A shiver climbs up my spine, the look of my opponent still maddened but at the same time, he seems to have found some sign of clarity in this disturbing thought process of his.

He pulls at the chain binding his left arm, pulling me towards him with a strength that he seems to have kept hidden. Insects crawl on the chain to make their way towards me, I burn the chain with blood-infused fire. Actively burning both our arms, the feeling of my skin peeling off because of the fire is agonizing. However, I can't risk the chain becoming a weakness, so I rather suffer than lose my life because of my own trick.

I crash to the ground as he manages to pull me from the air, his rotten teeth showing through his creepy smile. Many feelings are clouding my mind: Anticipation, dread, annoyance, expectation, joy, hatred. My mind has always been a tricky thing once I battle. The fights give me an ecstasy that I've longed for, the blood pumping not merely for the sake of being alive, but rather because I'm actually living. Not just an empty shell waiting for time to pass until the inevitable happens, not a young kid praying every day that a miracle might happen, not someone who has to watch yet cannot play the game called life.

Then again, this feeling of being alive does not solely decide the enjoyment I feel when I battle, I've fought opponents that I liked and opponents that I hated. The intensity and playfulness are generally dictated by those emotions. For this battle, it seems I've also come to a conclusion.

"I hate you." I mutter, feeling the sensation called rage overwhelm my senses.

I pull the burning chain that binds us together, pulling him in close to me as I bathe him in the dark red flames created from the combination of my blood and fire magic. All the insects that try to rush towards me in a counterattack immediately perish, only the dying insects disturb the uneasy silence that now hangs over the arena.

His regeneration is stronger than I expected, the insects reproduce and die at a speed that's nearly impossible. Their corpses infusing with the damaged parts of the body before being burned off and getting replaced by another corpse.

He hasn't managed to move yet, perhaps he's unable to because of my fire, or perhaps he's not mentally sound enough to attack me at this moment. Either way, I use this opportunity to set ablaze my other chain and bind him with the second. The skin on my arm getting singed by the chains in their inferno.

'It would have been a lot easier if I could just attack his soul and destroy that, but he's hollow. He's closer to just an existing pile of insects and bones than to an actual living being.'

Trying to actively keep my opponent bound, I feel that the chains loosen. It's as if they don't have anything to hold them anymore. A bone hand comes out of the dark red flames, an ominous black magic surrounds the hand. I jump back, trying to dodge this sudden lunge. Alas, I'm too late as the old man manages to grab my left arm. Using my still summoned blood-bound spear, I slash the arm, cutting it loose from the old man's body.

I jump backward, creating some distance. Looking down at my left arm, I can see a black imprint on my arm. The black imprints start to spread, looking to infect my entire body. I try to move my left arm, but it has been tainted too much already.

'Dammit! Is this rot magic? It doesn't seem like I can get rid of it like poison.' I think, trying to keep myself calm in this dire situation. The imprint doesn't stop spreading however seemingly eager to swallow my complete body.

Looking at the imminent death with pained eyes, I make a rash decision. Ripping a piece of my black shirt, I put it in my mouth as I raise my blood-bound spear with my right hand. My hand trembles slightly, knowing that this will be incredibly painful.

The rot magic has almost completely consumed my left arm, only the shoulder not yet afflicted. Biting down on the black piece of cloth, I cut my left arm off in one strike.

The pain is absolutely agonizing, I don't know which one's worse, the pure physical pain or the mental pain of realizing that I just had to cut off my own arm.

The possibility of losing consciousness looks rather tempting right now. Well, at least if I wasn't still in a godforsaken duel or that the pain and shock of losing my arm was making it rather difficult

I try to look at my opponent, my eyes still squinting from the relentless pain I feel. He looks rather satisfied which is terrifying. Then again, he himself doesn't look in good shape either. The amount of insects has dwindled down and some patches of his body remain unhealed, some are even still being burned by the dark red flames that I spew out.

"You don't look too good, old timer." I call out towards my opponent as I throw away the rotten chains.

"HAHAHA!!"

The old man laughs, seemingly amused with my taunt.

"Even in this state, you still have that look on you. Good… Very good." He says his laughter having transformed to a lower chuckle.

Using this little "break", I look towards my shoulder. My regeneration isn't capable of restoring my arm, but at least it does seem to be able to stop me from bleeding out.

'Well, this doesn't look too good. Guess it's all or nothing now.' I think, seeing no other way out of this mess.

"I'm going to get a beating from Ashmodai later. But I guess that's better than being a cold corpse." I say in a calm voice that manages to silence my opponent and his annoying laughter.

"It's your fault. You shouldn't have taught me how to gamble."