The Battle Ring is a place where fallen angels challenge each other to official duels. It had strict rules, which a fallen angel explained. "First rule: the fight should be fair. Both participants must be in perfect condition, and either both use weapons, armor, or other external aids, or none of them. "
"Second Rule: no attempts to kill your opponents are allowed. Everyone here is part of the family, while small disputes and arguments can sometimes occur. It should never become bloody. Severe punishments await those who violate this rule." He added.
"Last rule: the fight continues until one admits defeat or is rendered unconscious. No external interference is allowed once the battle starts."
Damien smiled slyly and added a condition of his own. "I'll fight, but only if we both agree not to use any external aids or weapons."
The audience had varying opinions on this. Some thought it was cowardly of Damien, while others said it was not his fault.
"This Damien is such a loser; first, he could not defeat that Naphilim in the earlier clash, and now he is adding this condition." said someone from the crowd.
Yeah, he is bringing the same to all of us; I never thought he would be such a coward.
"There is nothing cowardly in it. He is not proficient in using weapons. So he has every right to add this condition to make it a fair battle." disagreed with some near them.
"Alright, then Amon should also add a condition that they can't use magic too; then it would be more fair as Amon can't use magic." commented someone.
Amon looked at Damien, clenching his fist. His swordsmanship is his only advantage, but he can't disagree as he has no choice. He took a deep breath and thought about all the situations.
"Reply fast; I don't have the whole day," said Hiranyaksh impatiently.
"I agree," voice appeared from his clenched jaws; the arrow had already been released from the bow. Now, it couldn't be called back; if he backed down at this moment, he would become a joke along with his mother.
"At least he has inherited the wits of our family; he is better than that spineless Damien," a voice appeared from the crowd that made others laugh.
"I never like the arrogant attitude of that Damien; I will support Amon," said another. Damien was a famous bully, and Amon was just one of his targets. Due to being an untalented Nephilim, he was an easy target.
"Don't have high hopes; Amon was already disadvantaged even while using the sword. Without it, he is a clawless kitten fighting against a lion cub," commented someone who brought others back to reality.
Meanwhile, in the sky, Melusina said, "Ma'am, should I bring him back? He has gone mad; how does he believe he can fight a pureblood fallen angel his age barehanded?"
The fallen angel near her held her hand and said, "Stop, Melusina. Let him decide what's best for him. You can't babysit him all his life.
"But ma'am, he will be beaten up again," she said. A trace of concern appeared in her scarlet eyes. Since the time he was born, she has taken care of him. While she criticized him for being weak, deep down, she cared a lot about him.
"Listen to what I have to say. I will not stop you if you still want to help him after that." Said the fallen angel as she loosened up her grip on her wrist. She said something in her ears, which made Melusina's eyes widen in surprise.
After hearing it, she clasped her hand and stood at her place. Her eyes momentarily shifted toward her master. She could not understand what plans she had for Amon.
Ignoring her, the Gorgeous Fallen Angel shifted her Blue Iris back toward the training ground; unlike Melusina, no expression could be seen on her face.
In the corner of the training ground, concealed below the surface, lay the circular battle ring, a hidden theater of combat with ancient stones, and a female fallen angel warrior statue. The Warriors sought to prove their mettle here. Inside it, two boys could be seen. On the right was a pureblood Fallen Angel standing proudly with his long wings flapping, slowly scathing away dust.
Eight meters away from the fallen angel was a white-haired Nephilim who looked more human than the fallen angel. A brown-skinned, muscular man stood between them with a book.
The audience surrounded the battle ring, while most of them already knew the result. They still wanted to watch the fight hopping—something interesting to take place.
"Start." After asking if both participants were ready, Hiranyaksh announced the start of the battle.
Amon kicked the floor beneath him and launched himself towards Damien, leaving behind dust. To everyone's surprise, Daminen also charged at him. Their fists collided, and they exchanged some moves before a kick landed on Amon, pushing him back.
'Argh.' A groan appeared in the battle ring, and Amon could be seen clutching his stomach as the searing agony rushed through his abdomen. He clenched his fists and started charging again.
Onlookers shook their heads; in just one exchange, they could clearly see the difference in the strength of both fighters. The only reason Amon was still able to fight was because of the regeneration and physical endurance he got from his bloodline.
"I would have given up if it were me. There is nothing to be ashamed of; it was an unfair battle from the start," commented one of them.
"Even without magic, he is no match for Damien. This proves my point; he only succeeded because he launched a surprise attack," said Damien's friend.
As the battle continued, everyone gasped in surprise. Amon was now able to hold off on his own against Damien; he was able to land some punches despite Damien using his special eyes.
As the battle continued, Damien got more anxious: 'I just wanted to beat up and humiliate him and show him how inferior he was by defeating him without using magic.' What was happening was not something he had anticipated.
Frustrated, he jumped back for the first time and widened the space between them. His ebony wings extended wide, and their iridescent feathers shone in the faint spring green glow. As they arced backward, the glow became brighter.
Amon saw an opening, mustered up the full strength of his feet, and closed the gap quickly, his fingers clenched tightly. He jumped at Damien, his punch moving toward his opponent's face, carrying all the force of his body. 'I will not let him finish his casting.'
'Clap!' Damien's palms met together. With a grin on his face, he pointed them at Amon and said, "Wing Gust." With a sudden, majestic sweep forward, the wings unleashed their might, propelling a furious gust of wind toward Amon.,
'Whooosh,' Amon was pushed back multiple steps the next moment, his body hovering a little above the ground. His feet were trying to reach land, but the force of the wind carried him back, making him lose control of his body.
Damien's wings shone brighter and unleashed a series of powerful backstroke wingbeats, propelling him forward with astonishing speed and grace. The wind element gathered in his palm simultaneously.
He appeared closer to Amon, the smirk on his lips becoming wider, and launched a powerful palm attack at his chest, "Aerial Push."
The impact was nothing short of explosive as his palm connected, sending Amon hurtling backward with the force of a cannonball. He slammed into the sturdy fence with a bone-rattling thud; a crimson spray accompanied his painful cough.