Combat Slave Harem-Chapter 48: Moon Shattering Palm
The morning arrived with a biting chill that seemed to settle in the marrow of the bone.
The Novos estate was shrouded in an eerie silence. Servants moved like shadows, while the frogmen guards stood with a new alertness because the previous night’s bloodshed at Flower Garden.
In the center of the courtyard, Egon stood alone. His sleeves were rolled past his elbows, exposing forearms corded with lean muscle.
He took a long inhale, then exhaled.
"Again," he whispered to the empty air.
He lunged forward, his right palm cutting through the atmosphere in a sweeping arc.
But then, he stopped abruptly.
He clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. It was too stiff, too mechanical. Though a faint ripple of mana force shivered through the air and sent fallen leaves skittering across the stone, it lacked the soul of a true Skill application.
It still didn’t have enough force to create a devastating impact.
The First Form, Moon Shattering Palm, felt incomplete.
"You’ve been out here since the sun was a mere bruise on the horizon," a voice called out.
Vienna approached from the veranda, her arms folded against the cold.
Egon didn’t break his stance though.
"It still isn’t enough," he replied.
"You dismantled those assassins last night without this ’technique’ of yours," Vienna noted, stepping closer.
Egon finally lowered his hand and shook his head.
"That was nothing but brute force and desperation, Vienna. This is refinement. In a world of monsters, the difference between a master’s strike and a brawler’s swing is what decides who walks away."
Before Vienna could offer a rebuttal, a roar shattered the morning quiet, coming from the direction of the front gates.
"VIENNA CASTROS!"
The shout was deep and resonant, vibrating with a volatile mix of authority and wounded pride. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮
The courtyard fell still as a panicked frogman guard hurried toward them.
"Mistress, a man has forced his way to the gates. He refuses to move until he sees you."
Egon turned his head to the gate.
Vienna’s brow furrowed with annoying recognition that didn’t escape Egon’s notice.
"Who is he?" she asked.
The frogman guard hesitated, glancing nervously at Egon.
"He is Roderic. The same person who had been bothering you from the time you came into this city."
"Oh, him. Let him in." she replied coolly.
The heavy thud of boots announced his arrival long before he came into view.
Roderic was a man built like a siege engine.
He was tall and impossibly broad, with muscles that looked as though they had been forged by hard work.
His whole body had Scars, likely earned from beasts and blades alike.
A massive, slab-like sword was strapped to his back, looking more like a piece of falling masonry than a weapon.
His eyes, wild and hungry, locked onto Vienna immediately.
"You," he looked as if he was hurt..
Vienna stood her ground, her posture regal. "Roderic."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Roderic took in her appearance, then his gaze swept over the estate, finally landing on the fact of her recent marriage.
"You actually did it? You got married?"
He let out a short, bitter laugh.
"I spend months in the wilds on a hunt, dreaming of the answer you’d give me when I returned with the head of a Lion, and I come back to find this?"
He turned his head on Egon with disgust.
"That’s your husband? That thing?"
Egon met the hunter’s gaze with a terrifyingly blank stare.
"Tell me this is some elaborate joke, Vienna," Roderic snarled, stepping closer.
"It is no joke," Vienna replied firmly
Roderic’s fists bunched at his side, muttering: "I courted you for half a year. I fought through hell, brought you trophies of silver and bone, risked my life in the pits of the world just to prove my worth!"
"I never asked you to do any of those things," she interrupted.
Her words were cold and final.
Roderic froze as if he’d been struck. "What?"
"I never promised you a thing, Roderic. You chose those risks. You chose to chase a rejection."
The hunter eyes turned red with malice.
"So this is what you chose instead? A slave?"
"He was a slave. He is much more to me now," Vienna corrected coldly.
He staggered back a step.
"Tell me one thing, boy. What do you have that I don’t?" he growled.
Egon took a half-step forward, then answered. "You don’t have the luck, that’s all."
The simplicity of the answer seemed to enrage Roderic more than a direct insult would have.
He smiled, but it was a ugly thing.
"No Luck cannot be define my failure. Can you protect her with your luck."
He stepped toward Egon with aggressive energy.
"Lets have a duel to find that out.."
Vienna barked, "Roderic, that’s enough. Leave now."
But the hunter was beyond listening.
"Come on, Vienna. Surely he isn’t such a weakling. If he wins, I’ll vanish. I’ll take my trophies and go back to the mud. But if I win..."
He spared a glance at Vienna, his intent clear.
"I will prove I was the only right choice."
