Salute to the General novel Chapter 1953

Thomas dropped all pretext of courtesy. He leaped towards Morgoth and swung his fist.

The punch was so deadly that it left a whistling sound in its wake. It is clear that he was no ordinary fighter.

Thomas's men cheered him on.

“Awesome!”

“Show them how it's done, Captain!”

“Teach him a lesson!”

Morgoth did not even flinch. He watched in amusement as Thomas's fist approached him, but made no attempt to avoid it.

Thud!

His fist collided heavily into Morgoth's face.

Thomas's men whooped. Even the guests joined in.

Aron looked worried. He frowned and turned to Sherman to see how he was taking this.

Sherman and Pathol did not appear bothered. They watched on with interest.

Expecting to shatter his nose and getting his hands dirty with blood, Thomas was unpleasantly surprised.

His fist, upon striking Morgoth in the face, felt as though he had punched into a block of steel. He recoiled in horror, feeling his hand gingerly for broken bones.

Looking up at Morgoth, he did not seem too fazed. There was only a reddish bruise where

Thomas's fist had struck.

“I thought you are a lieutenant of the God of War. Is that all you've got?” Morgoth taunted. “I must say, I'm very disappointed.”

“Are all men in the North Army as pathetic as

“You scum, how dare you speak ill of our Army?” Thomas roared. “I will beat you into a pulp.”

He swung another punch. This one was swifter, more powerful.

It was a blow that could have struck a buffalo dead.

At the last second, Morgoth moved out of the way and grabbed Thomas by the wrist. “You're weak,” he scorned.

Thomas was caught off guard by the speed of his opponent.

Before he had time to react, Morgoth snapped his wrist violently.