Ricktor's body was extremely hurt, more than he would let on. He kept repeating certain words in his head: that he was still okay, that he would be fine, that he could still fight.
He was pushing his body, trying not to focus on the pain left over from his fight with Crine. His Qi was weak, but he imagined it fierce and strong like a dragon. Looking ahead, he could see Dame and the others fighting against Murkel, fighting against his father.
In the end, though, when he took another step forward, he felt his knee give in, and he staggered to the ground slightly. He managed to put all of his weight on the knee to avoid falling completely flat on the floor.
"Ricktor, I already told you, you're too beat up," Mada said as he went down, nearly falling over himself. He had been hit by Crine, and now the fight for him was over. All of the energy he had built up was escaping his body.
The strong will and flame inside him were no longer there, but he realized in all of this, there was one person who had stood by his side. Someone that he might even be able to call a friend.
"If you head in there right now, you might just be killed by a stray attack. Do you really want that to be the end of your legacy?" Mada asked.
Ricktor smiled as he looked up. He could feel the pressure of Qi coming from his father; it was weighing down on him even now.
'I'm trying even harder than when I fought against that damn no-name. I wonder when it all started, it's been years now… Since I saw you look at me with caring eyes,' Ricktor started to wonder.
He thought back to when the Erupting Fist Clan wasn't one of the top five major clans. When Ricktor was still a child, around the age of five, he had a love of martial arts.
His father Murkel had taught him wholeheartedly, training with him every day. They would talk about how he was talented and how Ricktor would be the one to progress the Erupting Fist Clan into a great clan for the Dark Faction.
The three factions had already been formed for a while, and peace had come across the land due to the martial arts events that would happen yearly, and the top clans of each faction were starting to take their place.
The Noctis Clan had already disappeared from the Dark Faction, starting an increase in new clans and powers within the Dark Faction. Yet, the Erupting Fist Clan was not in such a place.
There had been rumors of Murkel's great strength already, having bested clans bigger than them in duels. Yet his father never let it get to his head. Murkel, a talented and strong individual in the Dark Faction, was just that.
Some even claimed he was unambitious because Murkel never went after other clans nor tried to cement a place in the Dark Faction. That was until he did.
It was as if he was a man hiding his intentions in the shadows for a long time, and it changed when he achieved a position in the academy. He was nothing but an instructor, but from there he rose quicker than anyone else.
In the academy, there were those that wished to start trouble with Murkel, thinking that the rumors of such a clan head were just that, rumors, but he managed to best them all.
In turn, he was offered higher positions, and when he reached a senior position in the Pagna Academy, he strived to become principal and made everyone aware.
The entire clan had changed, focusing completely on power, and within half a year Murkel had become principal of the Dark Faction Academy. With it, he had also become the figurehead of the Five Great Clans.
There were rumors about what had happened, how the four other clan heads had met up, and all challenged Murkel at the same time. It was the only thing they could believe because there was next to no objection from the other clans, the ones that had been at the peak for an incredibly long time.
'That's right, it has to be around then when you joined the academy,' Ricktor thought. 'After that, you never even trained with me once. You would ask for reports, but it never seemed to be in a caring manner, only to see how strong one of your pawns was.'
'Your eyes were completely cold, and you no longer cared for me. You just cared for the power that I would give you.'
Ricktor, being the son of Murkel, knew that his ambitions had grown even stronger, to take over the entirety of the Pagna continent. To get rid of the Light Faction and the Demonic Faction.
For him, it seemed this was out of nowhere. His father had never spoken such words. In the past, he only cared for the Erupting Fist Clan, not the whole faction.
'What was it, father? What was it in the academy that changed you so much? Did you find something out? Or was it true, were you really hiding your ambition for such a long time and just found the right time to strike?'
Murkel had lived many years as a high-level middle-stage warrior. He was over a hundred years old but had the body of a middle-aged man. He had experienced and seen a lot of changes in the Pagna world.
Yet, he still chose to have a son. The woman who bore Ricktor had died at birth, the one he would call his mother. His father would tell him stories when he was young, but those stories were lost; he was too young to know what was said.
When he got old enough to remember, his father never spoke about her, and Ricktor could never bring it up.
'Who knows what has been going through that mind of yours, but you decided to keep me alive, and I still remember those fond memories. All I want to ask is if all those things were fake.'
Thinking this, Ricktor pushed himself up off the ground.
'I'm going to get my answer today, no matter what.'