The battlefield simmered with tension, every breath drawn like air through fire.
Ripples of heat danced across the shattered ground as Saponu's clone and Richard Mawunyo faced each other. Cracks webbed across the surface, steam rose in bursts, and the temperature flickered between extremes. One moment, the air shimmered with blistering heat. The next, ice began to creep along the edges of broken stone.
Richard stood calmly at the center of it all.
His albino-white skin glowed faintly under the sunless sky, almost ethereal. Twin red eyes locked onto his opponent—not with rage, but with methodical, calculated menace.
"You think a copy of Saponu is enough to face me?" he asked coolly. "I'll turn you into vapor before you draw breath again."
The clone didn't respond. He blurred forward.
A flurry of lightning-quick strikes—targeting the ribs, the jaw, the neck.
But just as his fists neared impact, a cold burst exploded from Richard's body. The moisture in the air condensed instantly, turning to jagged shards of frost that froze the clone's arms mid-swing. Ice crackled across his forearms.
The clone growled and tore himself free, shards of frost shattering like glass.
Richard smirked. "Too slow."
Suddenly, the air ignited. A wave of heat burst outward from Richard's frame, transforming the battlefield into an oven. The very ground beneath the clone glowed red, cooking from the inside.
He leapt back, barely avoiding being scorched alive.
"You control temperature," the clone muttered, Copyeyes flickering crimson. "Noted. But I've already adapted to your rhythm."
His eyes analyzed every twitch, every muscle shift, every thermal fluctuation.
Then, he charged.
This time, he didn't attack head-on. He weaved between frost bursts and columns of fire, moving with unpredictable, erratic steps. He skimmed along heat trails and slid under cold waves—dancing through chaos like a ghost.
Richard narrowed his eyes. "He's learning too fast…"
The clone closed in. A feint to the left. A spin. Then a punch to Richard's ribs.
But the moment the blow landed, Richard's body flared with intense white-hot light. A concussive heatwave detonated from his core, sending the clone flying. Steam hissed violently off the ground as the clone skidded back, his skin slightly charred.
He dug his heels into the earth, halting his slide. Copyeyes scanned rapidly.
Cold… then heat. He's rotating between extremes. He's not just using temperature—he's shaping the entire battlefield like a weapon.
Richard rolled his shoulders, red eyes gleaming. "Not bad. You're persistent. But persistence isn't power. You're still just a copy."
The ground beneath them trembled. Frost formed spirals at his feet, while waves of rippling heat shimmered in the air above him.
"Let's see if you survive this."
He raised both hands, and the battlefield shifted again.
The air plummeted to sub-zero in seconds. Frost clawed along the broken earth like a living thing. The clone flinched, his muscles instinctively tensing as the chill bit into his skin.
Then—BOOM!
Richard's body erupted with searing light. The ice shattered, and a heatwave roared outward like a tidal wave. The clone crossed his arms, barely shielding himself before being blasted backward, feet carving trenches in the blackened stone.
From a distant ridge, Wisdom Wokata watched in silence.
His arms were folded, his shadow stretching long behind him. A faint grin played on his lips, and his deep blue eyes shimmered with amusement.
"He adapts well…" he murmured. "But Richard is a different kind of problem. He doesn't just fight—he dismantles."
He tilted his head, observing every twitch of the battle.
"Still… let's see how far this copy can go before he breaks."
Back on the field, the clone landed hard, smoke rising from his shoulders. He straightened slowly. His Copyeyes glowed brighter.
Switching temperature and terrain together… He's creating a rhythm, a trap. I need to disrupt it. No more chasing patterns. I have to create my own.
Richard raised a hand. The temperature dropped sharply. A jagged wall of ice surged forward beneath the ground. At the same time, his right arm ignited in flames—fire above, ice below.
Dual strike.
The clone launched upward to avoid the icy spike, but Richard was ready. A gust of molten air spiraled upward to meet him mid-air.
Wisdom smirked. "Checkmate?"
The clone twisted mid-air—his Copyeyes gleaming.
He vanished.
A flash.
Then reappeared behind Richard, fist cocked back—glowing with energy.
BOOM!
The punch connected cleanly with Richard's spine, launching him forward like a cannonball. He crashed, carving a trench through the ground before slamming into a rock wall with a dull crunch.
Dust exploded into the sky.
Richard lay still for a moment, then pushed himself to his feet. He touched his lips, glanced at the blood on his fingers… and grinned.
"Now that was a good hit."
He straightened.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. The frost melted in seconds. Steam billowed. His body began to glow—not with light, but with pressure.
The heat surged again—this time, far hotter than before.
"You really thought you could win with endurance?" he asked, voice deepening. "Let me show you what happens when I stop holding back."
The air around him ignited. Actual flames clung to nothingness, floating like spirits. The rocks near his feet split from sheer temperature alone.
Then—he moved.
The ground exploded behind him as he charged the clone. A barrage of heat-strikes, each one hotter than the last. The clone tried to dodge, but even his movements were slowing—heat was draining his energy, cooking the air in his lungs.
Richard's fist collided with the clone's gut. Another shockwave.
The clone hit the ground, coughing, Copyeyes flickering erratically.
"You can predict my moves," Richard said, stepping forward, "but you can't predict power you've never felt before."
He raised his hand again. This time, the heat condensed into a tight, white sphere—so hot, the very light bent around it.
The clone's eyes widened.
"That's not just heat…" he whispered.
Richard's smile faded.
"It's the sun."
Then he threw it.
A miniature star shot toward the clone—no escape, no room to dodge.
Wisdom's smile disappeared. He leaned forward slightly.
Now he was curious.
Would the clone find a way out?
Or would he burn… like all the others?