The orange and red stone cliffs of the canyon, sanded down by hundreds of years of wind and dust were breathtaking. The morning light was just right to reveal the beauty of the rock they were stepping on, but not yet too harsh to sting the eyes.

The bright colors of the stone were like a wavey golden sea on a painting, with yellow sunrays reflecting the marvels of nature. Too bad nobody had time to stop and admire this fascinating natural landscape in the heat of battle.

Many Wind Walkers died embarrassing deaths after trying to attack Gerald's group. Some got slapped off the cliff like the first one, a few were cut apart by the rest of the gang after being surrounded…

However, most tragic of all was a man that died because he was too good at hiding. His clothes were so perfect in fact, and his Aura was so amazingly hidden, that even Gerald didn't know he was there.

And so he stepped on him. By mistake. With all his five tons of his stone armor.

There was a short scream, a crunch, and then a pool of bloody mush.

In short, it was tragic. It was like someone drove over him with a tank. It was so bad in fact, that even the gang of hot-blooded guys turned somber. Even if he was the enemy, that was just not a way to die!

After a moment of silence for the fallen opponent, they marched forward, this time a bit more carefully. Both to avoid mistakingly killing anyone, and also because the ambushes became quite common and fierce.

Five Sand Walkers jumped from their hiding places at once and attacked, however, with the combined might of the gang, they were quickly dispatched. Gerald didn't join that fight as it became unnecessary and simply stayed on guard against any more ambushes.

These nomadic tribesmen fought valiantly until the moment of their death, despite the numerical disadvantage they found themselves in.

Gerald was certain they were better fighters, and if the fight was even, his group would lose 99 out of 100 battles.

Their footwork and strikes with the blades were so unpredictable that the seasoned warriors were getting tricked and outplayed all the time. However, when there were three ganging on one, no matter how good the Sand Walkers were, it was impossible to win.

It was a shame they couldn't be observed for longer. Gerald felt he could learn many things from their movements and fighting style. But they had a canyon to save, so they continued down as fast as they could.

They could hear some kind of birds singing as they moved further down into the shadow, but soon the sounds of battle were all they could make out.

The fight was between the Sand Walkers and what Gerald assumed to be the inhabitants of the Wailing Canyon. Some fighters seemed to belong to a third group based on their attire, so perhaps a merchant caravan was also involved.

"You guys! Wait for me, damn it!" Dug came running after them and finally caught up. When he saw he wasn't too late, he breathed out a sigh of relief. This gang of his was really too straightforward. They just rushed in without a plan.

But now that he saw the battle going on, he quickly urged the rest, "What are you waiting for? We need to help them, let's go!"

The equilibrium of the skirmish quickly fell apart with the addition of reinforcements, and the Sand Walkers were quickly pushed back and surrounded until only a few remained.

"Oooh, let me take those!" Gerald quickly jumped in the middle before they dispatched the last two. With his giant stone body in the way, nobody dared to argue. The fighters made a circle around the three, weapons in hand, and waited for something to happen.

"Psst! What is Gerald doing?" Gustav whispered to his boss.

"How the hell should I know?!" Dug answered. He was just as clueless as the rest of them. "Hopefully nothing bad."

As people whispered among themselves, guessing what was going to happen, Gerald demolished the Golem Armor and showed himself.

"Alright you guys, show me what you've got!" Gerald shouted towards the two furious Sand Walker guys.

The way he pranced around, like a child in a candy store, was extremely disrespectful to the two of them who were used to the harsh life in the desert and strict societal structure that was built on strength and respect.

They took Gerald's actions as a blatant provocation and mockery as they were the last among the warriors to stay alive. They swore at that moment that they would take his head, even if that was the last thing they did!

'Angry? Good!' Gerald grinned and gripped his glaive with two hands. It was time to see what his Toothpick could do!

But before he could even take a stance, a blade already slipped past his guard, aiming for his head.

"Oh, no!"

"Watch out!"

A few screams and gasps came from the audience, but nobody could react in time to help. He was all on his own.

Of course, there were some that wished for him to get injured, even if just so he could learn a lesson and not strut around so arrogantly in the future, but most simply held their breath to see how he would react.

And they weren't disappointed! Gerald swiftly moved the Toothpick higher... and completely failed to deflect the blade.

Clang!

The sharp edge slid across his throat in a cutting motion, and it was without a doubt the action would have at least gravely wounded him, if not taken his head clean off… if he wasn't protected by magic.

Iron Body was no joke. Mere steel blades couldn't even scratch him, especially when carried by young men with no Cultivation.

"Hey, I wasn't ready…" Gerald grumbled and rubbed his neck where the blade grazed him.

His words made the two Sand Walkers frown deeply and at the same time received cheers and exclamations of awe from the onlookers.

"Alright, both of you! Come at me!" Gerald urged and taunted, "That barely tickled, surely you can do better?"

And they did! This time both men attacked at the same time when one of them somehow slipped past him and struck his back. The result was the same as the sharp steel edge cut through his clothes, only to be stopped by his invulnerable skin.

"Son of a-" Before he could finish his curse, the other blade struck down, aiming for his eyes. Gerald quickly closed his eyes and moved his head to the side and received a stab on the cheek.

The damn Sand Walkers quickly figured they couldn't hurt him normally and went for a different approach. It showed they had a lot of experience fighting as they didn't even say a word to each other and simply reacted, as if on instinct.

Gerald wasn't sure if his eyes could take the hit, but he wasn't willing to find out. He ducked and weaved in the sea of jabs and strikes, receiving many powerful impacts on his face and chest, all the while the second Wind Walker aimed for his other weak points.

An attempt was made to slash his tendons, stab the back of the knee, and even kicking and punching his family jewels wasn't off the table.

After the guy tried to force his way in through the backside with his blade, Gerald had enough. He was just playing around at first, but now he was pissed! Another man daring to play with his booty was over the line!

He bellowed out a powerful warcry and boosted his body's speed.

But all that amazing power was for naught. No matter how he moved, attacking fiercely, or defending valiantly, it was all futile! Somehow the two Sand Walkers were always one step ahead of him, deflecting his attacks, and simply circumventing his retreats.

Their skill was so much greater, that Gerald felt like a child being bullied by two martial arts masters. They couldn't hurt him, but still…

He realized that for all the power he had, the way he used it was absolute garbage! Inefficient, ineffective, incompetent, sloppy, and above all, it looked pathetic!

"What is this guy doing? I thought he was good…"

"Why does he let them hit his face and doesn't strike back? Is he playing with them?"

"I don't think so, look at his expression. He seems to be frustrated…"

"Don't tell me…"

"Yup, he's an incompetent showoff, nothing more."

Words like these were the ones that truly hurt, stabbing him straight in his heart. And if that wasn't enough, they were making him more frustrated, which then led to him making even more mistakes, which led to more people commenting…

In short, it was a vicious cycle that chipped at his confidence.

'Shut up, shut up, shut up!' Gerald shouted in his mind. 'This is much more difficult than it looks!'

Of course, nobody could hear his thoughts.

"Should we lend a hand? He seems to be in trouble…"

"That's it! I've had it!" He exploded with anger and blasted a pillar of flames into the sky amid a powerful roar. It spooked his assailants and gave him a short break as they took defensive positions.

But he didn't attack them with magic. Instead, his back straightened and his face became devoid of emotions. If anger and wrath didn't do the trick, how about leaving the emotions out of a fight?

And so he released his frustration in the form of a pillar of flames. Now only a cold and calculating mind remained, one that wouldn't let simple words and prickly jabs from swords shake him.

It was time for the real match to begin.