Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

The battlefield was a fucking hurricane, no, the battlefield wasn't just a hurricane anymore.

It was a fucking warzone.

Water slammed into the earth, breaking apart concrete, leaving deep craters where solid ground used to be, twisted through the air like living snakes, coiling and snapping, but it wasn't just water anymore. As Parker cut through the storm, he felt the shift—the energy in the water condensing, changing. He moved, the sheer force of his seemingly soft footwork sent shockwaves through the air, his momentum cracking the road beneath him. Lightning-fast air pressure bursts followed his movements, invisible but violent, scattering debris and shaking the very atmosphere.

'Water Dragons!" He roared!

Theseus' dragons roared, their golden eyes burning, their bodies shifting—scales forming in full detail, no longer just water, but real, solid beasts.

One lunged.

Parker answered.

Boom.

His fist slammed into the dragon's jaw, and the shockwave hit first—splitting the air with a deafening crack before the actual impact even landed. The scales shattered, fracturing like glass, sending shards flying as the force ripped through the beast's structure. The entire dragon reeled back, its form rippling from the blow, struggling to keep itself together.

They were surprisingly but unsurprisingly—to Parker—solid.

"Damn, that's solid. Almost felt that one." Parker smirked. "Almost."

The dragon snarled, and the others moved.

Another swung its massive tail, a whip-fast arc of destruction—but Parker was already twisting. A side-step—fluid, effortless. The tail slammed into the ground instead, exploding the pavement into a cratered mess, but Parker had already launched forward, using the force of the dragon's attack against it.

Theseus was waiting.

Schwip! Schwip! Schwip!

Spears—five of them, made of hyper-condensed water, sharp as actual steel, ripping through the air like missiles.

Parker barely even looked.

One, two, three—he moved between them, body shifting at impossible angles, letting the spears whistle past him with barely an inch to spare. The fourth? He caught it mid-air, fingers closing around the water-forged weapon like it was nothing.

The fifth?

He threw himself backward, planted a handstand mid-fall, and kicked the damn thing into oblivion.

The sheer force of his kick sent a shockwave through the space, the air booming as the redirected spear tore past him and impaled a dragon through the chest. The beast howled—a deep, guttural, bone-shaking roar, its body writhing as cracks spread through its form, golden energy leaking from the fractures.

It wasn't dead. But it was feeling that one.

"Yo, Theseus, you sure these things are built to last?" Parker dodged another attack, barely breaking a sweat. "'Cause I swear, they're getting softer."

The 'warlord' didn't answer. His aura was rising, his frustration bleeding through.

Good.

Another dragon surged forward—its entire mouth opened, unleashing a torrent of water, a raging flood that crashed toward Parker with earth-shattering force.

Most people? Dead. Drowned. Pulverized.

Parker?

He fucking ran on it.

His body was light, his movement effortless—each step a perfect calculation as he glided across the flood, using the rushing torrent like a solid surface. The dragon snapped at him mid-run, its fangs closing in—

Parker jumped.

A clean, controlled flip—his momentum twisting, turning his entire body mid-air—before he dropped straight down with a brutal axe kick to its snout.

Boom.

The dragon's entire face shattered. Scales cracked, loosened, ripped free, flying in every direction as the beast's roar shook the city.

One down. Four to go.

Another dragon rushed him from the side, but Parker was already moving. He ducked low, his body twisting in a controlled spiral, avoiding its snapping jaws by mere inches.

He laughed. "Damn, you guys are slow."

Theseus' aura flared.

Parker just smirked.

Because he wasn't just fighting.

He was fucking dancing.

*

The battlefield was a symphony of destruction, and Parker was the orchestra conductor.

Each step he took sent ripples through the air, and every punch shattered the very fabric of the environment. The dragons and their master were getting desperate. Their roars now a frantic, chaotic howl, their bodies battered and bruised, yet relentless in pursuit.

But Parker?

He was untouchable.

A massive tail swung at him, and without hesitation, Parker launched into a flawless aerial spin, his body twisting at the perfect angle, his foot connecting with the dragon's spine, sending the beast crashing into the ground with a thunderous crash.

Boom.

"Down! Fake dragon!" he muttered, voice casual, as if he wasn't in the middle of a fight with ancient water dragons.

But they were not done.

