George liked to play the fool but wasnāt one, far from it. If anything, his new state as a father and Ildooās family Patriarch had made him mature in ways that would leave Khan speechless.
Therefore, George didnāt underestimate the alien opponents even once. Despite setting his mind on killing the leader, his rational side never truly believed he could win. After all, he remained a fifth-level warrior.
George wanted to attract the Scarlet Eyesā attention and delay their attack, buying humankind and Baowayās forces enough time to send reinforcements, preventing as many casualties as possible.
The plan failed, but the alien leader had given George a silver lining. His slash couldnāt highlight him as a priority threat toward that invader, but defeating one of the two henchmen might.
Also, George felt real confidence in winning now. He would have doubted himself in any other field, but his tall, burly, caped opponent had wielded a sword, seemingly deciding to fight him on equal terms.
Of course, mastery over the sword alone couldnāt ensure victory, and Georgeās inferiority in every other field immediately became evident.
The tall, burly black alien didnāt waste time on pleasantries. It was unclear whether he understood Georgeās words, but they didnāt delay his actions for a single second.
George barely caught sight of a dark blur before his eyes managed to update him on the new scenery. The alien had been relatively distant from George, but he now stood in front of him, his fuming longsword descending toward his head.
The sprint had been instantaneous. It could have very well been a proper teleport for Georgeās perception, and the same went for the descending attack.
The slash shared the burly alienās speed. Theoretically, it should have already cleaved George in half, but something had stood in its way as soon as the attack began.
Georgeās conscious side couldnāt follow the alien, but his subconscious was another story. His right arm had risen instinctively, placing the silver sword horizontally to block the descending, darker-than-black blade.
Still, that seemingly lucky block didnāt save George from his predicament. An immense force that made his whole arm and back tremble stretched down from the spot where the two blades met, attempting to make him lose his foothold.
George had to muster all the strength his legs were capable of to remain on his feet. Yet, his knees bent anyway, and his figure slid backward, unable to disperse that momentum fully.
The assault didnāt stop there. The burly, bald alien chased after George, appearing in front of him while his body had yet to stop sliding. The black, fuming blade swung toward him again, planning to cut him diagonally from his side, only for a clinging noise to resound when he blocked it.
Georgeās arm had swung the sword before his conscious side could even realize what he was doing once again, vertically blocking the blade rising from his side. Yet, that forced him to face another instance of the alienās immense physical strength.
George had yet to finish sliding back when the second clash sent him sideways. His shoes almost left the streetās smooth floor, but his toes remained on its metal surface, continuing that seemingly hopeless attempt to stop him.
The alien kept attacking, appearing behind George to deliver another descending slash, only for the silver blade to move on its path once more.
George used the clash with the sword above his head to finally disperse his momentum. His feet returned to the street completely, and his body began to turn in an attempt to deliver a counterattack.
However, the burly alien reacted just as quickly, if not even more so. The black blade slid over the silver one, releasing sharp smoke on the other side of the hand wielding it, forcing George to put strength in his right arm to push himself away.
George didnāt dare to jump or take long strides. He only took half a step backward while finishing turning, his arm instinctively moving again to deflect the deadly thrust aiming for his chest.
The deflect was perfect. George hit the black longswordās tip, which would usually push it away to expose the opponent. Yet, the black alien was no simple swordsman, and his strength wasnāt something physics could overcome.
George tried to push the black blade away, only for it to remain stuck in its place, preventing him from exposing the burly alien and exploiting that opportunity.
Instead, the black blade soon rose, partially resuming its previous forward momentum while changing target, heading for Georgeās left eye.
Smoke also came out of the black longsword, echoing its sharpness while extending its range. Theoretically, George had made a mistake there. His failed deflection was a miscalculation that the alien immediately exploited.
George watched the stretching blade grow closer, but his arm was already moving. He couldnāt push the black longsword away, but its stillness became a reliable surface he could use for his needs.
A clinging noise resounded in the area as George forcefully slammed his silver blade on the black sword, pushing himself away again. The fuming tip tried to follow him but missed his left ear by a few centimeters.
Luckily for George, the black alien had to stretch his arm completely to follow after him, and his smoke was slower. The evolved warrior tried to continue the assault, but George dived under the black blade, keeping his silver sword above his head as a shield to reach the other, safer side.
The black alien reacted to the dive and swung his blade downward, pushing Georgeās down and preventing him from crossing to the other side.
Yet, to the alienās surprise, his black sword ended up sliding over Georgeās blade, propelled by the immense strength he had filled it with.
The black alien stopped his blade before it completely slid off the silver edge, but George was already on the move, seemingly knowing that opportunity would have appeared. He lunged forward, swiftly slashing his sword, cutting the evolved warriorās little finger, ring finger, and middle finger.