Chapter 5:

Admittance (3)

An Identity Beyond Self

Arrogance... That's what the Minotaur believed the foolish human who challenged him conveyed.

For what else was it but suicide to fight against the incarnation of violence with such a 'small' body.

With the difference in their stature being one between an adult and a child, there was was only one reason why the man-bull deemed its opponent worthy of getting into a stance. It had everything to do with the 'white sword' Simon held in his hands.

It didn't radiate supreme power nor an indomitable might, yet the sword was definitely one of the only things that could pierce the Outcast of Heaven and Earth's skin. Fortunately for the demon, the fallen hero before him was nowhere close to rational.

If he put even a little forethought, the blade in his hands wouldn't made its way to the demonic being.

But that was only IF he could think things through…

The hippie's body swayed and scrambled his own clarity of mind as he was doing so.

His 'Ginga Scream' technique also had the affects of putting the user in a state close to intoxication.

It scrambled his brain…!

The Demon watched the 'drunken' man with squinted eyes, without missing a single movement.

Normally, this would be the time his opponent would be disoriented by his 'sways', but the old geezer failed in confusing the enemy. He watched as a head with two terrifying horns charged forward, ramming its figure forcefully into his body.

The elder of a hundred masteries was thrown down after being collided into. He could feel his chest burning in a bewildering pain. The result was shocking when considering he was in a dream.

If he wasn't for him jumping back while making his whole body limp, a rib would have been broken...!

Ariadne watched in interest. Simon stopped rolling backwards using a strange turning motion. He lay on the floor for a moment, then charged at the big bull ferociously without giving thoughts to defence.

What was he thinking?

In the nymph's eyes, this sort of tactic seemed more feral than one came up by a human being…

Chaos...! This was the only word that was stuck at the back of her throat, Ariadne's eyes watched the unthinking drunkard execute many techniques that belonged to many different forms of martial arts.

Though the girl facepalmed upon realising he had forgotten her holy sword in that mess of attacks.

The only weakness of the Minotaur before him.

It seemed he was not able to capitalise on his strengths like a warrior should be able to do after gaining great experience... Perhaps he really WAS just attacking without forethought of his actions.

The scene was like a battle between a raging man-bull and a violent but tricky stream of rivers...!

The more she watched, the more the intoxicatingly beautiful 'hanged nymph' was certain of one thing about Simon's fighting style. Judging from the pure finesse of his moves and the grace with them...

...The drunkard wasn't a 'Dabbler'!

The elbows of Muay Thai, the fists of Boxing, the boots of Savate, the feet of Tae Kwon Do...

It was like he had an entire armoury of completely mastered techniques he had truly made his own!

His old figure came off as more experienced while fighting. The years he lived weren't all for naught.

Plus, the geezer's body was still in tiptop shape...

Even though the Minotaur couldn't be killed by mere physical attacks, it started to learn true pain once it fought against a being that was beyond its comprehension. Confusion and fear were settling…

No matter how monstrous the Kung Fu used by the man-bull, Simon destroyed it with the pure and incomprehensible 'power' that came from knowing which technique worked best for the moment.

Wasn't this the true form of 'Martial Arts'?

He was using the 'right technique' at the 'right timing' with the perfect efficiency of a fighting machine, but still as unpredictable as a drunken rascal. It made her come to a realisation:

"So he's a 'Collector'..." Ariadne mumbled while actually feeling pity for this 'half-brother' of hers...

The man bull moo'd horror, feeling like it was facing multiple masters of martial arts wrapped into one unpredictable package. Every time the drunkard changed styles, his rhythm would alter even more.

Of course, that didn't mean the creature would go down without a fight. It's arm came down on the old man, who was as small as a child before it's great stature, only to be countered immediately...!

Time seemed to slow down in the man-bull's eyes after seeing him ready himself in another stance.

Was there no hope for the bull demon's victory?

A fantastical fight that no one would ever see in real life took place here. Though Simon couldn't capitalise on his strength in terms of strategy, he was able to dismantle the strengths of his enemy.

Perhaps it wasn't necessary to use the sword. He was much more of an instinctual infighter anyway.

The geezer used the lack of walls around him to his advantage. He swung himself off the Minotaur's arm and continued to fight while twisting and turning in midair. His figure acrobatically kicked and used the large beast as leverage as he fought.

A normal person would've been thrown to the floor and had his shoulder bitten off already, but the old drunkard was so whimsical in his attack patterns that he... 'mixed' simplicity from his drunken sways with the complexity of orthodox battle techniques.

