The Thousand Mask Warrior

Amin

A pair of eyes of Karawek sparkling watching her hero fighter win again. He did not expect, after not being seen for more than forty days in their village, Arthit grew stronger and more powerful. He defeated the enemy so quickly, briefly and densely. Though he had witnessed the hero several times facing his opponent, but nothing was this brief.

Karawek might be more excited than a kepalang if he knew that is the bet, and now has won the man worship.

Only, Karawek had to wait once again for the fight scene before he was carried by Arthit. The silat tomoi swordsman from Pattani turned out to be ready to face the Muay Paak Klang.

"The respect of Pattani to an Arthit the Muay Paak Klang" said the opponent, clenching his palms over his forehead. "I'm Amin. I may be similar to you, one who thirsts for martial arts and canoeing. I've long heard of an Arthit. I was lucky to finally find you. I beg you, give your guidance, do not hesitate and earnestly," said the Pattani man named Amin.

Shortness of air cannot escape the sensibility of Arthit's senses and shortness of instincts. Amin was definitely not an ordinary person, even though the words in Siamese flowed smoothly, eloquently and politely from his mouth. The hidden power must be behind good grammar apparently.

Horses begin. Amin tiptoed and twisted his arms around each other, once. However, unlike the fighting style of silat tomoi or silat Muay Boran usually, he opened all his fingers and did not form a fist.

"Ah, tomoi with Malay silat, apparently," cried Arthit understood.

He himself had turned the back of his palm down and his arms were directed almost parallel to the front of his chest, instead of next to his head or face, just like ordinary Muay Boran horses.

Clearly, both styles of Muay Boran silat are equally unusual. Should be, the fight became exciting and unusual anyway.

I don't know why Karawek's heart became excited, not because of carefree, but worried. There was a wind of unrest sweeping towards him. Though he did not know that he himself has officially become 'gift' Arthit. It was as if her instincts were to say that Arthit did indeed have to win today as her idol.

Amin took a quick step forward while giving a series of attacks: a straight left-handed fist, followed by a long right-handed fist and a leg sweep towards the waist.

The first two strokes Arthit could avoid. However, Amin's kick landed on the upper thigh, slightly below the waist.

Arthit.

Amin again kicked towards the other waist and one kick straight towards the heart.

Amin did not want to waste this opportunity. He spun twice to strengthen the kick he was about to throw.

Arthit turned out to still be unmoved instead of trying to dodge. A big kick hit his shoulder. He moved a little to the side.

Amin gathers energy in his silat style by quickly regulating breathing. He jumped up high, opened his fist and ready to split Arthit's head with the side of his right palm.

Arthit crossed his hands in front of his head.

PRAK!

A loud sound was heard.

Amin felt his hands tingling a little but had gone back to guarding his horses.

Arthit flinched backwards in response to the deep powered attack. But he looks fine.

"Hmm .., I have always been amazed by the energy styles of the Malays, Javanese and the archipelago. You guys are so painstaking in studying that kind of canuragan science. I'm a big fan and respectful of your efforts" Arthit said softly.

Now Amin who could not cover how shocked and surprised he was. The inner energy that he exerted almost half of his ability did not in fact cause much impact. He did not even see any effect on the people he attacked.

As powerful as that turned out to be an Arthit, thought Amin.

Arthit fixed a rope that wrapped around both of his upper arms. He closed his eyes for a moment. His mouth was muttering like he was casting a spell. After that, he clenched his fists again.

At once, Arthit darted forward, towards Amin the opponent with one fist pointed towards the head.