Dark Warlock in the Apocalypse

"Hey, you! What are you saying all of a sudden!?"

The sudden declaration of forfeit had thrown the arena into confusion. The one shouting was the leader of the pioneer who had just conceded the match. Clearly, this wasn't something they had agreed upon, and the leader's voice was filled with frustration.

"Forfeit? What forfeit!? I told you, if you fought properly, you could have easily...!"

"We can win in the next match. It's just one forfeit."

"You're out of your mind!"

The leader's face turned beet red, and he looked like he was on the verge of exploding. But the pioneer in the arena simply averted his eyes, pretending not to notice. Seeing this, the Dark Elf's lips twisted into a sneer of contempt.

"A forfeit, is it? Running away with your tail between your legs is still your choice, I suppose."

"I didn't agree to this!"

"Your agreement is irrelevant. You aren't the one fighting. Would you call out to a soldier in the field and order them back when they've already turned their back on you?"

The leader bit his lip in frustration and stepped back, realizing he had no control over the situation. Meanwhile, the duelist who had forfeited looked visibly relieved as his decision was accepted.

"So, since I forfeited, I can just head back now, right?"

"Do as you please," the Dark Elf replied with a scornful laugh. "Even if your leader doesn't approve, you wouldn't fight anyway. At best, you'd just walk out of the circle and declare defeat."

The cutting remark didn't seem to faze the pioneer, who turned his back without shame. To him, saving his own life was far more important than being insulted.

"You bastard! I trusted you with this, and this is what I get!?"

"What do you want from me? I value my life too!" the pioneer shot back.

"If you were going to do this, you should've said so earlier!"

"Of course I didn't tell you! You would've blown up!"

"...."

From the sidelines, Derek stood watching the argument with a bemused expression. He blinked a few times before speaking up.

"So, since my opponent forfeited, does that mean I win?" Derek asked.

"That would be correct. You may step back and wait for your next opponent," the Dark Elf confirmed.

Derek grinned and returned to Justin and the others, his mood light.

Justin met his eyes and offered a brief smile before surveying the arena. The other pioneers looked as though they'd been turned to stone, their expressions grim. It was clear to everyone what was going to happen from this point on.

'They can see what's coming, but it's already too late.'

Justin leaned back slightly, a calm, satisfied expression on his face. Now all that was left was to sit back and enjoy the spectacle as it unfolded.

"Forfeit!"

"I forfeit too!"

"I surrender!"

The tedious string of duels continued, but the pattern had become predictable. Every time Derek stepped into the ring, another forfeit was declared. Some leaders nodded in understanding, while others cursed and shouted at their champions for being cowards.

But one thing was consistent—the expressions of the leaders were growing darker by the minute.

Of course, not everyone was willing to give up.

"Damn it! Fine! Let's have a proper fight!" one pioneer snarled, his face twisted with determination as he gripped his weapon.

Some of the pioneers, clearly irritated that Derek had been winning by default, were determined to take him on. Whether out of frustration or a genuine belief that they stood a chance, their reasoning didn't matter.

The result was always the same.

Boom!

"Guh! Spare me...!"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Crack!

Thunderous crashes echoed through the arena, followed by the sickening sound of bones breaking. After two distinct sounds—the roar of Derek's hammer and the crack of his victim—another body would fall. Derek would then calmly leave the arena, his victory assured.

After the third body hit the ground, no one else dared to challenge him.

"I surrender!"

Derek shrugged at the latest forfeit, a small grin on his face. "Humans are so boring sometimes."

By the time the twentieth pioneer had forfeited, Rachel leaned toward Justin with a puzzled expression.

"This is strange," she whispered.

"What is?" Justin asked, glancing at her.

"It's all happening too smoothly. Don't you think it's a bit odd that everyone's forfeiting so easily?"

"What, you expected ten people to fight?"

"No, but I thought the ones who did fight would at least be somewhat capable. But they didn't even stand a chance."

Rachel's point was clear. The pioneers that had faced Derek had fallen far too easily. These weren't supposed to be weaklings—they had made it this far, after all. Surely, they had fought their way through countless battles to survive this long.

"I understand," Justin said, his voice thoughtful. "If these guys had fought with everything they had, it wouldn't have been easy for Derek either. This isn't a game—it's real life."

The key difference between a game and reality was that there was no such thing as defense points. A single strike could disable a hand or foot. One blow to a vital area could end a fight instantly. Even if the opponent was stronger, there was always a chance for victory in a life-or-death battle.

"But that's exactly why they aren't fighting back," Justin continued, his gaze sharp. "They know they won't survive the first blow."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone has a plan until they get hit," Justin said with a smirk.

The pioneers who had fought Derek must have believed they stood a chance. But as soon as the battle started, all confidence would have evaporated. They'd realized the reality of facing someone like Derek.

"You remember the orcs from our dungeon exploration?" Justin asked.

"Of course."

"If you compare Derek's strength to that of an orc, they're pretty similar. Would you want to face a hammer-wielding orc in a one-on-one fight?"

Rachel's face paled. "Not in a million years."

"And what if I told you this orc wasn't made of tough hide, but had soft flesh like a human? You could win with one well-placed blow to a vital spot."

"...I still wouldn't want to," Rachel admitted.

Justin chuckled. "Now you understand. They thought they could win at first, but once Derek landed that first hit, half their confidence was gone. And then the doubts start creeping in."

Facing a stronger opponent, without teammates to back you up, and knowing that the enemy fully intended to kill you—it was a recipe for fear. The fear alone could cripple someone's will to fight.