The Crowned Greed: Transmigrated into a Demonic Dragon

"What are we looking at exactly...?"

"...No idea."

Lightning danced around Fafnir’s figure as he escaped desperately from Adrian’s attacks.

Adrian followed him with a barrage of explosive punches, each leaving the ground in a more miserable condition every time Fafnir dodged successfully.

Fafnir couldn’t dodge all attacks successfully. Every once in a while, an attack would hit him with an impact that could have usually killed anyone.

In fact, they could have even killed him, as they always left him missing most of his body.

Adrian even showed a new attack that relied on punching the air to launch flaming punches that had the shape of a dog. Every punch possessed enough force to kill some Rank 2 immediately.

However, Fafnir simply escaped for long enough to regenerate his body like nothing ever happened.

The observers couldn’t believe their eyes.

"Did all the competitors... fight against these monsters expecting to win?"

"There was no hope to begin with... Shit, how are they both below 25!"

"Want something worse? Fafnir is either 16 or 17 according to the rumours. We’re witnessing a fresh awakener!"

The observers fell in shocked silence that was interrupted only by the sounds of Adrian’s attacks.

One of them was a wrathful machine that didn’t stop punching. The whole arena was now a land of lava. All the stable stone was melted by the heat and Adrian’s punches.

The second was an unkillable shadow that didn’t slow down or feel exhausted for even a second, and he landed two clean strikes to Adrian’s neck, though neither of them worked.

That wasn’t supposed to be how Rank 2 fought. That wasn’t supposed to be the strength of the rank 2 beings under the age of 25.

"Who do you think is going to win?" A woman asked while sweating heavily, not by the heat of the arena, as the barrier blocked it, but by the stress of trying to comprehend that sight.

A man covered his eyes. "I don’t know, but I’m barely able to see anything! That artificial sun is really something else!"

"True. I’m literally manipulating my eyes with my ability to see the light just to ignore the sun and see better."

"Hey, do it to me too!"

"Sure, but you’re going to pay a small price."

As some people started taking advantage of the light, others simply analyzed the fight with sharp eyes.

"Fafnir is losing."

"I don’t know about the limits of his healing or how he could survive the destruction of his core, but if it was easy and he was immortal, he wouldn’t be dodging the attacks and would rather take a few risks while ignoring the damage."

"Yeah, not doing that means his regeneration isn’t perfect. Maybe it’s draining him or there is a weakness."

"Sooner or later, an attack will eventually smoke him alive."

"I hope he gives up. Such a talent can’t die this early. That would be a great waste."

"Many nobles and even some academies wanted to reach him before this fight. Now that his true power is revealed, they’ll likely fight over him if he survives."

"Seriously?"

Most observers were already looking at Fafnir as if looking at dead meat. However, a few others caught something that changed their perception of this fight.

"War of attrition!" A woman shouted with a wide smile: "Look at his movements. It’s like he’s becoming faster and more durable!"

The observers whispered to each other while watching.

Fafnir lowered his head just in time before Adrian’s arm could destroy his head. Seizing the opportunity, he held Adrian’s arm with his two hands and four extra shadow hands.

Holding the arm firmly, he used it for support, lifted himself up, and landed a precise flying double kick to Adrian’s mask.

Unaffected by the punch, getting only a bleeding nose, Adrian grabbed one of Fafnir’s legs and threw him, slamming him into a wall.

Simultaneously, a stone spike rose from the wall and pierced Fafnir’s back, tearing through only half his back before it was stopped by the cloak.

It didn’t pierce completely through him.

Not this time.

Not like the first attack that left him hanging in the air.

"It’s... it’s either one getting stronger or one getting weaker."

A man’s eyes sparkled with enlightenment as he asked: "Do you remember what he did to some of his opponents during the first stage? Fafnir, of course."

The observers racked their minds until one of them remembered.

"He... he absorbed their vitality...?"

An observer’s eyes gleamed: "The Shadow Aspect can absorb vitality!"

This time, the speaker was the narrator, controlling his voice to reach only the observers as he explained excitedly: "Ladies and gentlemen, you’re witnessing a real war of attrition!"

"The champion Adrian is getting weaker, using his mana and spiritual energy recklessly, and smashing everything without a mind. Fafnir, however, is taking everything slowly."

"He’s only dodging, using small amounts of mana and spiritual energy, and when he attacks, he attacks with direct physical contact! He’s been doing this since the beginning of the fight without anyone noticing!"

The observers recalled the beginning of the fight.

When he was attacked at the start, he did something that seemed pretty useless and more like a wasted opportunity.

Instead of using a surprise attack... he created a dozen hands to hold Adrian.

Not swords, not projectiles, not charging forward and delivering a swift attack, not one strong spell, not even attempting to escape.

He just used hands.

Hands.

The same thing he used to absorb vitality!

"He kept doing this repeatedly!"

When Fafnir landed the second sword strike to Adrian’s neck, he did the same thing, materializing shadow hands that held Adrian’s head.

And when Adrian pierced Fafnir’s stomach, Fafnir’s first reaction was holding Adrian’s head.

And just now, only to deliver a weak flying kick to the head, Fafnir held Adrian’s arm.

Over and over and over and over, Fafnir never stopped maintaining physical contact.

The artificial sun that had been weakening him was becoming weaker over time.

Fafnir’s physical strength was increasing.

And Adrian himself weakened by a tiny amount.

"If it continues like this, Fafnir could be the winner!"

The excitement in the arena went over the moon. Everyone watched the fight with a different light now that they knew the truth.

To win, Adrian would have to kill Fafnir as quickly as possible.

To win, Fafnir would have to continue absorbing more of Adrian’s vitality until the gap between them becomes balanced.

There were no other possibilities.

"Wait..."

A man stopped watching the fight and scanned the arena with visible confusion.

"Guys... what if neither of them wins?"

The people who heard him were confused for a moment before realizing what he meant.

"...Where is the clown?"