CHAPTER THIRTEEN "The Power of Nature"
The battle raged on in a garden bristling with towering sword blades, their sharp edges catching the light as Tayog clashed with General Slasher.
Tayog fought valiantly in hand-to-hand combat, but he was outmatched. Each kick and punch from Slasher landed with devastating force, pushing him back despite his best efforts.
The general's superior strength and speed were evident in their exchanges. Though Slasher preferred his blades, he toyed with Tayog, confident his opponent was no threat.
As sugo, both fighters drew on their supernatural energy to sustain their strength, but Tayog's reserves were dwindling. His attacks grew weaker, and exhaustion crept in, weighing down his limbs.
Desperate for an opening, Tayog tried to land even a single blow on the elusive Slasher, but every kick was effortlessly blocked, as if his strikes were insignificant.
Slasher caught Tayog's final kick, seizing his leg and hurling him into a parked car. The vehicle's front crumpled under the impact. Tayog knew his energy was nearly gone, but he kept attacking, driven by sheer determination to stay in the fight.
Tayog's POV
This can't be happening. No matter how hard I strike, it's useless against him. Is he really that powerful, or am I just too weak?
I launched another attack, but Slasher blocked my punch with a casual swipe of his hand. My strength was fading, my energy nearly depleted. I could tell he sensed it too—his boredom was palpable, his interest in this fight fading.
"You're no fun to play with," Slasher sneered. "Let's end this."
He grabbed my arms and tossed me like a toy. I tumbled across the street, crashing into a tower of swords that stopped my momentum.
Dizziness overwhelmed me, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Controlling that giant beast earlier had drained me completely. Only sheer willpower kept me standing against this monster.
But no matter how exhausted I was or how hopeless the fight seemed, I forced myself to rise, determined to keep going. I had no choice but to fight to the death for our cause.
End of POV
Slasher summoned a sword to his hand and attacked again. Battered and dizzy, Tayog struggled to keep up, his heavy breathing betraying his weakening body.
He couldn't break through Slasher's formidable defense. With no other option, he focused on dodging and blocking the general's relentless sword swings with the wooden shields on his arms.
Though made of sturdy wood, the shields were taking damage with every parry.
"Hahaha! What's wrong, Indio?" Slasher taunted. "All you can do is block?"
Slasher's feet glowed as he stomped the ground, summoning clusters of swords that surged toward Tayog.
Knowing he couldn't match their power, Tayog leaped to dodge the onslaught. But Slasher anticipated his move, waiting for the evade.
As expected, Tayog jumped, and Slasher struck without hesitation. Tayog saw the attack coming but was too slow to dodge again.
"Damn it, he's going to hit me," he thought.
With no time left, Tayog wrapped himself in his wooden shield, vines extending and intertwining to form a thicker barrier. But before it could fully solidify, Slasher's sword pierced through. The wood's durability spared Tayog a direct hit, stopping the blade just short of his chest.
"You're quick, kid," Slasher mocked. "But you can't stop me."
Suddenly, hundreds of smaller blades erupted from the sword's tip in a devastating Lejanti Strike. The impact sent Tayog crashing into a parked truck, pinning him between the blades and the vehicle's metal frame.
A sugo's skin was tough, reinforced by protective energy, but Tayog's waning reserves left him vulnerable. He felt the sharp pain of the blades cutting into his chest, a sign his energy was failing.
Trapped against the truck, he struggled to free himself from the embedded swords.
"My ability lets me summon blades from anything I touch," Slasher said, gripping the sword linked to the Lejanti Strike. "I could end you right now."
"It's not over," Tayog gasped, barely able to breathe.
Slasher laughed, mocking his defiance. "Let me tell you why you'll never win. You lack the skill to fight properly."
The sword cluster glowed, extending further and piercing through Tayog, punching a hole through the truck. The force sent him tumbling across the street, blood spilling from his wounds.
Despite his battered body, Tayog forced his trembling arms to move, struggling to rise. His movements were sluggish, his mind clouded, driven only by the instinct to stand.
Blood streamed from his head, dripping down his cheek. "Your kind, with such limited energy, breaks down in minutes," Slasher sneered. "You're a pathetic opponent."
Tayog knew his lack of training left him with limited energy. Furious at his own weakness, he slammed his fist into the ground, frustrated that he couldn't match Slasher.
"What now, Indio?" Slasher taunted.
"I don't want to do this," Tayog whispered, "but I have no choice."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steel himself for his final move.
Slasher, oblivious to Tayog's plan, dismissed his silence as defeat. To him, this was just a game, and Tayog had no chance of winning.
"You can't beat me by standing there," Slasher scoffed.
Suddenly, Tayog grinned and let out a loud laugh. Slasher couldn't understand why, but the mocking smile felt like an insult, as if Tayog had outsmarted him.
"He's lost his mind," Slasher thought, assuming Tayog's laughter came from despair over the failed uprising and his own inadequacy.
"Pathetic creature," Slasher said. "Let's finish this."
He raised both hands, his armor glowing as energy surged through his arms. In each hand, he formed a massive Lejanti Shuriken, fifteen feet tall, made of clustered swords. These were the same weapons that had sliced through the giant beast's arms earlier, capable of cutting anything in their path.
"Say goodbye, Indio!" Slasher roared.
He hurled one shuriken with full force, its spinning blades slicing through everything as it hurtled toward Tayog.
Tayog's eyes snapped open, and he punched the ground with fury. A giant wooden arm—the severed limb of the Siklaon beast, now a mere tree—sprang to life, intercepting the shuriken from the side.
Slasher was stunned. How could Tayog control it with his energy nearly gone? "You've still got some power left," he said, "but it won't last."
