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Undead Beast Master: Living Solely for My Desires-Chapter 195: Round 13
Zaroth's beasts were far away from him, so that meant they wouldn't be able to provide support.
Or was this really the case?
While they would take too long to reach Zaroth, who was in a pinch, there was a way to make them appear right next to him much faster.
And that was by unsummoning them and then summoning them right next to him.
Of course, the process wasn't instant, so he was forced to take at least one attack.
Sadly, there wasn't much darkness around him, so he couldn't use Darkveil to strengthen his defense.
He also couldn't dodge as there wasn't time for that, so he was left with only one option.
His opponent was clearly aiming for his neck, so without hesitation, Zaroth moved his right arm and sacrificed it.
Losing an arm would be costly, but it would be much better than losing his neck. An arm can be reattached, but a neck most likely cannot.
His opponent's sword flashed through the air, and a second later, severed his arm clean off.
At that moment, Zaroth was thankful for the way humans were engineered. Usually, taking such a major wound would fill him with pain, making him unable to fight and clouding his judgment.
But because he was in a life-or-death situation, there was a lot of adrenaline going through his system.
So rather than feeling agonizing pain, he felt just a weak, dull pain. It was unpleasant, but easily ignored.
As such, the twisted smile didn't leave his face, and before his opponent could attack him again, a few sparks appeared, and a moment later, Hellweaver was next to the man.
Opening its jaws, the spider attacked without delay.
The man was forced to move the metal next to his arm, so he would be able to defend against the attack from the spider.
His attention was now solely focused on the giant creature, as such, he didn't notice that Silverfang and Nightshade were behind him as well.
Silverfang bit down on his leg, making him bleed, and Nightshade lunged toward the man's neck.
Out of instinct, the man protected his neck, but the same couldn't be said about his leg.
He was alone with Zaroth just a second ago, but now he was surrounded by three Rare-tier beasts.
Before he could even come up with a plan, Zaroth opened his mouth and let out a firebreath.
Seeing that there was no other way, the man willed the metal to move all around his body, protecting it.
In an instant, his whole body was covered by the metal, and the man attempted to move but couldn't, as the weight of the three Rare beasts was simply too much, and he was immobilized.
Zaroth, meanwhile, didn't stop his attack as his firebreath was continuing to heat up the metal that the man was using as armor.
'This is bad,' the man thought. While he was protected from any damage, the metal was slowly heating up, cooking him alive.
He could control metal, but if the entirety of it was being heated up, there wasn't much he could do.
He forced his muscles to move, and the beasts moved a little.
That was until the four unnamed wolves also jumped onto the man.
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With the added weight, he was pinned to the ground while Zaroth continued to rain down his firebreath attack.
Before, the metal had been the one that protected him, but due to the fact that Zaroth was heating it up, the man began to feel his skin burn from the temperature.
The moisture of his eyes began to disappear as a sickening scent hit his nostrils—this was the smell of his own body being cooked alive.
His heart rate increased as his mind raced, desperately trying to come up with a way to escape the dire situation. This wasn't just a fight anymore—it was a fight to the death.
The emperor would surely stop the match before anyone died, right?
A sweat formed on the man's forehead, only to disappear a second later as he realized that the emperor would most likely not intervene. He was on his own.
He knew he was going to die very soon, so he resolved to do whatever it took to take his opponent down with him.
Zaroth's heart ached with sharp pain as his mana core was becoming emptier and emptier. Very soon, his mana would disappear.
It took a lot out of him to command all of his beasts and at the same time attack with his firebreath indefinitely.
'Just a bit more!' he thought as he saw the metal that had turned into armor around his opponent get redder and redder—the man inside was surely cooking alive.
Zaroth was becoming impatient, as his attack would soon end. As such, he had to take a step or two to get closer.
Being closer meant that the firebreath would be more devastating for his opponent, meaning the man would lose sooner.
But Zaroth regretted getting too close, as a moment later, his opponent realized that while he needed to be protected from the front—being assaulted by Zaroth's firebreath and the weight of his beasts—his back was pinned to the ground, meaning he could move the metal from there and attack.
And this was just what he did.
The metal shifted, almost as if it were trembling, and before Zaroth could react, several metal spikes shot out in all directions.
Some missed their mark.
But some hit exactly where they should have.
Zaroth's left arm was pierced by one of the spikes.
So was his torso, preventing him from taking a step back.
But that wasn't even the most devastating attack.
One of the pillars that had shot from the armor had followed the hot flames of Zaroth's firebreath and entered his mouth.
Without any kind of resistance, it pierced through the back of his head, as his mouth was unable to close due to the fact that there was a metal pillar piercing it.
What did Zaroth feel in that moment?
He wasn't sure. He was thinking about something, but he didn't know what exactly.
His body was hurt—never in his life had he taken so much damage.
And the fact that he had just barely escaped being killed… if the pillar had hit just a bit higher, it would have pierced his brain, killing him on the spot.
But Zaroth didn't have time for pity as he noticed something.
It seemed that his opponent had overestimated how much metal he could use for his attack. As such, he had taken too much from his armor, and his face was left uncovered.
In that brief moment, Zaroth's eyes, which had begun to leak blood, met the eyes of his opponent.
They were dry, left without any kind of moisture. The man's skin was red—it had begun to cook a long time ago. Most likely, his blood was boiling from the temperature too.
Zaroth was hurt.
But so was his opponent.
Both of them were moments away from death, meaning that nobody could stop the match.
If they did stop it, there would be no winner.
So they were destined to fight until one of them killed the other.
Zaroth would have given the command for his beasts to attack, but it wasn't currently possible.
They had been busy keeping his opponent to the ground, meaning that Zaroth's firebreath had damaged them too.
Their bodies had long begun to melt, so they were useless at the moment.
So, trying to preserve as much mana as he could, Zaroth desummoned them.
He was now left alone with his opponent.
The cheers of the audience had long since stopped.
The emperor didn't move his gaze.
It was like the world stopped.
Everyone knew that the battle was too close to be stopped—one had to win, and one had to lose.
So today, one of the two was going to die.
Zaroth had killed before, but those were people he disliked—people he knew were evil, or at least thought of them that way.
What about this man, however?
He was just a student like him. He had done no wrong. For all Zaroth could know, he had no sin.
The man even reminded Zaroth of himself. They had the same hair color, and both had done their best to make the most of their class and blessing.
But Zaroth wasn't a fool. He knew that this wasn't the time to ponder on what was morally right or wrong.
This wasn't the time to think about what he desired.
As such, his eyes narrowed like a hunter.
And then Zaroth moved.