The Tendou fighting style focuses on creating fast and powerful blows by coordinating various regions of the body. From the Silver King's perspective, Rentaro might not have mastered this martial art to its peak, but the inherent strength was still formidable.
As mentioned, the Tendou fighting style appears quite singular at first glance, where only the lower body provides assistance and the upper body is the primary source of power, delivering strong, high-speed strikes. Superficially, it looks like a street brawl, with nothing particularly special about its external form. However, the essence of the Tendou fighting style lies in its "internal" skill.
Although every world and every martial school has different classifications, the Silver King could divide martial arts into two parts: internal and external.
External are the parts that are intuitively expressed, visible to the naked eye, and easy to grasp. Stances, techniques, and moves can all be classified here.
Internal cannot be discerned with the naked eye, only perhaps through their resultant effects on the outside. Things like breathing, force accumulation, muscle manipulation, and so on, are all internal.
The exterior is the manifestation; the interior is the foundation.
Every punch Rentaro throws, although externally it looks like an ordinary curved swing, with a normal way of accumulating and releasing force, if one could examine his body at that moment, they would find that every part, from muscle to bone, was operating according to some complex change, countless times more intricate than usual.
It is because of this that Rentaro's seemingly ordinary punches carry such terrifying power.
But facing the Silver King, he felt as if his attacks were utterly impotent.
Every wind-slicing strike was effortlessly deflected by him, no matter how much Rentaro tried to vary his moves. Whenever Rentaro's fist approached the half-meter area around the Silver King, his arm would swing up, deflecting or redirecting Rentaro's punch elsewhere.
Even though the Silver King kept his word—his strength was only equal to Rentaro's normal state, far weaker than when Rentaro exerted his full burst of power—and his speed was virtually equal to Rentaro's, Rentaro had the illusion that the Silver King's hands were everywhere. Regardless of Rentaro's position, variation, or acceleration, it was all futile. It was like a stone sinking to the bottom of the sea, like striking water; it might look like it raises a great ripple, but in reality, the water suffers no pain or discomfort.
And this was when the downside emerged.
"Huff... huff..."
Sweat began to stream down his forehead, and a feeling of exhaustion appeared within him. It was lactic acid accumulating and causing muscle fatigue. His respiration was no longer sufficient to supply enough energy for his muscles to operate.
Rentaro was gradually losing strength.
Every one of his attacks carried great power, meaning the energy required to execute it was also greater than normal. No matter how good Rentaro's physical condition was, he couldn't eternally bear such exhaustion.
The Silver King saw that he had "played" enough and began to counterattack. And it completely confused Rentaro.
He used precisely what Rentaro had just done to strike back at him.
Although a detailed examination would show they were not 100% identical, the burst of force was real, the force accumulation was real, almost perfectly replicating the original power and striking Rentaro down.
This time, it was disastrous.
He might be excellent at attacking, but not at defending. Fighting opponents with less strength and speed than Rentaro would have been fine, but here, the opponent he was facing was almost completely identical to him in both strength and speed.
Rentaro was almost unable to resist. Every time that cold fist landed, Rentaro felt as if his internal organs were shifting mountains and filling seas, his muscles tearing, his bones fracturing into pieces.
It was just like when he was crushed by the gravitational force field of Kagetane.
It made him... afraid.
He collapsed, battered and pathetic.
In the mix of sweat and pain, Rentaro looked up. He saw the Silver King standing there like a high and mighty god, saw the dozens of Cursed Children's eyes fixed on him, and saw his friend's face filled with worry.
He felt humiliation, a raw, naked shame.
It made Rentaro recall the Tendou dojo that day. It seemed there was a memory he had eternally kept hidden, a memory of a genius, of Satomi Rentaro's humiliation.
He couldn't clearly remember the genius's face, and even the scene was vague. But it must have been like this...
Now, the thought suddenly sprung up in his mind: he just wanted to run away, like a defeated dog running back to seek comfort from the pride it had lost.
"What's wrong?"
The Silver King said in a deep voice.
"Feeling humiliated? Want to run away?"
He seemed to read Rentaro's mind. Every word was like a knife plunging through Rentaro's frail, struggling heart.
"No... I..."
Rentaro tried to object, but every excuse was like shouting into the void. Because his performance was undeniably pathetic.
"Traveling all this way, even risking danger to come in here. And you collapse over something so minor?"
"Ashamed because your face was damaged, wanting to run away because of a bit of male pride, not daring to admit defeat because of a bit of vanity."
"How disappointing."
"Satomi Rentaro, remember what you are here for."
"Is it for this trifle, or for something more noble? Something precious that transcends your pain, transcends your hatred, transcends your humiliation—something you are willing to exchange everything to protect, even your life?"
The Silver King spoke a torrent, every word as powerful as a waterfall crashing into Rentaro's ears. The young man trembled slightly, but he still kept his head down, as if accepting defeat.
The Silver King shook his head slightly, his impatient tone turning to contempt. He turned and waved his hand.
"Get out. Tell those IISO people to find you a new Initiator."
"Don't dream of finding that girl again, because to you, that girl is merely a tool to soothe your own tainted mind."