Demons Within: I level up endlessly

Chapter 44: The Mad Dog!

The night passed slowly in the land of no gods, but morning was coming. And with it, the training that would break him down and build him back up again.

Daniel woke up to a pain in his shin.

WHACK!

Gideon stood over him, holding his wooden staff. "Up," the old man rasped.

"The sun waits for no man, and death waits for everyone." Daniel groaned and rolled onto his feet. His body felt stiff.

Every bruise from the fight with the scavengers ached. He was thirsty, and his stomach was empty, but Gideon did not offer him food.

"First, we learn to stand," Gideon said. He poked Daniel in the chest with the staff. "You stand like a tree that has no roots. If I push you, you fall." Daniel tried to stand firm.

He widened his feet. He tensed his muscles. Gideon swung the staff. He didn’t hit hard, but he hit a specific spot behind Daniel’s knee.

Daniel’s stumbled, and he fell into the dust.

"You rely on stats," Gideon said, shaking his head. "You think having a high Strength number makes you strong. It does not. It just makes you heavy. Here, you have no numbers. You have only balance."

For the next few days, the training was grueling. It was repetitive, painful, and boring.

Gideon taught him Pure Martial Arts. He stripped away everything Daniel knew about fighting with the System. There were no flashy moves. There were no backflips.

"Read the body," Gideon instructed. "Watch the shoulders. Before a man punches, his shoulder moves. Before he kicks, his hip turns. If you see the move start, you are already gone."

Daniel practiced dodging. Gideon would swing the staff at him for hours. At first, Daniel got hit a lot. His arms were covered in purple bruises.

But slowly, he started to see it. He saw the shift in Gideon’s wrist before the staff moved. He learned to slide out of the way by an inch, not a mile.

Then second lesson was about ’Pressure Point Combat’. "You are weak here," Gideon said, pointing to Daniel’s thin arms. "You cannot punch through a wall. So, do not try. If you hit a man in the chest, he will laugh. If you hit him in the throat, he will choke."

Gideon used a small stone to draw a map of the human body in the red dust. He circled spots.

The head. The throat. The back of the knee. The groin. "These are the off buttons," Gideon explained.

"Nerves. Joints. Weak spots. It does not matter how big a man is. If you break his knee, he falls. If you crush his windpipe, he stops breathing."

Daniel memorized the map. He practiced on a wooden dummy they made from dried branches. He learned to make his hand into a spear, striking with the tips of his fingers. He learned to use his elbows and knees, which were harder than his fists.

The final lesson was the hardest. ’Mental Fortitude’. It wasn’t a skill he could equip. It was a state of mind.

"Pain is information," Gideon told him while Daniel sat in the scorching sun, holding a heavy rock over his head. "It tells you that you are alive. Do not fear it. Do not let it control you."

Daniel’s arms shook. sweat poured down his face. He wanted to drop the rock. He wanted to quit. "If you drop it, you die in the arena," Gideon said coldly. "Hold it."

Daniel held it. He learned to breathe through the pain. He learned to separate his mind from the screaming of his muscles.

On the fourth day, the training stopped. Heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel outside their hiding spot. Daniel stood up instantly, dropping into a defensive stance.

Gideon stayed seated. He was very calm.

Three men walked into view. They wore leather vests and carried spiked bats. They worked as messengers for the ruling body of the Purgatory Realm. They were a group of powerful prisoners who ruled through brute force and fear.

They were not appointed or selected, but they fought their way to the top. They ran the Blood Arena.

"Well, look what we found," the lead thug said. He was chewing on a toothpick. He looked at Daniel in disgust. "New meat hiding in a hole."

"What do you want?" Daniel asked. His voice was steady.

"Our bosses want entertainment," the thug replied. He pointed his bat at Daniel. "Luckily, tonight is fight night. And the roster is short. Everyone fights. No exceptions."

Daniel looked at Gideon. The old man nodded once.

"Remember everything I taught you," Gideon whispered. "You are not a statue. You are water. Flow."

The thugs surrounded Daniel. In Purgatory, there was nowhere to run. If you refused to fight, they’d just kill you immediately.

They led him to a circular pit dug into the ground. This was the Blood Arena. The sides of the pit were lined with cheering prisoners.

There were hundreds of them. Members of the Iron Pact stood on one side. The Serpent’s Coil lurked in the shadows on the other side. The Forsaken were scattered everywhere, screaming for blood.

"Get in," the thug said, shoving Daniel forward.

Daniel stumbled into the arena.

The ground was hard-packed sand. It was stained dark in many places with the dried blood of those who had perished in the arena.

He stood in the center, looking small and alone. He wore only his ragged pants and the boots he had stolen from the man he killed earlier.

He was shirtless, revealing his lean, bruised body.

