THE ADAMANT: BOOK ONE

(#WIP) Prologue: The Siblings Called Footloose Fury

{{{PRESENTLY}}}

In the desolate heart of Blightwater, a battle rages on.

Milyar Khong—the leader of a gang of mercenaries called The Tenetz—is gasping for breath and teetering on the precipice of collapse. Montel Deadwyler—one half of the duo known as Footloose Fury—has been carrying out a relentless assault that's turned his back into a canvas of agony, each punch landing with the force of a sledgehammer. Never before had such a symphony of violence been conducted.

Montel's fists blurred with calculated rage, landing with a rhythmic brutality that left his opponent reeling. The savage pummeling that Milyar was enduring eventually ceased, but before he could catch a breath, an eruption of pain made its home in his nose as Montel's knuckles became acquainted with his flesh and bone.

Milyar collapsed with a heavy thud. Montel promptly lifted him off the ground, grabbing him by his bomber jacket's collar as he did so, then pulled him close.

"Look, bruh, I know next to NOTHING about you, but you seem to be well-informed about my brother and me. So much so, you knew exactly where we'd been hiding out. Now, I'm gonna ask you again — WHO SENT YOU?!"

The thug only frowned in response. He refused to speak, partly because he had been paid not to, but also because of the disgusting iron tang of blood that shuffled across his tastebuds. He was beside himself with anger. Montel was right that he had been informed about him, but there was an obvious gap in that information. What he had been told pertained to who Montel used to be, and the man before him was a beast unlike any warrior Milyar had faced before.

This error in the counsel he received led to him being overwhelmed by Montel, and the beatdown was bolstered by the latter's years of training with The Forge Fraternity.

While it had been some time since Montel had seen combat, his training had not been forgotten. His usage of The Forge's techniques, fused with the Grizzly Style of Bloody Yearning taught to him by Dark Blue Mamoru, transformed Montel into a relentless force of nature.

"I can see you're the strong and silent type," Montel said. "Let's see how long that lasts."

He shoved Milyar back and resumed his fighting stance. Milyar struggled to remain on his feet, but didn't fall. His mind was in a daze, and his vision was disoriented, so he struggled to anticipate Montel's movements. The former soldier's wide and brawny, six-foot-four frame belied his Olympic-level agility.

Milyar eventually regained a semblance of equilibrium, so he was on the move, but desperately wished Montel would grow arrogant, as one moment of hubris is all it would take for him to shift the tide of battle. Yet, Montel was far from reckless and overeager. Although fast, he struck with precision and deadly intent. Every movement was foresighted, every blow an executioner's stroke. Milyar's feeble attempts to counter were met with a fierce determination that left no room for complacency.

Montel knew that pridefulness could lead to defeat, and in this harsh landscape, such a mistake would be fatal. While he and his brother, Clifford Hudson, had lived in Blightwater for sometime, they didn't know the area as thoroughly as Milyar and his gang. So, his mind raced as he sought a vulnerability in the tenacious thug's defenses. Despite the vicious assault he had doled out, an exploit in the man's resolve had yet to present itself.