Damian watched Division A slowly, studying their weapons and their combat skills as fighters. His mind raced as he began to grow nervous as the number of fighters lowered in numbers. The middle-aged man knew full well that he didn't go to any school, he wasn't a complete fighter like many in the matches. His match grew closer, watching very closely after Camilla and the Bloodcast. His breathing continued heavily as he'd finally see the victor, knowing what was coming next.

His match was up, moving to step into the ring with a cutlass in hand. The Black stared down to the Rote, giving a minor staring contest before letting the fight begin. The odd match fought forward as the Black went to strike true at his opponent. His Cutlass was his offence and defend, his own personal sword and shield as he clashed with the Rote's own blade. His strikes were quick, knowing that he had to use speed over strength with such a strong warrior that he was fighting. His attacks made into contact with the Rote until they finally stepped out of the circle. The Black was crowned winner for his match. He moved to the side to check on the Rote before deciding to wait. He knew that is was only a matter of time before he went again.

The Quarter-Finals arrived soon after watching the final two fighters of his Division. He was up next to fight the warrior known as "Camilla". He remembered to study her fighting tactics, thinking her moves and his own before it happened. His swift blade was able to prove quite the advantage against her own weapon. His repeated strikes hit true as he was able to ground her soon after, though the shoulder push did surprise him. However, he was still crowned again as the winner for the match. He was now advancing to the Semi-Finals.

He became the last Semi-Final match before the finals were to begin. He was sure to study all of the fighters as they fought, but this one was tricky to pin-point. His strikes moved backwards and forwards as he fought valiantly against the Altalar. He knew to focus upon his speed and strength to try and throw the Altalar off, but he wasn't able to do so. He was soon grounded himself with a spear to his neck soon after. He was the loser for the Semi-Finals sadly, but was still quite proud of himself for how far he went. He'd give a shake and a nod to the Altalar as he'd go to watch the Finals, now being able to relax without the worry of fighting for the day. Once the winner was crowned, he'd move to check upon his family for the evening. He'd return to his home soon after to rest his wounds and smile upon his victories. He did well for a middle-aged man, very well indeed.