The remaining three lunged at him from different angles, fangs bared, claws slashing through the air. Parker responded with the grace of someone who had danced with combat his whole life—fast, elegant, controlled. He didn't just dodge, he moved with purpose, his fists and feet connecting with their scaled bodies in rapid succession.

He stepped sideways to avoid a dragon's fangs, pivoting his body to deliver an elbow strike to its temple, the force of which sent the dragon staggering back.

Crack. Another's body broke as his palm strike landed on its ribs, cracking the scales and sending water rushing out in a torrent.

Theseus wasn't about to let Parker have all the fun.

He summoned weapons made of water—sleek, crystalline swords, sharp, jagged spears, and whips of pure, condensed liquid power. He hurled them with pinpoint precision. They flew through the air, aimed straight at Parker's vital points—one aimed for his heart, another for his head, and another for his legs.

But Parker wasn't slowing down.

Parker's momentum was a force of nature, a tsunami of fluid strength. He ducked under the first spear, his body moving like water itself. A split second later, his hand shot up, grabbing the incoming sword, and with a snap of his wrist, he whirled it around, sending it flying right back toward Theseus.

Theseus barely blocked it, his expression darkening.

He was getting serious now.

Parker danced between the dragons' attacks like a ghost, his body barely a blur in the air. He dodged and weaved, his feet almost gliding over the cracked streets. His fists and feet collided with their jaws, their necks, their bellies, every strike perfect and fluid as if he were drawing a deadly ballet. Boom, boom, boom!

One dragon went down with a solid kick to the ribs, another with a snap of his leg to its skull. The third took a devastating spin-kick that sent it hurtling backwards, the beast crashing into the wreckage of a nearby building. It roared, water leaking from every wound, but it was still alive.

Meanwhile, Theseus' spatial traps were beginning to activate. The air shifted. He raised a hand, and ripples of space seemed to bend around Parker.

The momentum of the fight seemed to slow, like the air itself was pulling at Parker's body, locking him in place.

"What the hell?"

Parker gritted his teeth, his body fighting against the pull, his muscles straining as the spatial lift traps tried to hold him in place. The gravity of space itself was fighting him, trying to keep him from moving freely. But Parker? He wasn't just going to stand there and take it.

"I don't have time for this bullshit," he muttered, pushing against the air itself.

His entire body shifted, a burst of raw force launching from his core. His momentum alone shattered the spatial traps, ripping apart the folds of space and breaking free from the hold with a brilliant shockwave that sent a violent pulse through the air, making the surrounding dragons stagger back.

He was free again.

Theseus, still focused, summoned more weapons—whips, spears, and swords—and launched them at Parker, this time with deadly accuracy. The whips cracked through the air, aiming for Parker's arms and legs, the spears piercing the air at blinding speed.

Parker barely flinched.

"Is that all you got, Theseus? And yet you dare stand in my way! Die!"

He sidestepped one of the whips, then spun around, grabbing another spear out of the air and hurling it back at the dragons. It pierced a dragon's throat, the beast screeching in agony before it collapsed into a gushing flood of water.

Parker leaped over the wreckage, his legs propelling him forward like a spring, his fist colliding with another dragon's skull, the force of the hit shattering its head and sending it crashing to the ground in a heap of water and broken scales.

Two dragons left.

Theseus wasn't going down without a fight, though. He lifted his hand again, his power surging as space itself seemed to stretch, and another spatial trap formed, this one even more dangerous—designed to freeze Parker in place entirely.

Parker felt it before it hit, the gravity shifting around him as the air compressed and tried to drag him back.

"Not today, buddy."

With a roar, he broke free, his momentum still going—he broke through the spatial hold with a sudden burst of power. His punches and kicks landed with shocking speed and elegance, his fists smashing against scales, breaking them open and sending the final two dragons roaring in agony.

Boom, boom, boom—the dragons fell, and their bodies dissolved into gushing torrents of water.

"Come on these ain't real dragons to hope they can contend against me! This is humiliation to the dragon race! And for that humiliation you're going to pay it with tenfold!"

Theseus watched, his brow furrowed in frustration not knowing how to reply Parker, but Parker could see it in his eyes—anger, surprise, and something else—respect.

"But I will give you a chance. Run like a coward, Theseus. It's your only salvation!" Parker didn't even break a sweat.