"Shit!" Bas King felt the killing intent bursting from this old man, and he could hear the ryms of death. This was a spiritual indication that this old fogy's attack was vicious enough to end his little life.
"Like hell, I'll let you!"
Bas closed his eyes and concentrated intensely.
Time seemed to be still, his surroundings slowly coming to a halt. This was a deep state of focus that could only be achieved by peak deity-level beings. Bas suddenly gripped his butterfly knife in one hand and slashed out three blades with all his strength, his left arm shining with iridescent light that transformed into a dangerous-looking five-bladed claw.
"Evil Dragon's Claw!"
Bang!
The blades collided, and Bas flew into the battle cage barrier. The impact on his back forced him to cough out blood.
Edgar wasn't much better as he released an agonizing shout. The attack chopped his left hand off, and three gashes ran up his right arm. If Edgar hadn't been using his hunter rifle, he feared his entire arm would have been shredded. Even worse, the black ryms of Bas seeped into his arm and sapped his vital ryms! The life force in his left arm was being rapidly eroded.
"Fuck!" Edgar screamed as he immediately recognized this sensation. The same feeling led to him wasting away in Mortalee for so many years. "Innate death ryms! This bastard had innate death ryms!"
Moreover, weren't these death ryms far too tyrannical? Wasn't this Bazzy just a Fifth Class hunter?
"You will need to cut off that arm, good friend," Sid Evan's voice appeared next to the still-reeling Edgar Stratus. Edgar glanced up, nearly hysterical, only to see Sid's cold and emotionless gaze.
Edgar suddenly realized there would be no sympathy for his nephew, whom a superior hunter had killed in a fair contest. Sid being within the battle cage right now was only to suppress Edgar, and there could be no other reason.
Edgar grits his teeth and turns to use the blade of his rifle to sever his now purple-ish arm before the death rym corrosion spreads any further. Edgar gnashed his teeth after enduring this trial, wanting nothing more than to chew on the flesh and suck on the bones of Bazzy Dagod, who Brenda was currently supporting.
Brenda's pale face was colored only by concern. There was heavy emotion in her eyes, although what that emotion was exactly remained uncertain.
Initially, Sid was worried he reacted too late and thus lost two geniuses in one fight. However, to Sid's shock, he didn't need to worry so much.
Although obviously injured, Bazzy Dagod had apparently held back much power.
That claw-like hunter skill possessed the aura of Max Wood Class, which could boost stats by up to 10 points, but the strength of Bazzy's hunter skill wasn't quite so simple! In that one instant, Bazzy's force approached the level of Sid's might. This was incredible for a mortal and amazing even for a hunter from the Hunter's Society. Bazzy was an extraordinary genius, but one question remained: why was he in Mortalee?
Sid would have to be an idiot to think Bazzy was born here.
"The winner of this contest is Rank 3rd: Bazzy Dagod!" Sid personally announced to the crowd.
Edgar was so angry that he coughed out a vat of blood and nearly collapsed on the spot.
Bas sneered, his arm coiled around the fragrant waist of this beautiful woman supporting him as they approached Sid Evans. They looked like two lovers embracing and not an injured man being supported.
Bas suddenly removed himself from Brenda's grip, much to her surprise, and steadied himself on his feet. Brenda was intrigued, as most men would milk this opportunity to be cradled by beauty, yet Bas had his pride. Bas spread his arms out and held his head high in the sky.
"WOOOOOOAAAAAHHHHHH!"
The crowd went wild with excitement. Francis Stratus killed many opponents, but even those who defeated him didn't dare to kill or cripple him. Because Edgar Stratus wasn't merely Francis' uncle, he was a previous champion of the Fourth Class. No one wanted to antagonize this man.
At least, no one did until this Bazzy Dagod showed up! This was a character that put absolutely no one in his eyes. He climbed more than 100 ranks in mere hours, breaking every record to ever exist in this underground sewage outlet. He was challenged by the third-rank hunter and won in such a domineering fashion. Not only that, but his strength was only at Eighth Level Hunt Foundation, Fifth Class.
What kind of madness was this?
Brenda frowned when she saw the first man she had ever touched of her own volition remove himself from her to showboat in front of a crowd. Was this more appealing than her nurturing touch? She felt dissatisfied.
Meanwhile, Sid couldn't help but smirk when he saw his daughter's expression.
'She must like this brat? Well, even I like this brat.'
The kid earned this glory with his own two hands. He defended it with his entire body on the line and came out ahead! Was it possible that he wouldn't want to bask in it after facing death once?
Sid felt the boy's action also showed him the appropriate amount of respect. After all, Brenda was Sid's daughter. Most guys pursuing her would end up beaten by Sid, but this youngster had tact. He liked this Bazzy more and more as time passed.
"As a reward for your incredible achievements, I will award you 15 gold credits."
Bas' eyes brightened considerably. What kind of a generous old fogy was this guy? He's not the jerk Bas expected him to be.
Of course, this was the preferential treatment one would naturally receive as a talented prospect. It was likely not reflective of Sid's true personality. With such an amiable and loyal daughter, this older man couldn't be so bad either.
Right?
"In addition, you will be given the right to challenge the Fifth Class champion," Sid rubbed his beard stubble as he scrutinized this Bazzy Dagod. This kid's face was like a block of solid ice. Sid simply couldn't read his emotions at all. He sighed and said, "Although you have yet to use your ten challenges, you are injured. It is time for you to depart from the stage."
"Yes," nodded Bas. He had already achieved today's objectives, at any rate. Right as he wanted to leave, a thought occurred. Thus, he turned to ask Mr. Evans, "Sir, may I inquire where I can upgrade my token?"
The teenager who initially issued Bas' ticket, Eric, told Bas he could rank up his token after ten successful fights. Now, Bas had over ten victories.
Sid was just about to depart from the area when he looked down, surprised, "I can give you the upgrade now. Tell me, where's your token?"
Bas handed over the bronze token, much to Sid's shock.
Bronze?
But shouldn't it logically be white or wood?
"Where did you get this, boy?" asked Sid Evans imperiously.
This boy was already an enigma. He couldn't afford any more secrets to slip past him.
"Eric, at the front counter," replied Bas innocently. He had nothing to hide at all. "He made a mistake and compensated me with this bronze token."
"E..ric?" Sid Evans nodded his head, but in his heart, he was astounded.
They didn't have any teenage recruiter named Eric! In fact, how could a mere teenager earn himself a bronze token? Something was fishy here, but Sid wouldn't reveal anything to the clueless boy before him.
But who was Bas?
He immediately noticed that look of confusion on Sid's face. Sure enough, when he used his perception to trace Eric's atmosphere, it had completely vanished.
'Eh? Gone? Why would he...'
"Here."
Sid produced a silver token, which proceeded to devour the bronze token of Bas. He then flicked the token to Bas, who caught it in excitement. This was a hunter tool that could conceal his ryms! How great was that?