The fight had begun.
Alphonse had left a thick, viscous slime on Rodrigue's fist. Using this glistening, viscous tether, he was swinging the larger man like a puppet on a string, slamming him from one side of the arena to the other, dredging up great furrows of dust.
Rodrigue's body crashed into the dirt, but he wasn't beaten. He dug his fingers deep into the arena floor, his muscles coiling. With a guttural roar, he gathered his strength and launched himself in a gigantic, earth-shattering leap.
Because the slime still connected them, the elastic tether snapped taut. Rodrigue was no longer ascending; he was now a living missile, rocketing back down in a deadly dive-bomb, aimed directly at Alphonse.
"Ah ah!" Alphonse laughed, the sound wet and mocking. "There is a bond between us! That leap is useless, you're only bringing yourself back to me!"
"Abyssal Leap," Rodrigue replied, his voice a low growl.
[Skill: Abyssal Leap]
Rodrigue's signature leaping technique. Each jump releases a concussive shockwave, tearing the ground apart on takeoff. As he lands, the accumulated kinetic energy condenses in his legs, ready to be unleashed in an explosive, area-of-effect discharge.
Rodrigue descended on Alphonse like a meteor. The moment of impact was deafening. The slime-link didn't just break; it detonated. A shockwave of force and kinetic energy exploded outward, blasting Alphonse so far back that the air itself seemed to rupture around him.
The spectators screamed in a frenzy. Angel, Rhea, and Yabal could only stare, speechless at the sheer violence of the shock.
Alphonse was sent tumbling, but he was far from finished. As he rolled, he shot out tendrils of slime, gripping two massive blocks of stone from the arena's ruined wall. The slime stretched... stretched... and then, like a human slingshot, snapped him back.
A nearly hysterical smile bloomed on his face. He rocketed toward Rodrigue, his fists already encased in a glistening armor made of hardened, razor-sharp snail shells. As he closed the distance, he threw a devastating punch.
But Rodrigue was faster. He dropped backward, his body impossibly flexible. In the same motion, his own tongues shot out, planting themselves on the ground like stilts. Using them as a pivot, he vaulted upward, delivering a thunderous knee directly under Alphonse's chin.
CRACK.
Alphonse was launched vertically into the air. Rodrigue bounded after him, catching him in the apex of his ascent, and hammered him with a volley of brutal, powerful strikes.
Alphonse crashed back to earth. The ground shattered under the force of the impact, spider-webbing with fissures. But as if the fall wasn't enough, Rodrigue dove down one last time, fist cocked, ready to deliver the final, killing blow.
He was a shadow, growing larger and larger.
But beneath the rubble, Alphonse's eyes were wide open.
He's coming, he thought, panic rising. If he lands, the explosion from his Leap... it will destroy me. I have to get out of here.
An idea struck him.
"Arms of Helix," he murmured.
[Skill: Arms of Helix]
Alphonse can mold his slime into any form: arms, blades, tentacles, or shields. These extensions are semi-organic. They can detach, crawl independently, or fuse together to create monstrous, complex shapes.
In an instant, his slime contorted, morphing into massive, thick arms that folded over him, hardening into enormous shields.
Rodrigue struck the viscous barrier at full power.
THWOOM.
The expected, ground-shaking detonation was completely contained. The gelatinous shields absorbed the entirety of the kinetic blast, dissipating the energy with a sickening squelch.
Alphonse surged from the gravel, untouched. His slime immediately reshaped again, forming an intricate bow. He drew the slimy string, and arrows of lava hissed into existence, crackling with heat. He unleashed a rain of fire upon Rodrigue.
Rodrigue was a blur, dodging and weaving between the molten projectiles. He even caught some of the arrows mid-flight with his prehensile tongues, ripping them from the air before they could find their mark. He answered with another brutal leap.
A vicious kick connected with Alphonse's face.
The resulting explosion tore Rodrigue's chest apart in a spray of blood and flesh. For a horrifying second, the arena seemed to be drowned in a red rain, the metallic tang of blood filling the air. The crowd went utterly silent, their cheers dying in their throats, replaced by a mixture of awe and terror.
An arm flew through the air... and then it exploded into gore.
Rodrigue screamed, a raw, agonized sound.
