"The youth used his finger as a sword and sliced off a large chunk of flesh from his left arm, blood flowing freely."
"He then broke the little finger on his left hand and threw it along with the flesh in front of the grave."
"He loudly said, 'Today I return bones to my father and flesh to my mother, and from now on, I sever all ties with you.'
'As for this vendetta of annihilating my family, it's better you seek someone more capable. Farewell!'"
"Having said that, the youth sprinted away."
...
The arena fell into an eerie silence.
Despite being barely human-shaped, the novelist's face was full of great confusion.
What the hell did I write?
This thought crossed the minds of all the novelists present.
But weirdly enough, it made me take another look.
Finally, after the first novelist applauded, scattered applause began to sound throughout the arena.
The applause was initially hesitant but soon merged into a raucous sea.
