The Old Ones Fight Together

His opponent was very strong.

But that was only compared to the people originally from this world.

In front of Ian...

Walter still was not much to look at.

"What! How is that possible!"

Walter's eyes widened.

He pulled back his fist and threw another punch.

Ian turned sideways, and the fist swept past his chest.

Walter refused to back down and punched again. Ian crouched, and the fist swept over his head. Another punch came, and Ian leaned back, the fist grazing past the tip of his nose.

Four punches in a row. All missed.

Layton climbed up from the bottom of the pit. His body was covered in wounds, his face was smeared with blood, but light had rekindled in his eyes. He saw his father attacking, saw that monster dodging, saw his father's golden lightning raging across the wasteland. Gritting his teeth and enduring the pain, he dragged the arm Ian had smashed broken and walked toward the battlefield.

"Father!" he shouted. "I'll help you!"

Walter did not look at him. He only snorted coldly. "Don't get in the way."

Layton did not listen. He charged forward, gathering blue energy with his still-intact hand, and smashed it toward Ian's back.

Ian turned sideways. The punch grazed past his waist and struck Walter's fist. Father and son's fists collided in midair, golden lightning and blue energy exploding outward, stirring up rings of shockwaves visible to the naked eye.

Layton was forced back several steps, his arm numb. Walter did not budge, but his brow furrowed—not because of Layton's attack, but because of Ian's dodging.

This man was too slippery, slipperier than an eel, faster than the wind, harder to catch than a shadow.

"His defense must be poor. He's a speed-type opponent, so surround him!" Based on Ian's