Egon spoke up, "You think strength and luck cannot coexist? Then, You’re mistaken badly."
Roderic laughed in a booming sound of pure arrogance. "Haha.."
"This world doesn’t care about your philosophy, boy. It respects power."
Vienna tried to intervene again, but Egon placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I accept."
Vienna turned to him with visible concern.
"Egon, you don’t have to do this. He’s a professional slayer of monsters."
"I know, Wife. But I need to do this. Not for his sake. For mine.I will use him as whetstone."
Vienna searched his face for a long moment before slowly stepping back. "Fine."
The courtyard was cleared in a matter of seconds.
The Frogmen Guards retreated to the shadows of the pillars, and Noella leaned against a stone column in the distance with a small amused smirk forming on her lips.
It was always iconic thing for a wife to watch her husband fight
Roderic reached back and drew his massive blade. The steel was dark and notched, smelling of old blood.
"Where is your weapon?" he asked after seeing Egon’s empty hands.
Egon simply raised his right palm. "I won’t need one.My hands are enough."
"Fine. It’s your funeral then ," Roderic grunted.
Then, the hunter moved.
For a man of his size, he was terrifyingly fast.
He covered the distance in a blur, his blade coming down in a vertical arc meant to split Egon in two.
Egon pivoted, the wind of the strike ruffling his hair as the sword slammed into the stone, shattering the tiles.
Roderic didn’t pause. He transitioned into a brutal horizontal sweep.
Egon ducked, feeling the sheer pressure of the air slice over his head.
"Not bad for a house dog," Roderic mocked. "Let’s see how you handle the pressure."
He lunged again, his strikes becoming a relentless storm of steel.
Egon was forced into a desperate dance of evasion. He blocked a glancing blow with his palm, and the resulting shockwave sent a jolt of pain up his arm, forcing him to slide back across the dirt.
"Is this the ’man’ she traded me for? Pathetic!"
Roderic laughed whiel pressing the advantage.
Egon didn’t reply. His mind was retreating into a state of hyper-focus. He was no longer seeing a man. He was seeing vectors of force, timing, and weight.
He stepped forward, entering the lion’s den.
Roderic swung again, but this time, Egon didn’t retreat. He shifted his stance, so his palm met Roderic’s forearm, redirecting the momentum of the massive limb.
"What are you doing?" Roderic growled, feeling his balance falter.
"Learning," Egon replied smiling.
He stepped in, delivering a palm strike to Roderic’s chest.
The hunter blocked it, but his eyes widened as he felt a strange, vibrating force hum through his guard. It didn’t hurt yet, but it unsettled him.
"Enough games!" Roderic roared as he released his full aura. Then a brownish, earthen energy coated around his blade.
"Beast Cleaver!"
He swung with every ounce of his monstrous strength.
Woosh!
It was a strike meant to end a life
Yet, Egon stood his ground, his feet rooting into the earth. He raised his palm slowly, his movements becoming fluid, almost ethereal.
"First Form," Egon mumbled.
Immediately, the air around his hand began to warp, the pressure building until the atmosphere itself seemed to groan.
"Moon Shattering Palm."
The contact was silent at first. Then, a roar like a collapsing mountain filled the courtyard.
BOOOM!
A massive shockwave erupted from the point of impact, shattering the ground in a perfect circle.
Roderic’s eyes went wide as his massive blade snapped like a dry twig.
The force didn’t just hit him; it consumed him. His boots left the ground.
He was launched backward, not sliding, but flying.
He passed over the estate walls like a stone from a catapult, shrinking into a speck against the morning sky until he vanished into the distance.
Silence fell again. Heavier than before.
No one moved. No one dared to breathe.
"Oh Lord! Is he... dead?" a guard whispered from the sidelines.
Egon looked at his palm, then closed it into a fist.
"Still imperfect," he muttered to himself.
He turned and walked back toward Vienna, who was staring at the hole in the sky where the hunter had been.
"Husband, You just sent a high-ranking hunter on a tour of the city skyline," she said with awe and disbelief.
Egon shrugged, "He’s sturdy. He’ll survive the landing. Probably."
Noella let out a sharp, delighted laugh from her pillar, "I think I like this version of you quite a bit, hubby."
Just at that time, Egon felt the heavy energy drain, making him feel a momentary nausea because of sudden mana use.
His two wives helped him stand on his foot.
There was still a long way to go before he mastered it.
He was making a great progress, sure. But he needed to faster.
After all, the apocalyptic invasions will be starting very soon.
