Chapter 11: Battle [1]

Chapter 11: Battle [1]

As the lights blazed to life, casting a blinding radiance across the arena, Demitas squinted his eyes against the intense glare.

Babyface stood steadfastly behind him, his skilled hands kneading and massaging his shoulders with firm yet soothing motions. The massage served to relax Demitas's muscles and enhance his focus, preparing him for the grueling fight ahead.

"Let's go," Demitas said, his voice filled with determination, as he ascended the steps of the ring. Each climb up the stairs brought him closer to the battleground that would determine his fate. Reaching the top of the ring, Demitas held onto the ropes, their tautness providing a sense of grounding amidst the intensity of the moment.

In the corner of the ring, a chair was placed, serving as a temporary seat for Demitas. He settled onto it, his body positioned with purpose and poise. He glanced across the ring, locking eyes with his formidable opponent.

The enemy on the other side stood resolute, their gaze fixed on Demitas, their body language oozing confidence. Undeterred, Demitas maintained his composure, fully aware of the challenges that awaited him.

Demitas focused his attention on the enemy, Berthold, and issued a command to the system to scan his opponent.

'System, scan the enemy.'

The system swiftly responded, providing valuable information about Berthold's profile.

[Command accepted]

[Name: Berthold]

[Race: Human]

[Rank: Low Slave (3)]

[Worth: 10 gold coins.]

[Age: 18]

[HP: 10/10]

[Strength: 10]

[Speed: 8]

[Endurance: 9]

[Stat points: 1]

[Skills: (1)]

1) Belittling [Lv.1] [7/10] [Grade: Low Slave (3)]

-> If you think that you are stronger than your enemy, deal 2x damage.

[Personality/Traits: Prideful; Cocky; Killer]

[Condition: Belittling, Worked up]

'Now, what's my condition?'

[Yours? Well, here.]

[Name: Demitas]

[Race: Human]

[Rank: Low Slave (3)]

[Worth: 20 gold coins.]

[Age: 16]

[HP: 10/10]

[Strength: 9]

[Speed: 7]

[Endurance: 15]

[Stat points: 1]

[Skills: (1)]

1) Never Give Up [Lv.1] [8/10] [Grade: Low Slave (3)]

-> If HP drops below 40%, all stats double.

[Personality/Traits: Brave; Strong Will; Honest]

[Condition: Confident, Calm]

"I see now, this fight would be a little hard. The enemy is stronger than I thought,"

[Bruh, be cautious.]

The system's analysis had revealed that Berthold, his opponent, possessed certain advantages in terms of strength, speed, and skills.

Demitas felt the tight grip of the rope gloves on his hands, courtesy of Babyface's assistance. The makeshift gloves provided him with a unique sensation, a reminder of the intensity and rawness of the upcoming fight. He clenched his fists together, feeling the texture of the rough ropes against his skin, and let out a deep breath to calm his nerves.

As the referee called for him, Demitas stepped forward, his eyes locked on his opponent. Demitas couldn't deny the physical advantages that Berthold possessed. The height, the broadness, and the longer arms gave his opponent a natural advantage in terms of reach and power. It was clear that Berthold's physique alone made him a formidable opponent.

While he imagined the scenario, Demitas recognized the significance of his opponent's physical attributes. He couldn't afford to let Berthold overpower him or land devastating blows due to the difference in size and strength.

The thought of Berthold being skilled in martial arts as well added another layer of complexity to the situation. It would undoubtedly make the matchup more challenging.

Demitas was fueled by a fiery determination that refused to back down from any challenge. The thought of rejecting a challenge and accepting a defeat without even putting up a fight was utterly repulsive to him.

Feeling the sting of his bitten lower lip and the taste of blood, Demitas channeled that physical pain into a mental resolve.

As the tension in the arena reached its peak, Demitas and Berthold stood face to face, the weight of their lives and the expectations of the onlookers hanging heavily in the air.

Both fighters understood the risks involved, knowing that their lives could be lost in the blink of an eye. It was a dangerous and unforgiving environment, where every punch and every move carried tremendous consequences.

The crowd held their breath, their eyes fixed on the combatants in the center of the ring. The stakes were high, and the outcome of this fight could mean life or death for the participants. But despite the risks, Demitas was determined to give it his all.

With a booming voice, the announcer's command pierced through the air, sending a thrill of anticipation rippling through the crowd. "Fight!" he bellowed, and in an instant, the atmosphere shifted.

The spectators leaned forward, their eyes fixated on the combatants before them, hungry for the spectacle that was about to unfold. They craved the sight of raw violence, a spectacle of blood and brutality that would sate their darkest cravings.

The clash of their bodies echoed through the arena as Demitas launched his initial attack. His fist surged forward in a powerful straight punch, aimed at Berthold's face. But Berthold, with lightning-fast reflexes, deflected the blow with ease, redirecting the force away from his vulnerable target.

Seizing the opportunity, Berthold countered promptly, his knee rising in a fierce kick towards Demitas' abdomen. Despite Demitas' efforts to block the strike, the sheer power behind Berthold's attack was overwhelming. The impact reverberated through Demitas' body, causing him to stagger back, feeling the jarring pain sear through his abdomen.

Gritting his teeth and summoning his resilience, Demitas quickly regained his footing, refusing to succumb to the agony.

Still, the enemy did not let him catch his breath. Three consecutive strikes landed squarely on his face, causing his vision to blur and dizziness to set in. The impact reverberated through his skull, rattling his senses and testing his resolve.

Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength and determination, Demitas retaliated with a surge of adrenaline. Ignoring the disorientation, he mustered a rapid counterattack, launching a powerful punch towards Berthold's face. The blow connected with resounding force, snapping Berthold's head back and momentarily stunning him.

For a fleeting moment, the tide of the battle shifted, as Demitas's punch landed with precision and force. The crowd gasped, momentarily silenced by the sudden turn of events.

With newfound determination and a hasty recovery, Demitas regained his composure and launched a fierce counterattack. As Berthold tried to steady himself, Demitas swiftly rotated his body, unleashing a powerful kick aimed directly at his opponent's face. The force behind the strike was undeniable, as Demitas's foot connected with Berthold's jaw, sending him stumbling backward.