(30 Days Later, The Time-Stilled World, Leo’s POV)
*Pant*
*Pant*
Leo’s breath came out heavy and uneven as he drew in air through his mouth, each inhale sounding coarse and raw inside the sealed chamber.
His hands were tied behind his back, his feet bound together by mana-thread rope, while his eyes and nose were both covered according to the handicap rules, as he was turned into something that looked more like a struggling prisoner than a warrior.
"Come on now," Leo said, his voice low but commanding, "don’t be shy. Come at me with everything you’ve got."
He encouraged, as across from him, his opponent hesitated.
This was his forty-first opponent of the day, a talented Master-Tier soldier in the army, who looked flabbergasted by the idea of facing the Shadow Dragon under such conditions.
"M-my Lord... are you sure you wish to do this?" the man asked, his tone caught between fear and guilt.
However, Leo simply tilted his head in response, his tone growing more impatient as he said, "Boy, I said, come at me already."
The command cracked through the silence like a whip.
*SWOOSH*
*SWOOSH*
The man obeyed, charging forward as his sword sliced through the air in quick succession.
*Dodge*
*Dodge*
Leo moved on instinct alone, tilting his head just enough for the first strike to whistle past his ear, then ducking sideways so that the second strike cut through the empty air where his shoulder had been a heartbeat ago.
His breathing stayed sharp, his movements precise, but his lack of sight left him at a constant disadvantage, as he was forced to rely just on sound.
For the first couple of days, he struggled extremely hard with fighting just based on sound, however, as the month progressed he became more and more proficient with it, with the current him being able to anticipate enemy attack patterns before they made them.
’Left foot forward... weight on the right... he’s changing angle,’ Leo thought, his brow tightening beneath the blindfold.
The opponent hesitated for half a second, nervous still, before he lunged again, as Leo twisted his torso to the right, but with his arms bound and feet tethered, his range of motion was crippled, as he failed to rotate enough.
*SPLASH*
The sword brushed past his shoulder, missing flesh, but not the small water pouch strapped across it, as the packet burst.
*Splatter*
A burst of cold trickled down his arm, as he gritted his teeth in anger.
’One down, if I lose another, I’ll lose this round—’
Leo thought, as his senses grew to maximum alert.
So far, after thirty days of fighting against weaker opponents, Leo had come to realize that they lacked the strength to inflict any real harm upon him, no matter how hard they tried.
Even when he restrained himself completely, binding his limbs and suppressing his ability to strike back, he could not diminish the natural toughness of his body, which always gave him an unfair advantage in battle.
Hence, to counter that imbalance, he devised a method that turned every fight into a delicate game of precision and restraint as he strapped two water pouches to his shoulders, one to his forehead, one to his neck, another to his chest, one across his stomach, and two each around his thighs and ankles, to make it ten in total.
The rule was simple: if his opponent managed to burst even two of them, he would lose the match instantly, and so with one of them already bursting, Leo immediately chewed his lip and grew alert.
*Scrunch*
*Scrunch*
The man pulled back again, his confidence beginning to grow as he realized that the fight was not as impossible as he had initially imagined.
"Im coming at you again—"
He declared as he shifted into a smoother rhythm, each step sharper than the last, his blade now cutting with precision rather than hesitation, as Leo struggled to keep up.
*SWOOSH*
*Dodge*
*SWOOSH*
*Dodge*
*HEADBUTT*
Leo dodged a couple attacks from his opponent, before lunging in for a headbutt to the chest to incapacitate him, however, much to his dismay, while he made contact with the man’s chest and managed to tackle him to the ground, the man’s failing arms still managed to catch the water pouch on his right shoulder, ending the fight in a draw.
*Splatter*
"Match forty-one... Draw. Count reset to zero," came the score keeper’s voice from beyond the arena boundary, as for a second, Leo laid still on the floor in silence, his chest rising and falling as sweat beads trickled down his jawline.
"MOTHERFU—"
He screamed in anger, his aura pulsing faintly at first, before then swelling outward like a silent scream as the bindings on his wrists disintegrated under the pressure, while the blindfold on his eyes tore away in two clean halves.
*Crack*
The floor beneath him fractured slightly as his frustration erupted from within.
"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO..." he muttered, his voice echoing across the chamber, sharp and guttural, filled with anger that had been brewing within him since his first loss 30 days ago.
He looked at the shattered floor, then at the faint ripples of red energy still coiling around his arms.
’Forty-one matches I fought today, only for the streak to end in such a stupid fashion.
Just how the hell am I supposed to reach a million like this?’
He wondered as he clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white against his own aura.
’A single slip of concentration and it all restarts... this isn’t training. This is torment disguised as wisdom.’
He took a long breath, the fury slowly dulling into a quiet, simmering determination as he lowered his gaze again.
’Still... it’s not like I have a choice.’
He remembered, as he got back up to his feet and gestured for the assistant to come in and bind him up again.
"Prepare the next opponent.... Reset the streak from zero"
He instructed, as he prepared his mind for a fresh wave of disappointment.