"Enough!" Marsha grew irritated as none of her attacks landed on this punk named Bazzy.
She was almost starting to doubt herself, so she fell back five meters and released a battle cry. Her atmosphere exploded, and her face was flushed red. A sinister aura leaked from her body.
"MARSHA, STOP IT NOW!" bellowed a masculine voice from the crowd below. "Young sir, this battle is your victory. I will surrender on behalf of my disciple."
"Teacher, no! I can still win!" Marsha was utterly unwilling to accept this outcome.
"At what cost?!" bellowed the middle-aged man with an imposing presence.
Bas felt this man looked older and older the closer he approached. The older-looking man glanced at this young man who was superior to his disciple but hadn't even attempted to attack. The old coot felt this so-called Bazzy Dagod had shown him sufficient respect after the former's earlier warning.
How could he know Bas just wanted to play for a bit?
The ancient guy looked at his disciple and lost his patience, "Leave the cage, now!"
"This...I..." Marsha's eyes were filled with reluctance, but she didn't dare to disobey. She started to drag herself off the stage in misery, "Yes, master."
"Wait," Bas called out from behind Marsha without turning around.
"Don't push it, punk! You're being spared today, okay? Spared!" Marsha gnashed her teeth in anger.
First, her teacher made her concede in public before she could even risk it all with her trump cards, and now this brat dared to humiliate her? Marsha almost blew a gasket.
Bas didn't bother with her and turned to the definitely not young man in the crowd. Bas felt that this old coot should be at the Hunt Foundation's tenth level, the Sky Foundation's peak, and the peak of the entire Fifth Class. Bas didn't fear that level of strength; his origin power already reached level 15. He knew this elderly gentleman stopped Marsha because the former was more familiar with Bas' speed than his disciple.
He looked at the man and said calmly, "Your disciple can leave the cage, old man, but only if she surrenders her butterfly knife."
"Why you!" Marsha activated the switchblade motion and was about to hack down with that very blade when she heard his words.
"ENOUGH!" called out her teacher.
He looked at Bas very profoundly. That the boy referred to him as an old man only further accented how young a talent he was. He didn't put the old man in his eyes.
Bas stood there casually before waving a hand at Marsha, who was on the verge of explosion.
Her teacher sighed in defeat. This half-masked brat was unfathomable. He clearly wasn't using all of his strength. The awful thing was that Bazzy could play around with the middle-aged man's disciple in the same manner as the teacher himself.
"We have surrendered, Marsha. Give it to him."
"WHAT?! But master..." Marsha screamed in shock.
She felt so confused. Her master had never behaved like this before, so spineless!
So cowardly! So unusual.
Marsha didn't know that it was only for her sake that her teacher would ever behave in this manner. He could sense a dangerous indifference coming from her opponent. This was not the temperament of a wet noodle, and his disciple had never taken a life. She was precisely a wet noodle. If the boy killed her in the cage, it would only be his right.
"I said GIVE. IT. TO. HIM." Marsha's master had entirely lost his patience with this disciple. Not knowing her strength wasn't bad enough, no. She couldn't even read the atmosphere.
"Yes, master." Marsha slowly approached Bas, handing him her butterfly knife.
Bas instantly wiped away her mental imprint the moment he grabbed the dual handle, causing Marsha's body to shudder as she coughed up more blood. She was shocked at how he erased her connection with that knife built over five years of blood, sweat, and tears. Now, it was gone just like that, vanished into the wind.
Bas had only done so reflexively, and he didn't mind Marsha's reaction.
"You may go," Bas waved his hand as if the rest of this didn't matter to him.
He was now admiring this bronze class rym tool. Although he wasn't initially interested in knives, they were powerful and agile. It had the switchblade function and could transform into three blades. This chick totally underutilized such a treasure. Holding it in this new body felt right. He injected his inner ryms into the blade, circling through the energy circuits carved in the edge.
When the ryms returned, Bas felt his strength, agility, and stamina nearly double.
"Good find. So, she was so weak without this blade."
Hearing Bas' words as she walked out of the cage almost made Marsha drop to her knees as she coughed more blood.
"Winner, Bazzy Dagod, Rank 51st!" said the old man battle announcer as he held up Bas' arm in victory.
