Training was a fun process. The ripping of muscle fibres to enable oneself to a higher level of strength, was also one of the joys Azazel experienced.
And for his training, he deemed the growth of twitch muscle fibres the most important. This would bolster his explosive power greatly.
Although, he did not forget to prioritise training basic movements for his foundation. Punches, kicks, they were all practiced, each having his 100% focus.
'I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who had practiced one kick 10,000 times.'
Days continued to pass, as Azazel indulged in his training. He did not try to grow much muscle, as the food given was barely sustainable for promoting such growth.
Throughout these passed days, Azazel confirmed that the Hanma bloodline essentially moulded the bodies growth for battle.
He would not have to worry about unnecessary muscle growth, hindering his movements. This would have been a problem, as most, even if unwanted, grew muscle that was not especially needed.
It also meant, that he would not have a problem training purely for dense muscle.
Azazel had also been given a reward for his battle, perhaps because the celestial dragon, Dustin, had been happy with his performance.
The turnaround from constant loss, had definitely been a factor in this choice, and seeing how his last opponent, 'The Swordmaster' had a shiny, clean sword. It was likely rewards were due after certain fights.
An advantage that Azazel would reap the most out of.
But for now he did not ask much. If he had happened to unknowingly overstep his bounds, punishment was likely.
The celestial dragons spared nobody, for the littlest of mistakes or annoyances. Therefore, all he asked was for a pull up bar to be installed.
But who would spare so much effort on a slave?
They chucked a metal bar onto the ground, and said nothing more.
"You know the drill. Hurry up!" The guard came once again.
Azazel came closer, prompting his hands outward.
"You're unlucky slave." The guard said, clicking the cuffs tight around his hands, "Your win has made the Lords excited."
'Fuck. Again?' Azazel showed no change, but inwardly prepared. An unexpected situation, but such things seemed to be happening constantly here. Anyways, it was nothing he couldn't adapt to.
Leading him to the gate of the arena, another guard was waiting. Behind him another slave, likely joining Azazel inside the arena.
"Mighty Lords! Today we have a special free for all! 4 contestants, all against each other!" The booming voice of the announcer, alerted the celestial dragons into making their bets.
One by one the contestants were lead inside, "First! We have Phantom! Slave of Lord, Saint Brown!"
A slim figure, sized around 5ft 11 made his way forward. A dagger in hand, fitted with light clothing. A figure Azazel would have to watch out for.
'A likely speed build. He seems like one to sneak behind, while watching us all fight.'
"Next! We have Asura! Slave of Lord, Saint Dustin!" Onto the stage Azazel crept. His body loose, but ready to explode whenever needed.
"Third! We have Titan! Slave of Lord, Saint Grendel!" The heavy footsteps of a 7ft behemoth resounded through the arena.
The bulky figure of a giant made his way into the light. With no weapon in hand, he scoured the surroundings, grinning as he saw the other two contestants.
"Finally! We have Wolf! Slave of Lord, Saint Dennis! A holder of the devil fruit that allows him to turn into a snow wolf!"
'Shit. This is bad. A devil fruit user, that most likely specialises in speed.' Azazel stared at the wild looking man. He had a sharp demeanour befitting of his title.
The fighters rushed into battle. The Titan instantly going for the one he thought most dangerous, the Wolf. All the others were like little kids in his eyes.
"ARRGH!" With a loud scream, he swung his fist downwards, aiming for his opponent. But with his slow punch, he missed.
The stage cracked, and he continued to chase around swinging punches, seemingly excited.
Azazel stood away from the battle, observing the Phantom.
'The most dangerous person is the one who listens, thinks and observes.' He thought. Bruce Lee's sayings were akin to the highest truth for Azazel, and it proved to be correct.
With a swift dash, the Phantom rushed the Titan, jumping onto his back, slightly crouched, and cleanly slit his neck.
Blood spurted onto the ground and the celestial dragons cheered.
But the spitting of blood did nothing to stop the Titan, who shortly after, huffed, and switched targets to the Phantom, in a rage.
But alas, a snow white wolf, jumped toward the Titan's back side of his neck, tearing a large slab of flesh out violently.
"Y-you, bastards." The Titan dropped to his knees, barely getting his last words out, and his limp body rammed the ground, leaving three contestants left.
'That was fast.' Azazel was barely able to see the Wolf's figure as it cleanly arrived at its target. It seemed he would have to watch his back for any attacks, for he was going to take out the Phantom first.
Rushing forward at his target, he focused as much as he could on dodging this first attack. Without a weapon, he didn't believe that the Phantom could do much.
A short whiff of air impacted the previous position of Azazel's neck, as he made the maneuverer to the side of his opponent.
Raising his hands, he feinted a punch, prompting the Phantom to step back, losing his stance.
He then ducked under, using his hand on the ground he raised his leg upwards, kicking the arm of the Phantom with as much force as he could.
The insane amount of torque and spin in the attack, using his hand and body to twist, would generate an unimaginable amount of force into the attack.
This caused the dagger to fly out of his hand, and almost break the bones of the impacted area.
Hearing the clattering of steps behind him, Azazel propelled himself off the ground using his hands and feet, sending him mid-air horizontally.
As he flipped, facing the ground, he saw a white wolf, with its razor like teeth, biting the air.
Wasting no time, he used the momentum he had going toward the ground, to send a jaw breaking punch, directly into the spine of the animal.
The wolf screamed, as it flailed, just managing to jump away, shortly after turning back into a man.
"SHIT! You fuckface, you nearly bro-" A clean blade slit the mans throat, in similar fashion to the Titan.
The man had clearly forgot he was in a three way fight, and decided to focus all his attention on Azazel.
The Phantom took the opportunity to get rid of another opponent.
At this point the alarming noises of the celestial dragons shouting, were blurred out by intense focus.
'Not a wise move. His anger was grounded onto me. He could have even seriously hurt me.' Azazel was not unhappy. But surprised that the Phantom had made such stupid judgement. He was disabled in one hand, and now had to fight against the person who did that to him.
He could have easily waited. But perhaps it was because he thought the Wolf was still a harder opponent.
Ready in his stance, Azazel awaited his opponents move.