A gate on the other side of the arena opened with a rusty sound.

The crowd roared.

"HAMMER! HAMMER! HAMMER!"

A giant of a man stepped out. He was at least seven feet tall. He was wider than a door. His skin was pale and shiny, and he had no hair.

In his hand, he dragged a big club made from a concrete block on a metal pole.

This was ’The Hammer.’

The giant looked at Daniel and laughed. "Is this it?" The Hammer yelled to the crowd. "A baby? You send me a baby to smash?"

The crowd laughed with him. They jeered at Daniel. They threw small stones and rotten food at him.

"This is similar to the story my mum do tell me about David vs. Goliath," Daniel thought. His heart began to race.

The fear was there, but he didn’t allow it get to him totally. He breathed in and out.

The person in charge sounded the horn. The fight began. The Hammer walked toward Daniel with stomping steps.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

He raised the huge concrete club. "I’m going to turn you into paste, little boy!"

Daniel stood his ground. He waited. He watched the giant’s shoulders. The Hammer swung. The club came down like a falling building.

Daniel didn’t block. He dared not try. That club would shatter every bone in his body. Instead, he moved.

Just as the club came down, Daniel slid his left foot back and twisted his hips.

WHOOSH!

The concrete block slammed into the sand right where Daniel had been standing a split second ago.

The impact sent dust into the air.

Daniel was already moving. He stepped in close, right next to the giant’s arm. He punched the Hammer in the ribs.

THUMP!

The Hammer didn’t even flinch. He just grunted and swung his arm back, trying to backhand Daniel.

Daniel ducked under the arm. He danced away, putting distance between them.

"Stand still!" The Hammer roared. He pulled his club out of the sand and swung it horizontally.

It was a wide sweep meant to cut Daniel in half. Daniel saw the hips turn.

He dropped to the ground, lying flat on his back. The club whistled over his nose, missing him by inches. He rolled backward and sprang to his feet.

The crowd booed. They wanted blood. They wanted to see the little guy get crushed. But Gideon, watching from the high rocks above the pit, nodded slowly.

The fight continued. The Hammer swung, and Daniel dodged. The Hammer smashed the ground, and Daniel dodged.

Daniel was fast, but he was getting tired. Moving in the heavy sand without his Agility stat was exhausting.

"I can’t dance forever," Daniel told himself. "I have to hurt him." The Hammer was getting frustrated. His face was red. He was breathing hard.

He raised the club and brought it down with a crushing overhead swing.

"Die, you little bitch!" the giant screamed. Daniel saw it. The Hammer put too much weight into the swing. He was off balance. Daniel stepped to the side, letting the club hit the ground.

BOOM!

The sand exploded. The Hammer leaned forward, trying to pull the heavy weapon back up.

This was the opening. Daniel didn’t punch the body. He lifted his right leg high. He drove his heel down like a piston. He stomped directly onto the side of The Hammer’s knee.

He put all his weight into the blow.

CRUNCH!

It wasn’t a clean pop. It was the nasty sound of bone shattering and ligaments tearing. The giant’s knee caved inward.

The leg bent the wrong way, folding into a rough ’K’ shape. The Hammer let out a high-pitched scream. His support was gone. The giant fell sideways, hitting the ground in pain.

He was now at Daniel’s height. The Hammer dropped his club, reaching out to grab Daniel with his hands.

Daniel stepped into the danger zone. He locked his eyes on the side of the giant’s head. The soft spot where the bone was thin.

He clenched his fist and tucked his thumb. He drove his elbow forward. He put his whole body weight into the strike.

He twisted his hips, channeling the force from the ground up through his shoulder.

CRACK!

The sound was painfully loud, like a dry branch breaking.

Daniel’s elbow connected squarely with The Hammer’s face. The giant’s eyes rolled back into his head instantly.

He staggered for a second,then he collapsed. He slammed face-first into the sand and stayed still.

Silence fell over the arena.

The jeers stopped. The booing stopped.

Daniel stood over the fallen giant. He was panting hard. His chest heaved with every breath.

He looked up at the crowd. He didn’t smile. He didn’t celebrate. He just stared at them with dead eyes.

Then, the roar began. It started with the Forsaken. A wild cheering. Then the Iron Pact joined in, banging their spears against their shields. Even the Serpent’s Coil roared in appreciation.

"Winner!" the arena master announced, sounding surprised. "The Mad Dog!"

Daniel looked up toward the rocks. He saw Gideon. The old man didn’t cheer. He just tipped his head in a small nod of approval.

Daniel turned and walked toward the exit gate. He had survived the first match. He had earned his credits. But more importantly, he had proven something to himself. He didn’t need the System to be dangerous.

He just needed to be smart, and he needed to be brutal. One match down. Nine to go!