Pain laced through my body in more places than I cared to count.
My left leg could barely support my weight anymore, my back screamed in agony every time I tried to move, and each breath I took burned like there was a fire in my lungs.
My chest was tight, and I had lost most of the sensation in my right forearm — which felt like it was being roasted over an open flame.
That guy — Calem, was it? — had an exceptionally irritating innate ability.
Wounds inflicted by his sword didn't just hurt. They burned.
If he'd landed a few more slashes, the pain might've been unbearable.
Worst of all, I was still bleeding.
Some wounds soaked through my clothes, others leaked sluggishly, but I could feel the continuous blood loss leaving me lightheaded, even while sitting.
Maybe I had underestimated my opponents a little.
They were strong.
Well, obviously.
They were just below the Top Ten in rankings.