The crowd cheered, but many were lost in discussing Bazzy Dagod. Who was this black horse? He had just leaped ahead of more than 50 ranks in one battle, his very first battle! He had just kicked a high ranker down to the bottom mercilessly. Who wouldn't be impressed?
After honoring Bas as the winner, the referee handed over 500 silver credits inside a little jade card. Bas took the card and examined it with high curiosity. The card could only store crystals, which he found intriguing.
Restrictions usually make rules more powerful. Such a restriction must have allowed this to be mass-produced by lower-level hunters. He thought.
Bas used his spiritual ryms to absorb it inside his mother's storage ring, the only rym tool he possessed before today.
Outside the battle cage in the bleachers, Little Piggy stared with wide eyes and a hanging jaw. She was still anticipating battling this new friend before the match. After all, her rank was higher. She was planning to tempt him with it. However, before she had a chance to speak, Bas directly insulted the 51st-ranked! Afterward, he directly clobbered her!
"Ranked 3rd, Francis Stratus won't be very calm once he hears about this." Little Piggy looked worried.
Francis Stratus was a ninth-level Foundation hunter who always pursued Marsha as a love interest. He was sure to pop his top over this matter.
In the middle of the battle cage, Bas performed some ancient sword dances that he had created in the past. They were so dazzling and impressive that the loud crowd gradually quieted to watch Bas perform silently. After five minutes, Bas stopped the sword dance and shook his head.
'Doing a sword dance with a knife just doesn't feel the same.'
Bas suddenly started to dance in a far more wild and aggressive way. If he resembled a swan taking flight before, he now resembled a raging scavenger beast, a tiger in the middle of the hunt. The crowd was stunned.
This...they had never seen a dance like this.
It felt far more overwhelming than the subtle, elegant beauty of the former sword dance. This was a dance that made one feel immersed in a sea of blades. A blade dance. It was suffocating.
Bas calmly looked at the hundreds of people around him, saying, "All right. The great I, Dagod, am initiating an open challenge. Whoever wants to challenge me, step up now! I declare that I will remain undefeated before the Top 5!"
WAA!
"Did he just say he wouldn't leave the stage before reaching the fifth rank?"
"Did he refer to himself as a god or in the third person?"
"Only at the Eighth Level Hunt Foundation? Is he nuts?"
"No, he's a god!"
"No, I think it was in the third person."
"Hmph. He's just being arrogant."
Brazen! Reckless!
Bas single-handedly managed to piss off every sewer hunter with one sentence alone. It was as if no one here was able to enter his sight. Only the Fourth Class hunters wore amused looks on their faces. To them, the entire Fifth Class was just a show to be watched. They represented no threat at all.
Bas truthfully did not put anyone below Fourth Class Hunter in the Underground Battle League in his eyes. These sewer hunters would never scare him.
Once he revealed his hidden cards, not even a first or second-level Hunt Expert could take him on without at least a bronze class skill backed by a bronze class Hunt Record. Thanks to his Premium Wood Class - Evil Dragon Sovereign Record, Bas' strength was comparable to a first-level Hunt Expert. This was his strength without using any hunter skills. Once he used the Evil Dragon Claw skill to attack, his power was closer to an eighth-level Hunt Expert.
Bas could surpass nearly an entire minor rank to fight unless he encountered a genius. However, how would he find a genius in the Mortalee? The most he may find is a diamond in the dust, and that was something to be cut and polished. It couldn't dazzle him now; it would just be a jewel to refine for his uses.
Bas would only need to worry about encountering a genius in the Hunter's Society. There, running into a genius, or even some lucky vagrant who mastered a powerful skill, was not uncommon. This was why he didn't mind being so arrogant. After all, he had to separate his personality from his alter ego, Bazzy Dagod.
It would be pointless if both identities behaved precisely the same. That wouldn't be a good disguise.
Bas wanted to keep a low profile lest something unfortunate befall his mother and sisters due to his carelessness. As a reincarnated pharaoh, Bas was far from naive. He knew well how evil the hunters of the world could be. Even the woman you fancy might suck out the essence of your life through a first kiss.
'What the hell kind of creature was that chick, anyway? Could she have been the mythical Celestial Class Blood Succubus?'
"You are not worthy!" boomed a mighty and bass-filled voice.
"You think anyone is dumb enough to be provoked by you? Challenge your way up if you're so confident!" said another calm but still powerful voice.