At time he was vicious and cruel, while at other times he was righteously doing as he saw fit.

He unconsciously showed the crazy temperament he'd been trying to hide from those he knew...

[Monster Style- Windmill Breaker!]

Finally unable to take any more of the sharp strikes the old drunkard had thrown, the man-bull rotated its arms. The terrifying bull demon tried harder to destroy the mere 'Human'. This monstrosity used a martial arts most fitting for its enormous stature!

Unlike humans, who focused their strength so they could defeat larger foes, the Minotaur used martial arts to properly utilise its size and body type for hunting. It's a predator didn't need humane 'Arts'.

This was its ultimate move, but the old drunkard in front of it didn't take the attack too seriously.

Time slowed down again as the bull charged...

'Heh, I remember doing that as a kid~' The geezer mused inwardly. The rotating arms blew up a storm while approaching him, causing an image of his younger self doing the same motions to appear in his mind... but with less intensity and seriousness.

This made him chuckle faintly in response. There was an easygoing look on his face while fighting.

Simon used his 'Art' to counter to the Minotaur.

His response to the 'windmill' was simple:

[April Style- Pinpoint Kick!]

A roundhouse kick started from behind him before entering the gap between the two 'windmills'. His foot was like a stream of water. It easily twisted through the gaps in the monster's defences like a Brazilian Kick... and lifted him up like a Front Kick.

The Bull Demon felt the impact heavily...

*Crack* The Minotaur's jaw broke. His horned head recoiled back and got brain damage in the process.

Ariadne could finally see some 'order' in the chaotic maelstrom of strikes. That last attack had wasted such little movements that she might never have thought the strike came from a drunk fighter.

[April Style- Spear Kick!]

His body was like water, which she now admired as the true form of 'Martial Arts'. If the first move was elusive like mist, then this move was as 'hard' as ice! He seemed to incorporate spearmanship into his foot technique, turning his body into a weapon.

While others were described as 'human weapons' for exaggerations, Simon showed that this was no mere metaphor. In the two worlds, none had his level of ingrained experience towards battle.

He struck the moment Ariadne's half-brother knelt to the floor from having his brain shook wildly.

It was thanks to the earlier attack working so well that the drunkard managed to… drive his big toe into the softer flesh on the monster's throat! The scene was so brutal that the nymph turned away.

Only to take another peek…

An impact resounded again!

The toe truly pierced a hole in the voice-box of the horned man-bull, which gave it no other choice but to hold its neck in silence. The evil creature started pitifully screaming in agony within its heart, yet unable to do anything at all to the geezer.

The drunk ironically stood firm…

What stance was the old hippie using? It became clearer the moment he retrieved his foot back...

[February Style- Assault Stance!]

Despite him only standing there, Ariadne could feel an icy whirlpool rotating around him. This was an illusion formed from comprehension. He gave up on everything but to attack, Attack, ATTACK!!!

His muscles contracted like an explosion, then he switched from kicking to hitting the face. That once highly held head had now finally got to his level after being hit. Once the monstrous creature knelt down, a pinpoint fist tore through the air sharply...

[July Style- Basic Punch!]

His motions were reminiscent of Karate...

A punch smashed into the face of the Minotaur.

However, he was still unable to make the beast back down. The man-bull ignored its own limits.

Its neck had already healed, fully recovering from the fist that cracked its skull without needing medical attention; All to tackle the strong opponent standing firmly rooted into the ground before it.

The man-bull wasn't going down without a fight...

[July Style- Straight Gatling!]

Many more fists tore into the air and crashed into its body, causing bone breaking sounds to be heard. The savage's eyes started glowing red, and Simon didn't notice that his legs were coiled by the long tail of the man-bull until it was too late...!

It a tail grown using magic... Something the old geezer hadn't seen in a number of years now.

[Monster Style- Demonic Tail!]

'His legs are sealed...!' Ariadne realised, fearing for his safety of the unthinking man with a death wish.

She knew that if her brother was given even the silver of an opportunity, the tables would turn.

However, her worries were in vain…

Simon responded almost immediately, using:

[July Style- Zero Pulse!]

Rooting himself into the ground, a shockwave that sounded like a sudden explosion bursted out.

The drunkard tore through the sound barrier! Fist soaring at Mach speeds towards the bull's nose!!

