Mobius's high opinion of Etalgar was plain to see.
If the two hadn't been so close in age, Sorenson might have thought Etalgar was his older brother's illegitimate son.
After all, Etalgar was an outsider.
In terms of Body Techniques alone, Etalgar wasn't far behind Loki.
But there was still a considerable gap between them.
A gap in overall strength.
A gap in their Color of Two Haki.
Sparks from their clashing Armament Haki flashed through the air.
Anyone weaker could barely follow their movements. The pace of their fight was beyond imagination.
Only at the instant they collided could anyone catch a glimpse of them.
Their battle was as beautiful as a work of art.
Not a single movement was wasted.
Every strike was crisp and clean.
And in a single instant, either fighter might throw out a dozen feints to deceive the other.
Fall for one, and you would lose the initiative and find yourself on the back foot.
Though they called it a fight, it was really a contest of Body Techniques.
Neither Etalgar nor Loki lingered in a clash for long.
Honing battle instincts until technique became second nature—that was the ultimate pursuit of combat skill.
It had all begun with Hades. This was how he had trained his children.
Through combat, Mobius had used the same method to train Etalgar.
It didn't suit everyone, especially those with larger builds.
A single mistake could decide a fight.
A single mistake could cost you the initiative.
That was how an advantage built, little by little.
Even monsters with extraordinary physiques and vast reserves of stamina
could be worn down and killed by an unbroken assault.
You might be stronger. You might hit harder.
But for every punch you landed on your opponent,
they would land two on