A Need To Escape

"Hahahhahahaha! I told you, Carlos! Such an unsightly slave would never win." Dustin laughed hysterically at the sight of the Titan's neck being slashed.

A battle of lives turned into a sick form of enjoyment.

"Idiot! I may have bet on the fat one, but I placed the most on the ugly wolf one. He definitely won't lose." Carlos crossed his arms, staring intently at the match.

"Wrong! Idiot. My slave will win! Did you forget what happened to your chosen one last time?" Seeing the frown on Carlos face made Dustin incredibly pleased. Truthfully, he did not have much hope for his slave, thinking the round would go to someone else.

"You're even stupider than I thought if you think your slave will win. His only strength lay in his luck." He scoffed, turning to Dustin, "How about another bet?"

Dustin smiled at the remark. A chance to gain another prized slave of Carlos?

"I agree!" He excitedly said, "The last slave of yours was a perfect tool to test how long people last in lava."

Hearing what he said, Carlos frown deepened, "You killed her!?" His fists squeezed tight, "She was my favourite toy bastard!"

"If I win this bet, I want the rights of marriage to your fiancé."

"HAHAHAHA! Fuck you! I agree!" The two then concentrated at the battle, hope budding in their hearts for the win of their chosen slaves.

Azazel had many ways to counter a speed based opponent. But as always the best plan for a situation where he was unsure, was to become water and follow the current.

Attacks whisked past his head, the dagger coming dangerously close. The Phantom then jumped back, gaining some distance, slightly out of breath.

For such a stealthy opponent frontal battles were their biggest weakness. The whole arena was lit up in lights, rendering any hiding spot null.

Azazel tensed his legs, exploding forward with all his power. He then took off his shirt, throwing it at his opponent, aiming to create an opportunity.

'To hell with circumstances; I create opportunities.' Such a quote from his God, had motioned him to the thought of distraction.

Especially since the opponent had one arm incapacitated, it was likely he would not be able to take the consequences of either, dodging the attack, or slashing through the fabric, any other option his opponent took, he would have to react and attack.

The Phantom decided quickly, dodging to the side. However instead of seeing his opponent, he saw nothing.

Azazel had used the the fabric to create a blind spot, and he was now directly behind his opponent.

*POW*

A sharp kick impacted his stomach, sending him flying back.

'Shit! His reaction was quick.'

Azazel felt blood trickling down his mouth, most likely because the attack's force impacted his body enough to cause trauma to his soft body tissue.

This would mean the possibility of one of his organs in chance of critical danger could be high.

But this did not influence the thinking process of Azazel. He would not make irrational decisions, like trying to end the fight faster. And it was likely that after good rest these organs could heal, due to his current physique.

His opponent spared no time waiting for Azazel to recover, and rushed toward him, unleashing another flurry of strikes.

Azazel acted slightly wary, his opponent not knowing that he was falling into a trap as he got more confident. He moved backwards, constantly dodging till he felt the fabric of his shirt on his foot.

Quickly ducking, he feinted a kick, one that his opponent had gone against previously. In accordance to his attack, the Phantom dodged sideways, and rushed his dagger toward Azazel.

But as his dagger got closer, Azazel grabbed his shirt, slipping under the attack, reaching his opponents back once again. But this time he whipped the cloth around his head.

Twisting in a 360 degree motion as fast as he could, Azazel managed to make a tight wrap around his head. With both hands being used as leverage, Azazel clamped down the fabric on the windpipe and carotid artery in one go, also blinding his opponent.

The oxygen and blood supply would simultaneously be cut off. Combined with the lack of stamina he had, it was a sure execution.

But the threat of a dagger in his opponents grip, which was nearing his hand prompted Azazel to quickly let go as he readied himself for his favourite move.

A one-inch punch drilled directly into the spinal cord located at the back of his enemies neck.

With the mechanism of kinetic linking, the force generated was enough to directly break it, ending all his enemies function to move.

The only outcome of such an attack is paralysis or death. And it seemed like his opponent had lucked out... Not for long.

*SPURT*

As his opponent was falling down, Azazel briefly grabbed his shirt, pulling him backwards. He then stepped to the side, raising his leg high up into the air, sending a kick using the bottom of his foot, to slam into the opponents frontal part of his neck.

An axe kick. One that resulted in death. The odd bend and angle, combined with the lack of breath confirmed it.

A real battle would not last long. Any opportunity could be used to end ones opponent in an instant.

'Hoooooooooooo, that was fucked. I even used my shirt as a weapon.' Azazel steadied his breath, while holding his stomach. It was likely he couldn't train after this match. It may cause more damage, and wouldn't be beneficial.

He had also used something else other than his body to fight. 99% of the time he would not opt for such nasty methods, but even Bruce Lee had used nun chucks, and while he much like Azazel, preferred technique and body 99.99999% of the time, on such an opportunity in a life and death battle, both would use it to the fullest.

The come down of adrenaline, wiped any semblance of expression off his face, as he awaited the announcer to make his remark.

"THE WINNER IS... ASURA!!!!"

Azazel observed as the foul beings spectating the fight scuffled to collect their winnings and left. He also saw Dustin, who was laughing at another celestial dragon. A rather vile expression plastered onto his being.

'I need to escape soon. I cannot handle seeing these ugly fucks who don't know a single thing about martial arts, nor Bruce Lee.' He then moved toward the gate, whom a guard was waiting to chain him up, and take him back to his space.

"Once again you have pleased your master, slave." The guard grinned. If his master was in a good mood, the unnecessary beatings would not occur.

"Keep it up."

*THWUCK*

A punch was sent straight into Azazel's stomach, increasing the damage already inflicted. Such an action confused Azazel, but he guessed that maybe it was to try put him in his place.

It was highly likely that more rewards would taint peoples minds into thinking that they were somewhat on the same level, or above. A strategy of token economy did not work on Azazel however, therefore such an action was purely unnecessary.

But that was just one thought, which was highly unlikely to be true. Anyone in this place definitely had mental problems.

'This fucker must have something wrong with his brain.' Although he may use foul language, his being of water was not disturbed. Instead it would be used to fuel the mass tsunamis that would come crashing down when needed.

Silently, the two walked to his staying area, and Azazel was uncuffed. Once he had enough strength to break the cuffs, Azazel would be able to implement the first option of escape.

And with his strength rising at a steady pace, it would not be too long before it happened.