Indeed, I could do this, had to. Two days. That was what it took to burn through 36 fights. 18 a day... There must be some monsters in this competition, was my conclusion.
Some obvious monsters. Some like my opponent. The fuckers weren't sparing with their obvious distress at my earlier win.
I don't know how many non-humans were left in the tournament, but there mustn't be many of them for sure.
Anyway, this time, there was no portcullis for me to smash. Only a fine wide hole I could step through when and how I liked.
On the flip side, the opponent wasn't sane and had to be shackled with a scary amount of iron chains. He wasn't human either.
A lizardman with... ogre ancestry? Or a guinea pig of some crazy mage? There were so many wounds on that bursting body that I couldn't even count them all.
Plus he was so unnaturally ripped, I knew for certain somebody messed with nature. The anchorman didn't have much to say this time.
Even his oppressive enthusiasm wasn't there at the moment. Got probably chewed out by the superiors because of my survival? That could be it.
Anyway, I was rather unsettled at this turn of events. In my current state, the youth in my arms wasn't exactly safe there.
At the latest when we clash... the picture is too gruesome to think about. Me rolling on the ground as my essence scatters completely.
I could only leave her in a place within my reach, should such be required. That she would roll around or crawl was off the table too.
The youth had no energy, she was around the face too and her ears and tail were no longer twitching either.
I for sure wasn't a master of knowledge pertaining to The Races, but this could but spell trouble. The fight was about to begin, so I left her near the entrance to the outer ring.
Landing there during your fight would disqualify you squarely, so I hadn't much to fear from another melee fighter not right in his mind.
"...so let us feast our eyes on this... fight." As soon as he ended, the chains broke and the creature was freed.
"Sruuuhhhhooooooooiiiiiiiiii!" The sound he produced was awful, as were the chains still latched onto his limbs now hurling my way.
I ducked and rolled, the things crashing onto the ground near me, ripping open holes in the stone with the depth of a fist.
I might have to correct my earlier statement. The youth wasn't absolutely secure back there. If one of those...
Reason enough for me to reduce the distance between us with one big leap, ready to punch some brain-altered lizardmen his brains out.
If that organ still resided behind the skull, that was. My fist tore through the air, producing whistling sounds.
Contrary to my earlier opponent, this one countered immediately. "Shueeeeee... shuu... uuuueeehhh!" He brabbled some incomprehensible lines while meeting my fist with his own.
Bang! The look on his mangled face was one of rapture, happy for another toy. Mine was not so much, for that punch hurt.
"Shit you are. The madman swapped your bones with steel." And the nails with short blades I countered in with my own, albeit barely.
Few inches from my face, our claws met. While his were also altered with some unknown mana signature, mine weren't easily outdone either.
Anyway, him meeting mine straight on without as much as a complication arising gave incredible credit to his maker.
So we danced a few rounds. Him slashing away and me countering and counterattacking when the opportunity presented itself.
I was slowly approaching my self-imposed limit, but that fight didn't look like it was over soon. The lizardman switched up the difficulty.
Apparently, that altered brain of his was still useful for something. I no longer had the claws alone to watch out for, but also both feet, altered similarly, and the occasional attempts to entangle my limbs with the chains.
His tail provided enough support for all that additional weight, which was totally contrary to anything I knew about lizardmen anatomy.
He didn't seem to tyre either, but most excessive weapon modifications didn't exactly care about survivability. As long as the task was complete, the intervention had been worth it.
His creator probably thought similarly, for even when I broke off an arm, a blade came extending out of the wound now dipping greenish secretion.
More than that, he didn't register. No pain, no surprise, no hatred, nothing. Only that maniac smirk and the ongoing brabble continued to grave me.
I suddenly felt my back burning up in pain, so I turned swiftly and glared at the culprit. It was... the arm.
Now covered in many smokey runes, the limb didn't look like it had much juice left to do its dastardly thing.
But what it lacked in operating time, it more than made up for with utility. My back hurt like hell, which should've been impossible.
Even in my weakened form, my scales weren't decorations. A closer inspection, and for that I had to evade who knows how many sweeps and stabs, revealed complicated circuitry.
All engraved all over the good piece. They reminded me of a certain group of asshats in the past. Possibly his creator unearthed their inheritance.
With another yank, I broke the remaining blades on his other hand and cut off some toes entirely. In my rage, I'd used some whiffs of mana.
Of course, I felt like crap immediately after. But so did the enemy. Or did he now? "Shit," I muttered. "Horseshite."
The lizardman no longer had that mad smirk on his face. There was no longer rapture etched deeply on his features, but fury.
Raw, unbridled fury. So the circuitry all over his body responded. They lit up like fireworks. This fight just entered the second round. And my energy was almost entirely spent...