The only one left standing, Liamme, leaped toward Nathan with his steel crutches raised high above his head to deliver the killing blow.
Despite the certainty of his defeat, Liamme's face was pale with determination to meet his adversary.
Nathan brought an immense fist forward.
Military Punch!
His fist met the crutches with a boom that echoed throughout the port.
Liamme's weapon emitted a faint crackle before exploding into fragments.
The crutches were not the only ones to absorb the full impact of Nathan's strike. Instead, the force of Military Punch passed through the crutches and sent a powerful reverberation through to Liamme’s shoulders and organs.
Like Scholar, Liamme stumbled several paces.
With a final look of disbelief on his ashen face, he stared up at Nathan before falling to the ground. The impact from Nathan's fists had turned
Liamme's organs into smithereens.
Colin's battle ended at the same time as Nathan's.
Though Colin and the Elite Eight had managed to survive the battle unscathed, Derrick's mercenaries were all lying face down in pools of their own blood.
Derrick gazed at Nathan in alarm.
Though he was well aware of Nathan's combat prowess, he did not expect the five who had been with him since the old days of the war to fall as easily as they did in Nathan's hand.
Nathan glared back at him. “Are you
going to do it, or shall I?”
Derrick took off his jacket and tossed it aside. “I have been enlisted as early as I was legally allowed to. I was a part of the Marine Corps, and I was trained at Westside Military Academy. Throughout the years of war, I've had my fair share of worthy opponents. Whether or not I survive this fight, I will not be surrendering. I know that I'm no match for you, Mr. Cross, but I'll fight you until my last breath.”
Nathan lifted his head. “Come.”
Boom!
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