chapter 722 my goodness! what is happening to you?
most of the time, heroes would fall into a state where they fall unconscious, with their bodies moving on their own accord.
this was the miraculous power of heroes, allowing them to overcome the threats that were too difficult for them to deal with using their conscious powers.
seeing that his sword blade was stopped easily, clark tried to pull it back. however, roland had a vice grip on it, not budging an inch even after trying his hardest.
knowing that he had no other choice, clark once again unleashed the same white, powdery breath he had used in his first clash against his opponent.
this powder had a special effect of temporarily making those who were hit by it disoriented, buying clark a window of opportunity to make his move.
roland, who was unconscious, didn't even bother to dodge, allowing the breath attack to wash over his body.
the scion of the ashford clan then released his grip on the sword handle, then threw a kick toward the young man's waist.
however, clark's foot was caught by a hand, holding it in place.
just as clark was thinking of what he should do next, roland pulled his leg with incredible strength, lifting his opponent's body alongside it.
before he could even blink, the prodigy of the ashford clan found himself getting slammed onto the arena ground face first, unable to offer any kind of resistance.
a booming sound spread in the arena as clark hit the ground, creating a small crater.
all wanderers, especially those who had reached the rank of initiate and above, had bodies stronger than that of the normal person, making them very resistant to injuries.
clark was an initiate, and even then, the pain he felt was strong enough that he almost lost consciousness then and there.
he and his hosts had always been on the receiving end of such "miraculous powers," so he grew to hate it a lot.
the teenage boy watched as clark was taken away by the ashford clan, with claude personally flying down from the vip area to check on his son's condition.
after making sure that he was truly fine, he gave thirteen a glance.
a moment of hesitation appeared in claude's eyes, but a few seconds later, he gave the person he hated a brief nod, which thirteen returned with a nod of his own.
despite his hate for zion, claude knew that if the young man hadn't stepped in to stop roland from using clark's body like a sledgehammer on the arena, his son might have suffered injuries that would've been difficult to heal.
when both fighters had been cleared, several staff appeared in the arena and started to clean it for the next battle.
as the host, thirteen had no choice but to remain on the stage and start talking. his mood affected by roland's plot armor, he was no longer as enthusiastic and left the majority of the commentary to pica and pico, which made the audience love the two funny birds who easily drew everyone's attention.
a few hours later, six battles were finished, ending the first round for group 1.
six wanderers remained, and they would fight after the rest of the other groups finished their first round of elimination.
this meant that the next battle for their bracket would be happening after three days, which was enough time for roland to recover from his injuries.
"see you all tomorrow for the battles of the second group!" thirteen said. "pica, pico, do you guys have any parting words for our guests?"
"somewhere in this world, there is a tree that is tirelessly producing oxygen so that you can breathe," pica said. "please go and apologize to it."
a few seconds later, pico imparted the audience with his own words of wisdom. "in a world of diarrhea and constipation, it's ok to be a normal piece of sh*t sometimes," pico commented. "see you all tomorrow, suckers!"
instead of being offended, the audience only laughed at the pocopocos, who had hosted the rest of the matches as if they were born for these roles.