Deception
As Mika lay on the ground, he carefully observed Boro's movements, searching for an opportunity to turn the tide in his favor.
With a surge of determination, he swiftly closed the distance between them, maneuvering his body with agility and precision.
"Incredible! Look at Mika's determination! He's not backing down even from this disadvantageous position," the caster exclaimed, his voice filled with awe and excitement.
"He's calculating his next move!"
In a display of fluidity and control, Mika wrapped his legs around one of Boro's, effectively trapping it.
With a sudden shift of his hips and a firm grip on Boro's arm and neck, he applied leverage, putting pressure on his opponent's joints.
"The tables have turned! Mika has expertly caught Boro in a tight hold. It's a test of strength and technique now!" the caster exclaimed, his words echoing through the arena.
'One... Two... Three...'
Boro winced in discomfort, his attempts to break free proving futile against Mika's technique.
The crowd watched in awe, their anticipation building as they witnessed the skill displayed by the hooded fighter.
"Mika's control is impeccable! Boro is struggling, but Mika's grip is unwavering," the caster remarked, his voice tinged with excitement.
"The crowd is on the edge of their seats!"
Every subtle adjustment and twist of Mika's body worked together harmoniously, amplifying the pressure on Boro's limb.
"Fuck, how can this skinny kid hold me down?" Boro grunted in frustration.
'Nine... Ten... Eleven...'
The atmosphere in the arena crackled with tension as Mika exerted control over Boro's trapped limb.
"Mika's technique is flawless! He's utilizing every ounce of his skill to keep Boro locked down," the caster exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. "This is the mark of a true fighter!"
Boro's face contorted with strain, his breaths coming in labored gasps.
Mika's technique had taken its toll, leaving Boro vulnerable and struggling to escape the predicament he found himself in.
"The pressure is relentless! Boro is visibly feeling the effects of Mika's hold," the caster noted, his voice reflecting the intensity of the moment.
"Can Boro find a way out, or is this the end for him?"
The spectators held their breath, their eyes fixed on the unfolding struggle.
'Sixteen... Seventeen... Eighteen...'
Mika's focus remained unbroken as he channeled every ounce of determination into maintaining his dominance, inching closer to a well-deserved victory.
"Can he secure the victory from this position?"
The audience erupted into cheers, their admiration for the underdog fighter growing with each passing second.
Mika's body trembled with exertion, his muscles strained yet resolute.
"Mika is defying all expectations! The crowd is going wild for this incredible display of skill and tenacity," the caster declared, his voice filled with fervor. "Will he emerge victorious? It's a moment of truth!"
'Twenty-four... Twenty-five... Twenty-six...'
As Mika's technique persisted, Boro's resistance dwindled, his body unable to endure the relentless pressure.
Overwhelmed, he finally succumbed to unconsciousness, his form limp on the ground.
"The crowd erupts! Mika has done it! Boro is out cold, and Mika emerges triumphant!" the caster shouted, his voice echoing through the arena, drowned out by the deafening roar of the crowd.
'Thirty-two.'
Mika released his hold, his chest heaving with exhaustion and victory.
The spectators erupted into thunderous applause, their cheers resonating throughout the arena, a testament to their awe and admiration for the hooded fighter's remarkable feat.
Amidst the celebration, Mika rose from the ground, his body still trembling with the remnants of the intense struggle.
He stood tall, the embodiment of resilience and perseverance, as the crowd showered him with adoration and respect.
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The caster's voice reverberated through the arena, his words carrying the weight of the final bout.
"Ladies and gentlemen, bear witness to the emergence of a true warrior! Against all odds, Mika, the underdog, has triumphed! And now, who among you dares to challenge the enigmatic figure in the black hood?"
As the crowd buzzed with anticipation, a long queue of fighters awaited their turn in the arena, while Boro's body was carried away for a mandatory check-up.
Mika, catching his breath amidst the commotion, muttered to himself, "It's going to be a long day..."
The Adventurer Rank XP notifications continued to flood his vision, one after another, each rewarding him.
The repeated increments filled him with a sense of accomplishment and progress.
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Amidst the continuous stream of victories, the caster's voice boomed, declaring, "This marks the 19th duel! From human to centaur, Mika has tamed them all!"
'Jesus Christ, this is so exhausting,' Mika muttered, feeling the weight of fatigue settling upon him.
'It's almost 1 PM. I should rest soon,' Mika said to himself as he unconsciously counted every second since he had been in the arena.
While Mika pushed himself to the limits, testing his endurance in the arena, Airi remained oblivious to the chaos around her, soundly asleep in the spectator seat.
Her peaceful slumber offered a stark contrast to the fierce battles taking place.
The caster's voice boomed, breaking the momentary silence. "So, my friends, are there any more challengers?" he inquired, scanning the crowd.
A spectator raised his hand, catching the caster's attention.
"Ah, you there! Another warrior in a black hood. Join us on the west side of the arena!"
Mika's senses heightened as he listened to the caster's words.
'I sense a female.'
A spark of anticipation ignited within him.
"Make your way to the arena, my mysterious regular," the caster beckoned.
"But remember, do not take your opponent's life."
A buzz of recognition swept through the spectators. "Isn't she the reigning champion, undefeated for a year?" one exclaimed.
"The victor of the 127th Wyvern War?" another added, awe evident in their voice.
"Yes, that's her," someone confirmed, their voices blending together.
'Ah, yes! A fine addition to my harem.'
Mika smiled with a hint of amusement, envisioning the possibilities that awaited him.
"Whenever you're both ready, you can tag each other's card," the caster announced.
Mika, eager to get the duel underway, spoke with a hint of urgency, extending his card toward her.
"Let's make this quick," he said, his tone filled with determination.
Unbeknownst to her, Mika's thoughts took a playful turn, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"I might 'accidentally' touch your breast," he whispered to himself, relishing in the potential mischief.
As he observed her, a small grin tugged at the corner of her lips, hinting at her own hidden amusement.
With a swift motion, she tagged her card to his.
The caster's voice resonated through the arena, commanding attention.
"DUEL BEGIN!" he declared, signaling the start of their intense confrontation.
Without hesitation, Mika swiftly dropped to the floor, lying on his back, much to the dismay of the onlookers.
"Boo! Not this trick again!" one voice mocked.
"Coward!" another jeered.
"One-trick pony!" a third voice chimed in, their taunts echoing in the arena.
Unfazed by the comments, Mika's mind wandered, his thoughts taking an unexpected turn.
'She's about 177cm tall, and maybe around 66.4kg?' he mused to himself, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
'I would love to strangle her,' he whispered, indulging in his own dark fantasies.
However, to his surprise, a sound reached his ears—a laugh.
Intrigued, Mika questioned his observations.
'Huh? She laughed?' he thought, his attention shifting to her reaction.
In an instant, the mysterious regular transformed into a shadowy figure, vanishing from sight, only to reappear above Mika.
"MY! OH MY! WHAT IS THIS EROTIC POSITION?" the caster exclaimed, his voice laced with amusement and a touch of scandal.
A wave of curiosity washed over the spectators as the caster's words lingered in the air.
Suddenly, a strange and unsettling occurrence unfolded, capturing the attention of all present.
As if ensnared by an unseen enchantment, every male spectator found themselves trapped in a peculiar state.
Their hands, almost as if guided by an invisible force, gravitated towards their waist, engaging in a repeated motion.
'Good grief, are they engaging in masturbation?'