megan krista

A solid kick to Viktor’s balls brought him to the ground, but Noah wouldn’t let him go that easily. Several hard stomps pulverized the man’s legs, and then he seized his broken right arm and continued snapping the bones, along with his fingers. One might think the audience, having cheered through gruesome violence for fight after fight, would be overjoyed by this display of brutality, but it was the opposite. They were dead silent, feeling their earlier excitement wither with every pained howl, and when Noah twisted Viktor’s left arm until his broken bones tore through his flesh, many turned away, unable to watch anymore.

“I heard through the grapevine that you were pole vaulting. I guess I missed that.”“Shit yeah. That was a broken arm waiting to happen. I think my chest is too small and my ass is too big for that.”

Once he got accustomed to the restraints, he decided to challenge himself. He removed his shirt and began performing his personal workout. Now, it wasn’t just his muscles being strained, but his mana reserves and control. Having spent numerous lifetimes pursuing the peak of physical fitness, he knew how to fight through strain and fatigue, and push his body to its limits and beyond, but this experience was a whole new dimension of challenging. The closest thing he could compare it to was performing weight training in high altitudes and crushing depths.