Destroyer of Ice and Fire

“Raging Rhino Punch!”

“Combo Kick!”

“Storm Palm!”

“...”

The fight between Moss and Rykiel had thoroughly degenerated into a show of sandbag punching.

To preserve arcane particles, Rykiel even stuck to bottom-level skills. Even so, Moss couldn't avoid any of them. He was already dizzy under the blows, and couldn't even tell left from right.

“You can still stand up? You're pretty resistant.”

“Just go down again!”

After Rykiel hit him another five or six times, Moss covered his face that no one could recognize anymore, and said, looking as though he was already half-conscious from the beating, “I concede. Or else I'll be injured if this goes on and I won't be able to participate in the next round.”

“You want to fight in the next rounds with that kind of level?”

At least half the people in the stands couldn't stop themselves from holding their bellies and laughing like madmen.

“What the hell, what kind of team is that?”

“They beat up their own teammate even before the match. They even have internal strife, they tell their own to hurry up and concede. Look, look,...