[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PweYtBk.png[/img][/center]

[color=gray] The outcome was to be expected, the flare of battle thundered under the pressure of true collision. Their bodies engaged in the most consequential art of battle there could be displayed. One man, poised with hands on shoulder width, back hunched lunching a series of attacks towards a boy who seemed to grin throughout, the sweat drowning his visage as his body, almost rhythmically shifted itself on a guise of mastery. Quick moves from left to right, turns and spins to evade the coming hits. Their essence in itself held murderous intent, the expression of their ferocity displayed itself upon the canvas which the two stood. Grasping the flow of the wind itself, the weight and propulsion of the body's natural inertia to develop their coursing flow of movements. Their speed exceeded any normal man. A crowd of men screaming their hearts out, witnessing such a flow unravel before their very eyes. 

There the youth, known as the Macedonian Bull faced of against a giant twice his size, three times his width. The man towered roughly around 210 cm tall, and 200 pounds of muscle adorned his physical. However, with every hit he seemed to usher all he met was the waves of the air, a lavished dance of evasion greeted the giants might, and such brought him to frustration. Finally, the youth of dyed blond hair tired of the games, and shifted his course, with a single twist of his hip, he allowed an opening, staring straight to the mammoth's eyes. Their clear intent for victory even if it resulted on his own well being. 

[color=c07c25]"What fire!"[/color]

Noticing such the man retreated his fist, winding up his most powerful left hook, you could visually notice the arm flex its bloated bicep, the forearm rearing to collide with all intentions to snap the youth's head clean off his head. Leonard Magnus Aldrige, the Macedonian Bull, the youth of true outstanding might, twisting his heel, shifting his body into a pivot and twist to shift momentum to the right, his hands caught the hand upon and open palm, a force blew around the impact zone, conducting the energy outwards in a massive force, but leaving Leo entirely unharmed. His weight now under Leo's control, the inertia of such leaving his footing unstable, with just a sway to the left their bodies now shifted, he was falling into an uppercut that connected, full contact. Leo could sense it, every secular bone and tendon stretch and tear under the weight, falling backward now. This mammoth of a man now stumbled to regain composure. 

The wind was now under his wings, the balls of Leo's feet kicked with sustained pressure on exerting through the calf and quads. Teeth clenched, the bullet of sweat adorning his body, shiftless and bloodied tensing every secular muscle, pulling his arm from the shoulder and delivering a barrage of hits onto chest, torso and face. 

Jab, jab, jab, hook, twist, knee- to axe kick, tornado kick, to twisting heel kick, extend, pull back, superman punch, stomach upper cut, rapid jabs, pull back, pivot right hook, left back hand, Leaping knee, shifting left knee, utilizing the enemies on chest he propelled his body into a forward somersault flip... Moonsault hammer hell drop!

Each individual hit was summoned with extreme force, and with each successful collision a sound of blow radiated through the area, the cheers grew louder and louder. Hands began to douse itself in the blood of his opponent. But that wasn't enough to fall that monstrosity. It regained it composure through grit and strength, and cam down with a grab, lifting young Leo over his head and power bombing him once, twice, three times! The earth beneath their heels began to crumble and break, making the hole deeper.

"Brat! I got you now!"

Standing above him, now it was his turn to deliver all his strength, Hammer down lumber punch. Both hand grasped to each other and smashing into the earth where Leo's body sustained the entirety of its power, a grunt released itself, a cough before another was landed. Now he just punched consecutively, trying to kill or knock the boy out. He wanted to win, he needed to win. He just didn't. Like. This. BASTARD!

Hand grappled his hand, a trembling between two strength, blood painting his mien, this was the fight. This was the fight. [color=c07c25]"So, you think you can make me feel defeat?"[/color] The strength was being pushed back, by someone who seemingly looked as if a trained had rammed unto his body. Blood and marks all over, as he pushed him further and further beyond from his standpoint and pushed, the man recovered and charged. Leo swung his first punch, landing on the center of his face, tanked entirely by the mammoth of a man before, him, but then... 

Warden

The strike that was to come was intercepted, moved and shifted to the side. Leo began to summon a power beyond his self. No, more so that the power was birthed from him from the very start. He wanted not to hold back any long. The most genuine smirk between pain, blood and the spirit of the fight.  

[color=c07c25]"Grit your teeth, you swine! Iron FACEBREAKER"[/color]

The crack of bones wasn't the worst, perhaps the sound could make a couple of twiddling soul to hurl or gag merely at the imagination of such. Perhaps it was the blow, increasing every movement to their maximum capacity, to witness might being display with such raw, unfiltered gumption that caused the crow to intake the surroundings. Perhaps it was the lunch that the man suffered between two support beams by a boy who weight probably weight what he could lift with a single hand, throwing him across a room no bigger than just a couple of meters wide. But the worst image, was the boy standing proudly. Broad shoulders, hefty stance, proud determination. Raiding set fist that just down and won him the victor above his head, screaming to announce his victory in celebration.

The crowed joined him, chanting his epithet. The Macedonian Bull. The one who will Rend the Iron Wall! [/color]