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I do not own Tarzan or related characters and am not making a profit from sharing this story here. The character was created by Edgar Rice Burroughs and is now in the public domain. Any similarity between the characters in this story and real people is entirely coincidental and incredibly hot.
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Chapter 50: Clash of Titans-------------------------------- (c) tarzanstud1@gmail.com
Chapter 50 -- Clash of Titans
(As the Alpha Ascension approaches, Baron von Richter flashes back to his second run-in with tarzan from the past, another source of von Richter's thirst for revenge on the savage stud.)
The Baron's memories churned, a tempest of anticipation. He was prepared, forged in the crucible of vengeance. This time, he would not be denied.
In the heart of the jungle, the air was charged with tension. Tarzan stood at the edge of the clearing, his gaze locked onto the campsite where the Baron's expedition prepared their dark work.
Baron von Richter watched with a predatory gleam, hidden in the shadows. He had been anticipating this moment for years. Every defeat, every setback, had served to sharpen his resolve. Tonight, he would break Tarzan.
As Tarzan entered the clearing, the Baron's men feigned surprise, letting amusement dance in their eyes.
"Look who's back for another round, boys!" one of the men taunted. "Our jungle friend has a death wish!"
The taunts rippled through the camp, goading Tarzan further. The Baron allowed himself a smirk, relishing the anticipation that hung in the air.
Then, the signal came, a subtle nod from the Baron. The men lunged, a frenzied onslaught of fists and weapons. Tarzan was a blur of motion, meeting each assault with a grace born of the jungle's crucible.
A brute swung a heavy club, aiming for Tarzan's skull. With a swift pivot, Tarzan evaded, his counterattack driving the man to the ground.
A second assailant, wiry and agile, leaped at Tarzan's back. In a seamless flow of motion, Tarzan twisted, sending the man hurtling into the underbrush.
As the battle raged on, Tarzan's strength waned, each blow exacting its toll. Yet, he remained a force of nature, a tempest of defiance. The Baron's men faltered, their bravado replaced by weariness.
In the heart of the chaos, Baron von Richter's eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction. Tarzan was formidable, there was no denying it. But the Baron was prepared. He had spent years honing his body and mastering his combat skills. He was no longer the man Tarzan had once faced.
As the final henchman fell, defeated, Tarzan stood alone, his breath ragged. He glared at the Baron, a challenge that resonated through the night.
The Baron emerged from the shadows, clad in black leather that accentuated every sinew of his powerful frame. His chest harness gleamed, and the leather jock clung to him like a second skin. Knee-high boots completed the ensemble, a testament to his dominance.
Their eyes locked, a tempest of defiance and resolve. Tarzan's loincloth, worn and tattered, seemed a frail defense against the Baron's imposing presence. The tension hung heavy, the jungle itself holding its breath. The clash of titans was imminent.
With a feral snarl, Tarzan lunged, his attack embodying the wild fury within him. The Baron met him, their bodies colliding with a resounding impact.
Muscle strained against muscle, sinew against sinew. Each movement was a calculated dance of dominance, a test of wills that resonated through the night.
The Baron's strength was undeniable, a force of nature that threatened to overwhelm Tarzan. Yet, the jungle's son was not so easily subdued. He fought with a primal ferocity, a refusal to yield.
For every devastating blow, Tarzan retaliated with a relentless assault. Their bodies collided, a tempest of raw power.
As the battle raged, a sense of grim determination settled over the combatants. This was a battle that would be decided by sheer force of will.
The moon hung high, its light casting long, eerie shadows across the clearing. The clash of titans continued, sustained by the unyielding spirit of both men.
And as the night wore on, the outcome remained uncertain, the jungle itself holding its breath in anticipation of the victor.
To be continued...
END OF CHAPTER FIFTY-------------------------------------
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