Chapter 17: A Clash with a Master

Chapter 17: A Clash with a Master

That raw, instinctive sense of danger triggered my body automatically. I drove my heels into the pavement and threw myself into a backward flip, my body rotating gracefully through the air.

As I inverted in midair, I caught sight of the attacker behind me.

He had sharp eyebrows, a lean, athletic build, and dark, shoulder-length hair tied loosely behind his head. His eyes burned with intense, focused discipline.

So that was the play.

Ethan had deliberately kept me talking to draw my attention, letting this guy stage a blind-side attack!

If Sierra hadn't yelled, that strike might have caught me unprepared.

My backflip caused his initial palm strike to miss, but without missing a beat, he stepped forward and threw a lightning-fast straight punch directly toward my exposed midsection.

I was still suspended in midair, my balance inherently unstable. It was the textbook moment to strike an opponent down.

The punch carried incredible power. If it landed clean, it would easily crack a rib.

If I were relying on brute force or basic street brawling, I would have been finished right there. But what I possessed was the Aurelian Defensive Kata!

And what was the core philosophy of the Aurelian Kata?

Redirecting the opponent's momentum back against them.

While still inverted in midair, I snapped my right leg out, tapping the side of his incoming fist at the exact micro-second of impact.

Thwack!

A sharp sting radiated up my foot—the guy's knuckles felt like solid iron. But I didn't care about the pain. I borrowed the kinetic force of his own punch to push off, regaining control of my center of gravity in midair and gliding back three full meters before landing lightly on my feet.

"Phew..."

I took a deep breath, settling into a low stance.

Although that exchange had taken less than two seconds, cold sweat was already dampening my shirt.

Seeing his surprise attack fail, the handsome, long-haired fighter didn't immediately pursue me. Instead, he stood with his hands folded behind his back, looking composed and refined as his sharp eyes appraised me.

"You're the one who embarrassed my junior classmate, Ethan?" he said, his voice smooth and confident. "I admit, your reflexes aren't bad."

I kept my foot firmly planted to hide the lingering throb, keeping my expression completely unbothered. "Who are you supposed to be?"

A evening breeze swept across the open pavement, lifting his dark hair.

The guy held himself with supreme confidence as he declared, "I am Liam Johnson. Second-degree black belt from the Vanguard Martial Arts Academy."

Great. Another high-ranking striker from the Vanguard style—and a second-degree black belt at that.

My chest tightened slightly. Ethan alone had been a nuisance; Liam was clearly on an entirely different level of skill and conditioning.

"Haha! You were acting so arrogant a second ago!" Ethan gloated from behind his senior classmate. "Go ahead and try pulling your tricks against big bro Liam!"

Liam chuckled softly, his tone dismissive. "If I'm not mistaken, what you're using is just an old traditional defensive kata. From what I've seen, it's nothing more than passive performance art."

"Is that right?" I fired back coldly. "I didn't realize sneak-attacking people from behind was part of the prestigious Vanguard curriculum."

Ethan bristled with anger. "Liam, don't waste time talking to him! Show him what real Vanguard striking looks like! Let's see if he still calls our style useless after this!"

Liam's eyes narrowed slightly. "With pleasure."

Without another word, Liam exploded forward. His lead leg cut through the air with terrifying speed, generating a sharp, whipping sound.

I immediately lowered my stance and raised both arms to form a fluid defensive guard.

Ethan sneered mockingly from the sidelines. "Moron! You actually think you can block big bro Liam's kick with your bare arms?"

"Take this—Vanguard Tempest Sweep!" Liam roared as his leg whipped horizontally toward my head.

The strike carried immense momentum. But the Aurelian Defensive Kata wasn't about meeting force with force—it was about using four ounces of leverage to move a thousand pounds.

The moment his shin made contact with my forearm, I didn't try to stop it. Instead, I cupped his heel and knee with both hands, stepping fluidly in the direction of his motion and letting his own kinetic energy pull my body along with it.

"Zach!" Sierra gasped, thinking I was about to be swept off my feet.

Ethan began to laugh triumphantly.

However, Liam's face turned pale in an instant.

He realized far too late what was happening. He wasn't kicking me down—I was riding his momentum to unbalance him entirely!

After shifting half a meter to the side, I planted my heels, sank my center of gravity into the ground like a rooted tree, and executed a sharp rotational throw in the opposite direction.

"Whoa!"

Liam lost his foothold completely, his body launched backward through the air by his own deflected momentum.

Yet, as a second-degree black belt, his conditioning was undeniable. In midair, he executed a rapid body twist, throwing his arms out to stabilize himself and barely managing to land on his feet, skidding across the asphalt.

"Incredible kinetic flow!" Liam shouted, his eyes flashing with fierce excitement as he reset his stance to lunge forward once more.

WAAAAA—WAAAAA—WAAAAA!

Before he could take another step, the sharp, piercing wail of approaching police sirens cut through the evening air, echoing down the block.