Rondok himself did not realize how dazzling he looked at that moment. Even Colonel Zilabeka sensed the change in his bearing.
Beside him, Erik, the big white cat, yawned as calmly as ever, as though he had known Rondok's potential all along. He meowed as if to say, See? I knew this kid was a diamond in the rough. That's why I stuck with him so early.
Many people with the potential to become the leading figure of their age had appeared throughout history. But very few ever wrote legends of their own and became the darlings of their era.
Rondok, for instance, had undergone a change of heart. He should have soared from there, enjoying a run of good fortune, stumbling upon one opportunity after another, and growing stronger by leaps and bounds as he went from victory to victory. Reality threw cold water on that prospect. The very next day, after receiving orders to carry out a mission in Stinnerls City, Rondok ran into a deadly crisis.
The mission was supposed to be easy. No one had expected Number Four to attack them on the way!
In their first exchange, Number Four's Wind Blade sliced Rondok in two at the hips. Luckily, Erik stepped forward at the critical moment and held off Number Four, giving Rondok a chance to stop the bleeding and send a distress signal...
Inside an old warehouse in the industrial district of Stinnerls City.
Erik was bound with threads thinner than hair and remarkably tough. They bit deep into his fur, drawing blood in places.
Not long before, Erik had fought Number Four to the death rather than retreat and leave the badly wounded Rondok behind. The two were not far apart in strength, but Erik's strengths were speed and agility. With Rondok lying