The next group of battles had already begun by the time Akaza returned.
Simon watched them briefly with his arms folded. On one stage, a demon was being chased by dozens of water needles. On another, two Supreme Archfiends exchanged blows so violently that blood sprayed with every collision. The officials recorded victories, injuries, and deaths with the same indifferent and cold expressions.
Simon shifted his gaze toward Akaza.
"Why didn't you use your ability?"
Akaza looked at the shallow cuts on his arms and the blood running down his calf.
"I wanted to see how I would do without it."
Simon nodded and said nothing.
Internally, however, he thought the decision was foolish.
Akaza had won one match, but he still needed another victory to pass. His wounds were shallow and would not stop him from fighting, but they would still affect him. A slight pain when stepping on the injured leg or a delayed movement could become dangerous against the wrong opponent.
