The eleventh round had arrived, and Zaroth stood carefully studying the opponent before him.
At the same time, his eyes shined and his beasts materialized. He had debated whether he should summon Hellweaver or not. While the beast was powerful, it wasn't a bad idea to keep it as a hidden card should the need arise.
In the end, he decided he was going to keep the beast hidden for now. If his theory was correct, his opponent was much weaker than the last one, so he shouldn't have trouble winning.
Reaching behind his back, he unsheathed his sword. It had been some time since he last used one, and since forgetting how to wield it wasn't an option, he decided to take advantage of his opponent's weakness to practice.
A green liquid dripped from the sword in his right hand. As the drip hit the ground, Zaroth smiled. Even though he hadn't summoned Hellweaver yet, he had quickly called upon it before the match began, covering his weapons with the beast's poison.
