"Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh," the sound of troubled breathing could be heard throughout the entire arena, as white air puffed out of Zera's lips and nose, two cuts on his face from which golden-colored blood dripped down, staining the wretched ground beneath him.
Opposite him, Asura stood, not a single slash mark to be found on him at all, his back as straight as a mountain, his aloofness the same as ever, while holding his four axes within his grasp.
"You lack!" The same word that he had said at the beginning of their battle was said to him once more as Zera took a deep breath, calming his heart.
The result of their battle was as clear as day. And it was just as Asura had said. He was lacking compared to the devil before him. In physical strength, Asura was stronger than him. In combat prowess, Asura was unmatched and had more experience than him.
It was what even he had to give credit to the young man for. The devil was truly strong, just as he had suspected.