Tayog clutched his bleeding chest, gasping for air. His energy was depleted, his protective aura gone. His wounds bled freely, and he collapsed, overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion.
"Look at you," Slasher mocked. "A failure, a defeated warrior, dying in the dirt. This is what happens to Indio trash who challenge Spain!"
Tayog's anger flared at Slasher's words, memories of his parents in Siklaon flooding back. Despite his exhaustion, he forced himself to sit up, trembling with effort.
Slasher laughed, ridiculing Tayog's pitiful state and his refusal to surrender, comparing him to a rat trying to bite a lion.
Tayog managed to sit, his arms and knees shaking. "I have no choice but to play my last card," he whispered weakly.
Slasher burst into laughter, dismissing Tayog's words as an empty threat. He sensed no aura from Tayog, whose trembling body could barely stand.
"I don't want to do this," Tayog said, "but I can't accept defeat."
Suddenly, wooden daggers flew from a distance, caught by Tayog as he sat. These were weapons he had lent to his Siklaon comrades before the uprising.
Slasher was clueless about Tayog's plan. To his shock, the daggers disintegrated into wooden dust, carried by the wind and absorbed into Tayog's body. More daggers followed, transforming into energy that merged with him. Slasher felt Tayog's presence surge.
"What are you doing?" Slasher demanded.
"Let me explain," Tayog said. "These are part of my power, lent to my comrades to connect them with nature. They became power cores, drawing energy from the people inside and channeling it into the tree beasts. In other words—"
"Tch," Slasher interrupted. "You're absorbing the stored energy from those weapons to boost your own."
This was part of Tayog's plan, but he could only draw energy from nature when his own reserves were depleted. "Thanks to you," Tayog said, "I burned through my energy controlling that beast's arm, allowing me to activate this ability."
Energy surged through him, restoring his strength. The bleeding from his wounds slowed as his protective aura returned temporarily.
Tayog stood, stepping forward with fierce determination in his eyes, ready to face Slasher again. "Impressive for an Indio," Slasher smirked.
"Don't call me or my comrades that," Tayog snapped. "We're not Indio slaves of the Spanish. We are Filipinos."
He raised his hand, and the giant beast's arm stirred, enveloped in green energy. The wood reshaped, merging with his body like clay, forming a new form.
"We are Filipinos!" Tayog shouted.
Slasher's brow furrowed, his smirk twisting into anger as Tayog transformed into a towering, tree-like figure. The overwhelming energy from the wooden daggers' cores radiated around him, repelling nearby objects with a whirlwind-like aura.
Tayog's new form was a ten-foot-tall, monstrous figure armored in wood—his final, most durable state. But it required immense energy, sustainable for only a minute. Tayog planned to use the scattered daggers as power sources to maintain this form and defeat Slasher.
He knew the energy he drew was the life force of his fallen comrades, sacrificed for the uprising. "My comrades," he vowed, "I swear I'll do everything to kill this demon general who murdered you. I'll avenge you and all of Siklaon!"
The monstrous Tayog charged at Slasher. The general, sensing the extraordinary energy, knew he had to act quickly. His serious expression betrayed unease at Tayog's newfound power.
Slasher's armor glowed as energy surged to his left hand. He hurled the second giant shuriken, its spinning blades slicing through everything toward Tayog.
Tayog blocked it with his right arm, but the shuriken's force cut through the wooden limb. Undeterred, he pressed forward, ignoring the injury.
Slasher, caught off guard, summoned another Lejanti Strike. Clusters of swords rose to attack, but Tayog halted his charge to dodge.
Seizing the moment, Tayog extended his left arm like a vine, striking from a distance. The fist slipped past the sword towers, catching Slasher by surprise and landing a powerful blow that sent him crashing into the municipal building.
The sudden attack had outmaneuvered the general. Tayog's arm retracted like a vine returning to its tree. "What's wrong, General?" he taunted. "Get up and fight."
More wooden daggers struck Tayog, dissolving into energy that healed his severed arm, which regrew like a sprouting plant. The daggers' life energy became his power source, mending his injuries.
"I told you," Tayog said, reveling in his surging energy, "this fight isn't over."
Slasher emerged from the building, his eyes blazing with fury. He couldn't accept being struck by an opponent in his full-power form. A fiery yellow aura surrounded him, crackling like flames.
"I'm done holding back," Slasher growled. "It's time to end this game with a rat like you."
"I won't let you win," Tayog shot back. "Today, I'll take your life, Slasher!"
Their overwhelming presences clashed like colliding storms, both preparing for a final, deadly strike.
In the midst of this intense scene, a piercing cry shattered the air—a woman's voice, desperate for help, echoing from above.
Suddenly, a figure plummeted from the sky, crashing into the ground between Tayog and Slasher.
The woman lay face-down, motionless, like a corpse.
Both fighters froze, unable to react to the sudden intrusion, waiting for what would happen next.
The fallen figure was Erik, inexplicably in the form of the Ifugao diwata. She sat up abruptly, shocked to find herself alive despite the fall.
Unaware she was in the guise of a beautiful woman, Erik raised her hands in joy. "I'm alive! I can't believe I'm alive!" she shouted, elated.
In her moment of celebration, Erik noticed the chaotic battlefield around her. To one side stood Tayog, his monstrous form wreathed in green energy. To the other, Slasher glared with murderous intent.
Neither knew how to react to the stranger who had appeared before them, unsure if she was friend or foe.
Erik hadn't expected to land in the middle of a battlefield. Fear gripped her as she realized the danger of her situation.
"I'm so dead," she muttered, forcing a nervous smile. "Hey… how's it going?"
End of Chapter