"Congratulations to those that predicted correctly one of the first winners of this round!" Thelicia announced. "Though a little unexpected that anyone would outpace the crowd favorite, Number Seven, considering that he wasted no time in dispatching his first opponent. But we can't blame the man if both of his other potential opponents turned out to be sniveling cowards! And they looked like somewhat promising warriors! You really can't judge a book by its cover."
"It's... It's fine!" the tall and slender leopardkin tried to reassure his duel opponent, the bearkin, though it wasn't clear which of the two needed the reassurance more, and whether there were any words in this world that could help them regain their courage. No matter which of them would win the duel, they would have to face Number Seven. "Fighting to the death to see which one of us dies by his hand while the sick fuck watches!? Fuck that! As long as our duel doesn't end, he can't do shit!"
"If both of us would die by his hand anyway, might as well take him down with us, huh?" the bearkin reasoned. "You hear that, you big fuck! We ain't gonna be some cheap show for you!"
"I see," the mountainous Number Seven said calmly while he looked at the torturous agony that Number Fifty's bald eagle delivered to her teammate. Number Seven then picked up the large square shield off the ground and moved toward his two beastkin teammates.
"The fuck you doing?" leopardkin asked and took several unsteady steps back. "If you kill us, you're dead meat anyway!"
"I know," Number Seven said and swung his long 'Cleaver' weapon across the leopardkin's kneecaps with blunt side forward.
"KYAAAAA!!" leopardkin fell over.
Despite the casualness of Number Seven's swing, the power behind the attack was enough to break a knee. Number Seven swung around and delivered similar treatment to the bearkin's kneecaps with the square shield, slamming it repeatedly against the bear's knees even while the bear was on the ground. With another swing of the cleaver, Number seven ruined the leopardkin's other knee, before the coward could crawl away.
"This doesn't have to be more complicated than it is," Number Seven said as he grabbed the leopardkin's leg and dragged him closer to the bearkin. "I will stop torturing you as soon as either one of you decided to fulfill your duty and kill your respective opponent."
The bearkin attempted to bite Number Seven's leg, but "the fridge" slammed his square shield across the bearkin's jaw, breaking it, and countless teeth along with it. He then picked up one of the broken teeth and jammed in under a fingernail of the leopardkin, beginning the torture of his potential opponents, inspired by a certain righteous girl.
In parallel to those gruesome events, Olivia kept dodging attack, after attack from her beastkin opponent that she selected precisely for the reasons that she now struggled with him: he was damn strong, if not as fast as her. But speed alone was not enough, as could not approach him to deliver a fatal blow, and her ranged attacks were easily defended.
Olivia bent backward, as the sword wielded by Number Thirty-three swung over her head. In this compromising position, she did not even have enough chance for a counterattack unless she pointlessly expended her dwindling arsenal for a shot that her opponent had already proven to be capable of easily deflecting. Instead, Olivia kept her distance, hoping to tire out the stronger opponent.
"Stop running around and fight me like a man!!" Number Thirty-three screamed in frustration, swinging his sword around like he would try to swat a fly.
Taking possession of the sword proved easy enough for Number Thirty-three, the biggest of the three beastkin that Olivia ended up teaming up with. The other two beastkin, Number Three and Number Forty-five, as formidable as they looked, ended up lacking in resolve. Even though they both looked like they could have a chance against Number Thirty-three, one thunderous roar was enough to make them hesitate and rethink their chances. They did not dare to get injured and end up in an unfavorable situation for their own duel. And such hesitation was all that was needed for Number Thirty-three to secure the single weapon that was left for their team.
Even now, Numbers Three and Forty-five kept changing blows in a hand-to-hand brawl that left them both scratched up and bloody. As Olivia kept avoiding her opponent she never strayed too far from her other two "teammates".
"AARGH! Annoying!" Number Thirty-three screamed, increasingly frustrated. He had the strength to crush Olivia like a bug, he just needed to catch her!
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