Night grew deeper, and Yamile and her friends chose to rest for a while. They planned to carry out the rescue mission at the break of dawn. It would likely be an all-out war where death was inevitable.
The ruins of the old building that served as their temporary shelter grew quieter, with only the faint crackle of a small fire occasionally hissing in the night wind. Tora, Yamile, and Zhao sat in silence. But beneath that silence, a storm raged within each of their hearts.
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight," Yamile whispered, staring at the dying embers.
Zhao nodded slowly. "Me neither. Every time I close my eyes, I just see Uncle Marco's face."
Tora said nothing. He sat a bit farther away, gazing at the star-filled sky. His thoughts were fixed on one thing: killing Sora. For him, there was no room left for doubt or mercy. Marco was not just a father figure — he was the only family he had left. Losing him would be total devastation.
Yet behind his cold and determined demeanor, Tora's heart was in turmoil. He knew this mission was extremely risky. But there was no more time. Every second spent here could mean one second closer to Marco's death.
"Alright," Tora suddenly said, breaking the silence. "We move the moment the first light touches the treetops. I'll take the main route alone and make as much noise as possible. If I can, I'll make them think we're all attacking from that direction."
Yamile and Zhao nodded in agreement. They lay down to rest, hoping to recover their strength. The night breeze lulled them into a deeper and deeper sleep.
However, Tora was not among them. Though his eyes were closed, his mind and heart remained busy, preparing for the battle ahead. He was truly a skilled warrior — his abilities beyond question.
Dawn broke, and Tora immediately woke Yamile and Zhao. Their eyes burned with anger — they were ready to fight once more for one mission: saving Uncle Marco.
The three of them left immediately to storm Sora's stronghold. They used Marco's car, which was parked in the city center. Tora drove it fast.
After a while, they entered the forested area that bordered the beach — the location of Sora's base. Yamile and Zhao got out of the car and slipped into the woods. Tora continued driving alone.
He pushed the car to its limits. The tires screeched as he rounded sharp bends and rocky paths. Dust clouded behind him, erasing his trail. He knew this ruckus would draw Sora's men — exactly what he wanted so Yamile and Zhao could infiltrate unnoticed.
Meanwhile, Yamile and Zhao moved carefully through the forest, following a narrow path filled with roots and shrubs. The chirps of morning birds replaced the cries of night creatures, but the tension in their chests remained.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Yamile whispered.
Zhao nodded, showing her a rough sketch of a map. "This is what Tora described. We follow this forest path, then circle that hill — behind it is Sora's base."
Yamile looked sharply toward the hill. "Alright. We need to move quickly before they realize Tora is just a distraction."
Elsewhere, Tora neared the beach. He stopped the car by the roadside and parked it. "Take care," he said, patting the hood — it was his father's beloved vehicle, and he didn't want it ruined in the coming battle.
Tora took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, steadying his thoughts before attacking the base. Then, with sharp eyes, he sprinted toward a gate 500 meters ahead.
With his speed, he reached the gate in moments. He struck it with his full strength, sending it flying backward with a loud crash.
"Sora!" he shouted, summoning Sora and his men to face him.
However, a tall pole stood directly in front of Tora, although he couldn't see it clearly because of the swirling dust from the fallen gate.
A man stepped forward and waved away the dust. "Welcome!" he said, laughing loudly.
"Father…" Tora whispered as he saw his father crucified on the pole.
Marco's condition was terrible. His breath was weak, his face bloodied, a knife impaled his left shoulder, and his legs were covered in cuts that dripped blood.
In an instant, Tora transformed into the White Ape. His mace appeared in his hand. Furious, his eyes flared wide with rage — he was ready to kill the man before him.
That man was Goly, Sora's trusted aide, empowered by the demon Banas. Goly wasn't playing either — he transformed into the demon, his body engulfed in blazing flames.
Tora multiplied into ten copies and lunged at Goly in unison.
"Impressive power," Goly said casually.
But Goly didn't stay idle. His demon-ignited body expanded and suddenly exploded a wave of heat from within. The ten Tora clones were flung in all directions, slamming into rocks and trees with earth-shaking crashes.
The real Tora rose, gasping, but his eyes remained fierce with vengeance. He looked at his crucified father, blood slowly dripping from his wounds — yet Marco managed a faint smile.
"Don't die," Marco whispered from afar. His voice was barely audible, but it reached Tora's heart.
"I won't die… not until I kill him!" Tora roared and raised his mace high.
Goly lunged at Tora, blazing like a meteor. But Tora swung his mace with all his strength, sending a shockwave that split the ground. Tora flung Goly back several meters, yet he remained upright, chuckling.
Then Sora appeared, accompanied by Magenta. To make matters worse, a hundred troops pursued them. Now Tora faced an overwhelming army.
"So, do you still think you can beat me?" Sora shouted with a booming laugh.
Tora clenched his teeth, fully aware the battle ahead might be unwinnable. Still, retreat wasn't an option — his father's life hung in the balance. He had to fight, no matter the cost, even if the odds were stacked against him. Surrender meant certain death for his father.
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