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Femi's laugh reverberated through the arena as his fists crashed into Dyon again and again.1
"Come on! Get up! Weren't you the real number one?! What's going on!?" Femi laughed, a rage permeating through his voice.
Anyone could tell that he was more angry about the slight against his name that he was about his sister dying. There was no question.
Blood flew from Dyon's face and body, coating Femi's fists. But, he didn't seem intent on stopped.
King Belmont and King Aumen watched from the air. Dyon had accepted this battle, so King Belmont didn't see it fit for him to intervene and King Aumen could hardly care about this battle any longer. What true great existence would accept such a pathetic disciple?
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