The crowd was in awe as the new challenger made his entrance. Bas King had a confident presence that commanded attention. The crowd could see he was different from everyone who had challenged the champion before him. There was a certain arrogance in his step and a certain confidence in his aura, making him stand out from the rest. It was clear that he was not just any ordinary hunter.
As Bas took his position in the center of the ring, the new champion made his way to meet him. Frederick Little was his name, the new champion of the underground. He had a muscular build, and his broadsword was strapped to his back. Bas had heard that he was proficient in using the broadsword and could sense that he had an advanced bronze-grade hunt record.
As far as sewer hunters went, Bas found this a bit impressive.
As the crowd cheered and hollered, Frederick Little emerged from the shadows, his broadsword glimmering in the dim lights of the sewers. He had heard of Bas King's rise to the top and was eager to put the young upstart in his place. Little had spent years perfecting his sword skills and had become a master of the bronze-grade hunt skill related to blades. His strength, agility, and constitution were unmatched, and he was confident that he would easily defeat this new challenger.
But as he entered the ring and locked eyes with Bas King, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was something different about this boy, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Was it his confidence? His unwavering determination?
Frederick smirked as he walked over to Bas, "So you're the new challenger, huh? What makes you think you can take this belt from me?"
Bas looked up, his eyes meeting Frederick's. "Because I'm King and the strongest hunter in the underground. And I don't plan on losing."
The crowd cheered as the two hunters faced off against each other. Bas could feel the excitement in the air, the crowd's energy fueling his ryms. Bas didn't care for banter during fights, but some pre-match trashtalk never hurt anyone.
At least not directly.
Bas' opponent stood tall and confident, his muscles rippling under his tight leather armor. He had heard about this challenger, this Bas King, and was curious to see what he was made of.
"You really think you can beat me, boy? I heard you've got some fancy tricks up your sleeve, but let me tell you something: I've been training since I was old enough to hold a sword. I've got skills you couldn't even imagine," Frederick boasted, sneering at Bas.
Bas didn't flinch. He had faced tougher opponents than this before. "Don't sell yourself short, champ. I'm sure you're a skilled fighter. But skill alone won't win you this fight. You see, I have something you don't: outer ryms."
Since Bas had already exposed his innate death ryms during his fight with Francis, he didn't mind exposing more.
Frederick raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Innate black ryms, huh? You must be pretty powerful, then. Let's see what you've got, King."
A Fourth Class referee jumped down into the cage at this moment. He held up his right arm before loudly blowing a whistle.
"Fifth Class Champion, Frederick Little vs. Ranked 1st Bazzy Dagod. Fight start!"
Bas grinned. "Gladly." With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a stream of black energy from his fingertips. The crowd gasped as they saw the power of his outer ryms on full display. Frederick stepped back, his eyes widening in surprise.
But Bas wasn't done just yet. He channeled his inner ryms and focused them into his right fist. The air around him crackled with what looked like black electricity, and a bolt of black ryms shot towards Frederick.
The other hunter barely dodged the attack, his armor smoking from the near miss. The corrosive ability of those ryms was terrifying.
Frederick's confidence wavered as he saw just how much power Bas had at his disposal. He had heard the rumors about the young fighter's strength, but to witness it firsthand was a whole other story. But he refused to back down. He charged forward, wielding his sword with precision.
Bas met him head-on, parrying each strike with ease. He ducked under Frederick's blade and quickly kicked the other hunter's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Frederick stumbled backward but promptly regained his footing.
Bas launched himself at Frederick, his fists glowing with black ryms. He aimed for the hunter's stomach, but Frederick was already on him, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Bas dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade. He could feel the wind rushing past him, the sound of metal slicing through the air.
'Close,' Bas thought, realizing this champ packed enough punch to be a deadly threat.
Too bad the latter's skill couldn't even compare. Bas may be a Fifth Class hunter, but his ability index was in no way so simple.
Suddenly, Frederick lunged forward, his sword poised to strike. Bas reacted instinctively, flipping backward and avoiding the blow by mere inches. He landed on his feet in a crouch, deftly unleashing the butterfly knife from its cover and instantly activating its switchblade function, ready for the next attack.
Bas grinned, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath, focusing his energy on his outer ryms. The black mist began to swirl around him, wrapping him in a shroud of darkness.
Frederick watched in awe as Bas's aura grew darker and more intense. He had never seen anything like it before.
Bas lunged at his opponent without warning, his fists glowing with his innate death ryms. Frederick barely had time to react before Bas landed a decisive blow to his jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. Bas wasted no time as he wielded his blades in tyrannic fashion, lacerating both of the champion's legs and leaving a bloody gash on Little's torso before he even landed.
"ARGHH!!!" Little bellowed in pain as his blood painted the stage.
He quickly used his arms to propel himself to his feet, swinging his sword incredibly fast in a 360-degree whirlwind, repelling the incoming Bas, who swiftly dropped back several feet.
Bas grinned, feeling the familiar rush of energy as he tapped into his outer ryms. He could feel the power coursing through his veins, ready to be unleashed.
The two fighters circled each other warily, each waiting for the other to make a move. Bas saw an opening and lunged forward, aiming a punch for Frederick's throat. But the other hunter managed to deflect the punch but saw two blades surrounded by black ryms aiming towards his neck and ribs.
Dodge!
With a swift movement, he dropped backward with his knees, showing excellent flexibility that startled Bas. Frederick bounced back up once the blades passed and charged at Bas, his sword flashing as if in the sunlight.
'Here it comes!' Bas knew the Primary Bronze hunt skill was finally making its appearance.
This was the ability that struck down the previously ranked 1st. Bas was unsurprised to see it was a Swordhunt Record. After all, Frederick's swordsmanship wasn't too bad. But he soon frowned. The shining gleam on Frederick's sword intensified as he leaped into the air with his sword pointing directly at the sky. Sensing the fiercely growing momentum of his opponent, Bas reaches a startling conclusion.
This skill was indeed only trained to the primary bronze level, but the speed it gathered ryms was at the silver level! This was a silver-grade bladehunt skill! Bas suddenly felt lucky Frederick had only trained to the lower tier bronze level. This skill was deadly, an absolute kill if it landed on anyone in the Fifth Class.
Bas locked his spiritual perception onto the champion, analyzing every aspect of his skill utilization.
"Sky Devil's Divine Blade!"