The red-eyed man-bull also seemed to copy his speed- No, it surpassed him using the fantastical amount of strength that could only be exerted using his giant body's muscles. It was so unreal…

Five fingers of nail-like talons also broke the sound barrier at the same time as the geezer's fist did.

The battle of speed was over in an instant...!

[Monster Style- Heaven and Earth...]

"Oh no you don't!" The old man sobered not to the sound of a girl's exclamation, but pain in his waist.


As Simon's body was being pulled away from the bull demon by thin strings secretly attached to his back, he noticed a gaping hole that was leaking blood everywhere while being dragged off.

The holiest energy he had ever come across instantly covered that injured area…

…thus healing it immediately.

'Woah...!' The sobered up old fighter was really amazed. This was the first time he'd experienced a power that seemed to have boundless healing properties. Even the most divine magic he had experienced as a Hero couldn't match this speed.

*Bang!* He slammed into the ground where he had been sitting before in front of the seductive hanged nymph. There was an embarrassed expression on his face after realising Ariadne had set up a barrier so that the Minotaur could give him room to breath.

The large bullish figure snorted before heading back to where it rested, going back to sleep...

It seemed to want to rest for a bit as well.

"You lost." Her words landed on the hippie's ears and became the most mocking fact of the day.

"I don't need you to tell me that... What the heck happened?!" He pointed at the statue-like figure.

The 'slumbering' Minotaur didn't react...

"That wine you drank improved your connection to this world." She shook her bottle in response. This was planned beforehand, but the girl didn't expect him to put up such a fight without using her sword.

"So I die in real life if I die here?"

"Pretty much."

"That's insane...!"

"That doesn't mean much when coming from someone trying to die anyway... That isn't even an issue right this moment; Why didn't you fight sober against my 'half-brother'?" She tilted her head.

His refusal to fight properly made her confused...

"I can't." He shook his head in response.

"Can't, or you yourself WON'T?"

"I seriously can't do it..."

"Fine, but at least use the sword I gave you."

"...And why should I?"

"There are no strings attached~"

"There are ALWAYS strings attached!" He said while pointing at the 'bungee strings' on his body.

Ironically, he was actually right...

"...Sorry if I was supposed to laugh." Her eyes rolled over to the white blade in her hands. The holy maiden's fragile-looking hand traced her fingers around the sword's two edges, all while speaking a piece about the history behind it:

"I once gifted this sword to a man without asking for anything in return, and in the end, that's what I got: Nothing. My heart became a tool in another's legend, making me into a foolish woman in love..."

"And yet you give it to a stranger 'with no strings attached'." Simon clicked his tongue in wonder of her intentions. There was no one who acted purely out of kindness. At least, he only met one person in the past who acted like this. No one could match it.

This made him think about her more rationally.

Most who were betrayed before would not trust others, yet here she was being kind to him without asking anything back despite her past. This made him doubt her intentions and what she was after.

How was she still able to have compassion...?

His paranoia became worse when she spoke:

"It's the thought that counts." The old geezer didn't know what she was getting at by saying this.

His cloudy eyes travelled to the sword and realised something he had ignored since he arrived back to Earth. With a coldness in his heart, his head turned to look at the statue of the opponent behind him.

There was only one thing he needed to do in order to gain 'freedom'. That one thing was simple...

'I just have to stab that guy. Easy...' He told himself repeatedly, but was unable to stop sweating the more he looked. Being sober made him realise how truly horrifying his opponent was from head to toe.

It was a fear born from a withered warrior's revolve.

The head of a bull, five fingered claws on arms as thick as his waist, a tail that made approaching for break its spine miserably hopeless, and legs that seemed even more muscle bound than his arms...!

Not even mentioning the blade-like talons that previously poked a hole in him. It was an armoury!

What was even scarier about the Minotaur was the lack of injuries on its body despite all his attacks.

There was a great chance that he'd eventually be overwhelmed as time went on, causing his arms to tremble... The geezer thought about the pain he'd felt in his chest prior. He wasn't scared of death, but he hated experiencing pain in all situations.

"Do you want my help?" A sweet voice touched him. He turned his head to look at the nymph.

"...I'm not shameless enough to ask for it."

"That's fine." Her meaning: Even if the old man doesn't ask, she'd still assist him regardless.

"Why are you helping me...?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"If you want me to be less suspicious, then 'yes'."

"If you want one..." Ariadne thought for a moment before speaking: " name means 'Utterly Pure'."

Her giggles resounded in the infinite dreamworld...