It turned out Malak didn’t train. Not anymore at least. But what he told Thaedric, when he asked him about how he used to train is to grin and. "I fight people more strongly than me."

The implication wasn’t lost on Thaedric. Since Malak became tier four, there has been no one strong to train with him in the whole slave prison.

The next thing Thaedric asked him was for a fight.

It seemed like the most logical thing when he first asked because he figured Malak was the strongest here anyway. But now, actually facing him, Thaedric was having a rethink.

They stood face to face in the training room. The other slave fighters had been surprised by their appearance in the training room, even more so as the two faced each other.

Thaedric ignored them. He ignored the smell of stale sweat that reminded him of just worn sneakers. He was entirely focused on the man in front of him, the man radiating a sure powerful aura.

"Are you sure you can manage your power output?" Thaedric asked again.

This is training. He can’t use Sandskar. He wanted to test himself physically but that doesn’t mean that he wanted to die. And a full tier-four punch will kill him, turn him into a splatter.

Malak jumped on his toes. "Don’t worry. I promise not to punch your head off."

That doesn’t seem reassuring. But Malak was ironically the only person in the slave prison right now not to kill him. And maybe Urlk too.

He wished for his weapon. Any weapon but this was purely hand-to-hand. He formed his fist and raised it to his face just below his eyes, it was a boxing style, and he hoped it confused Malak.

The rule of the fight is simple. Thaedric must land a hit on Malak which was easier said than done.

"Eh, what’s this," Malak frowned. "I’ve not seen this fighting technique before."

"I’m sure you haven’t." Then Thaedric drove his as fast as he could, going for a quick straight jab with his left hand.

As expected, Malak drove right and into Thaedric’s next punch, this one where he put his whole body. It should have connected but Malak was faster and he easily moved away, striking Thaedric on the back of his head with his open palm.

’He’s too fast for me’ Thaedric thought. ’There’s no way I can land any hit with my attack’. "You said you reduced your power." Thaedric rubbed the back of his head, hammer can’t bash harder than that.

"Of course, I reduced my strength! You wouldn’t be feeling your head otherwise if I hadn’t. And what is that strange technique I saw you perform? I want to see more!" Malak is getting fired up.

Thaedric raised his fist to his face again. "Why don’t you come for it?"

Malak did. He came with punches, each hitting with the weight that sent vibrating pains into his bones and made Thaedric wince and grunt.

"Why are you not fighting back? Use your hands! I want to see you punch again!"

Thaedric didn’t punch back. He held his hands up together before his face where it’s easier to block a hit to his face and stomach. ’I’m getting weaker!’ Each punch was like a hammer to the head, jarring his bones and sending pains shooting through his body.

But still, he held on. Trying his best not to fall with each punch while he waited for the perfect moment to strike back. If he should rush in for attacks then none of it will reach Malak since he was just too fast.

That was why he went on a defensive move. This way he would lure his opponent into his space. But it’s a two-way thing as Thaedric found out now– his opponent might simply finish him off before he got his right moment.

But Malak was the type of opponent to take his time when fighting his opponents. The type to slowly inflict pain and watch them slowly weaken. That was exactly what Thaedric was waiting for.

"Use your fist!" Malak shouted, ending his words with a punch that sent Thaedric reeling back, his hands uncovering from his face and Malak grinned as he saw the opportunity. "I’ll make your eyes roll in your socket!"

Malak drove in, eyes on Thaedric’s exposed face. He didn’t see him make a fist. Thaedric stepped up and used his left hand to hook Malak’s right then with all the remaining strength in his body he punched Malak.

His head snapped back as the punch connected with a solid crunch that sent him reeling back and clutching his nose. "Ow! Ow! That’s a mean punch!"

Thaedric was breathing hard, his hands burned even as he felt his mana speeding up his healing. "That’s punch is tier three!" He said.

Malak removed his hand from his nose which was perfectly fine. He shook his head. "A lot of people don’t properly know the gap between the tiers." Then he punched the air in front of Thaedric. The punch sounded like a gunshot and carried a shockwave wind that slammed and ruffled Thaedric’s hair.

Thaedric jumped back, putting his hands up in a defensive move, his blood shimmered in response and his heart tightened as if about to unleash his bloodline technique. His whole body was in alert. "What the..."

"That’s a full tier three punch. Can you see the difference?"

Thaedric didn’t only see it. He felt it and his body had reacted on instincts. Even now, his heart beat faster than normal. Thaedric liked the feeling.

He straightened. "How long before the next fight, Malak?"

Malak blinked, surprised by the change of topic but he answered anyway. "One week."

Thaedric found himself smiling. "That’s it then. I want to fight with you every day till the day of my next fight. How about it?"

Malak shrugged. "I see nothing bad in it."

"You must use all the strength of tier three. No holding back. But just don’t punch me in the face. Can you do that?"

Malak grinned. Urlk shifted uncomfortably from his place. "I don’t think that’s a good idea."

Malak thought it was a good idea and he was in front of Thaedric in a fash. He sent a punch to his gut that sent Thaedric upward and away.

The pain started then.