A Good Thrashing

Half of the second-round fights were done with four of the second-round fights already complete. The next duo to go toe-to-toe would be Khalor and Azamus.

Azamus was shaking with anticipation. His eyes were bloodshot red, his mouth dry and his breathing ragged. The people around him felt like they were looking at a wild animal.

He focused on finding the most humiliating way to beat Khalor to the ground. He wanted to make this a lesson for all to see.

That he was still number one. That level meant nothing before his unbeatable skill.

Khalor could feel the oozing hatred and killing intent washing off of Azamus, but it only made him laugh internally. To him, Azamus was a raging child, throwing a tantrum.

Both men teleported from the stands to the arena, Azamus taking out his rifle already. Khalor stood still, simply smiling.

The smile irked Azamus to no end, as his heart beat faster and harder.

The only thought in his mind was 'Kill!'.