Alphonse stood there, on the other side of the smoke, as if nothing had happened.
"You... you thought you destroyed me?" he said calmly.
Rodrigue, stunned and bleeding, stared at the ravaged, exploded body of Alphonse... and then at the perfectly intact double standing right next to it.
A new foot belonging to Rodrigue suddenly exploded.
Then a third Alphonse appeared. A fourth. A fifth. The entire arena was filling with viscous, smiling doubles.
"Spiral Echo," Alphonse declared, his voice coming from all of them at once.
[Skill: Spiral Echo]
Alphonse can create slime clones with human characteristics. These clones are unstable. When destroyed, they either explode in a shower of acid or recombine around him to form a new armor. Each clone retains a part of the collective consciousness, allowing for perfectly coordinated attacks.
The clones threw themselves at Rodrigue. With every one he destroyed, a burst of caustic acid showered him, eating away at his skin. He was desperately searching for the original in the middle of the chaos. The acid had already burned away the flesh from his entire body, only the skin on his face remained, a ghastly mask.
He was breathless, hemorrhaging, missing an arm, but he continued to fight. His gaze did not know how to capitulate.
Alphonse, the true Alphonse, watched from the rubble, still hidden. He made his copies disappear, his victory seemingly sealed.
"I never left the rubble," he said, his voice echoing, his smile widening. "I sent one clone first, so you would think it was real. If I had sent several at once, you would have sensed the trap. I let you believe you were victorious." He spat. "The conquerors of Jamal will win this tournament. We will take the entire END."
Rodrigue finally fell to his knees. The clone that had just been speaking suddenly burst apart it, too, was a fake.
And then, the real Rodrigue stood up.
He was "more alive" than his mutilated facade had led anyone to believe.
"I must take precautions," Alphonse said, his voice now laced with genuine surprise. "You could have triggered a last-ditch attack. One never knows."
The announcer's voice boomed over the stunned silence, the countdown for the K.O. vibrating through the air.
"THREE!..."
"TWO!..."
Suddenly, Alphonse, the real one, in the rubble, couldn't move.
Something was crawling on him. Dozens of long, sinuous shapes, coiling around his limbs like a swarm of serpents. He tried to struggle, his eyes wide with shock.
"But... these are your tongues! The ones that were cut off!" he stammered. "When... how?!"
Rodrigue rose to his full height, his bloodied face pulled into a ferocious grin.
"Since the beginning of the fight," he rasped. "I deliberately left them hidden in the arena. They regrow, and they can move on their own. They didn't attack you earlier because they can smell humans. Since they ignored all your clones, I knew none of them were the real you. They've been slithering toward your scent this whole time."
The tongues wrapped tightly around Alphonse, immobilizing him completely. They began to glow, heating up like red-hot whips.
"Infernal Tongues," Rodrigue growled.
[Skill: Infernal Tongues]
The tongues behave like living whips, burning from the inside out. They can detach from his body to pursue a target, leaving a trail of fire. When they coil around someone, an incandescent rune appears on the ground, a brand that announces the massive explosion to come.
A rune blazed into existence beneath the rubble.
Then came the explosion a blinding, fulgurous blast.
Alphonse's slime transformation was instantly canceled by the shockwave. He was blasted from his hiding spot, his body mutilated and smoking. K.O. Instantly.
"And the winner... is RODRIGUE!" the announcer shouted, his voice trembling.
The crowd exploded. Some screamed in ecstasy; others were simply frozen, shocked by the brutal comeback. Yabal roared with joy, pumping his fists. Rhea, still reeling from the violent images, just stammered a few incoherent words.
The human tide began to pour out of the stands.
Rhea suddenly felt a pressing need. The young man who had been sitting near them pointed her toward the restrooms. She slipped inside, relieved herself, and was about to exit when she froze.
She heard two voices from near a service exit.
"I hope the Spart are stationed outside the city walls," one voice murmured. "We can't let any of these 'conquerors' leave, especially not any that might be transporting 'travelers'."
"Understood," the other replied. "We'll capture them all. The ones who were defeated in the early rounds have already been delivered to the Transcendent Assembly."
Rhea stood perfectly still in the shadows of the doorway, her heart sinking like a stone.