He blocked a kick to his chest with both arms that sent him flying backwards, managing to roll back to his feet.

(“My arms!”) Ash lamented while flicking them. He had no time to survey their damage as he quickly rolled forward to dodge an axe kick by Tibaut, only to be caught by a back kick. He was already rolling away so the blow had been lessened, but it wasn't as it did nothing.

He quickly sprang to his feet, jumping away as far as he could and he thankfully could only hear an audible scoff exit Tibaut’s mouth.

“(Heh, that's right, isn't it? He can't control himself, so he fears-) Guhuahk!?”

He had jumped about eight feet into the air so it came as a bit of a surprise he felt something slam into his back. He was forcefully turned around by the impact and witnessed as Tibaut flew past him, narrowly blocking the kick he attempted.

(“Damnit, I shouldn't have taken my eyes off him!”)

Both of them fell to the floor with Ash falling face first and Tibaut landing on his feet, quickly recovering, making his way back to Mr. Bentley.

The exhaustion of the battle was starting to catch up with him, and he couldn't help but gasp for air as Tibaut approached. Sweat droplets started to form on his head and the sight of one of the burns on Tibaut’s healing almost-

(“That's right. The boy can heal from my attacks, no wonder he isn't slowing… then I'll simply have to end it in one strike.”)

He blocked a kick aimed at his head and it felt as though one of his arms was going to shatter into a million pieces. Like the last blow, the strength Tibaut assaulted him with was more than enough to throw him back to his feet.

“Hey, old bastard, if you give up now, I won't kill you. How does that sound?” Tibaut said as he watched both of the man's arms shake from that last blow. Even with all the evil Mr. Bentley had committed, he still wasn't going to kill until absolutely necessary. However, the fact he was Ezekiel’s father probably had more of a factor than any sort of mercy Tibaut possessed.

Ash laughed at the spare time he was given by the boy and started forming a few flames around him.

“I see.” Tibaut kicked some dirt up, before rushing him down as carefully as he could.

Ash was quick to cover his eyes with an arm but as soon as he removed it, he had to throw himself into Tibaut to avoid a blow aimed at his face.

(“You really should stop using that arm.”)

(“Shut up, it should be quick enough even if it's injured.”)

(“Well swinging it around certainly isn't doing it any favours.”)

(“Okay so how long would it take to heal if I started using it?”)

(“About six minutes or so. You can fight that long with one arm, right?”)

He scoffed at the suggestion and tried to grab Ash in a bear hug from his close proximity.

He managed it but soon let go when Ash placed two sticky flames on his back. His shirt was already burnt off, leaving the flames in direct contact with his skin. He tried to kick at him and reach for the flames on his back in motion but was only successful in the latter.

Ash was now starting to get a read on Tibaut’s movements, though admittedly, the kick he tried to hit him with was very sloppy.

He soon saw light sources around the dirt road they were fighting and wondered if they gathered attention.

(“Shit, if the other people show up, who knows what this bastard might try to do to escape!”)

He looked around but quickly realised he was mistaken. The lights weren't the torches of people but rather, flames Ash had created that were getting brighter.

(“This might not be the end but it should buy dime time to go get it.”) As they stood opposite of each other, he breathed a sigh and wiped some sweat off his forehead. (“It's coming back to me. This battle has been an ordeal, but I suppose without a challenge on this scale, I wouldn't have knocked the rust from my bones.”)

“Young man, you talked about my surrender, correct?”

As Tibaut kept Ash in view, he noticed the surroundings were getting increasingly hot. Not only that, but the flames that were in his vision were glowing even brighter, lighting up the streets as well as an LED street light.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I think I could say the same for you right now.”

(“I hate I'm using so much mana so soon but, I do still have access to that if it comes down to it, so mana shouldn't be too much of a worry.”)

The worrying thing about these flames, so close to Ash, was the fact that even with ten feet of distance between them, their heat was this prominent.

The breathing was visibly heavy, so it seemed this technique took a lot out of him.

(“It's quite interesting how differently you two approach your magic. You're more inclined on firepower and destructive force, while the geezer seems more focused on the heat itself… okay that was a lie, teehee, I couldn't care less about-”)

The only reason Tibaut hadn't flung himself into Ash was those deadly flames but… if waited any longer he knew those flames would be hot enough to cause him major damage.

He gritted his teeth and quickly jogged over. But even a jog in his current form would seem like a sprint to anyone else.

And Ash brought the four flames he gathered forward.

They weren't very quick but from the first contact of their reignited combat, Tibaut could tell they were going to be a nuisance.

After the first punch, he had to bring his back arm to make sure it didn't touch him. At this distance, he could feel the level of heat radiating from the flame.

“I welcome you Tibaut… to Death Valley. (Ah, how long has it been since I’ve said this? Almost forty years I believe.)” He said.

As they blocked and threw punches at each other, Tibaut immediately realised why this was such a danger. Maybe it was because he was a user of fire himself that it came to him instantaneously.

It was similar to that flame veil he used, in the sense that heat alone would sap the strength of any poor soul that tried to get some close-range combat in. He couldn't imagine how brutal this would be if you didn't resist flames, as even his skin was starting to hurt.

As they continued their brawl, Tibaut would have to duck and dodge at unexpected points due to the flames. Every time he thought he had a clear hit on Ash's skull, he would have to sidestep at the last moment to avoid a flame being dragged his way.

The other, more nefarious part of this technique was the moving flames. While they were slow, they weren't something that could be ignored by a regular person. Every time you threw a punch, you would question yourself if it was or wasn't a faint. It causes hesitation on every punch. Because if it was, he'd likely get you with a flame and burn you straight to the bone.

But even for someone like Tibaut who could withstand more than the average person and showed no hesitation, the movement of the flames alone was more than enough to throw off his rhythm.

The obvious move for anyone not like Tibaut was to run away but considering the techniques Ash showed earlier, he may have wanted this for opponents who relied on close-quarters combat.

He tried to bat one away and it only went back a few feet before leaving that part of his gauntlet red hot.

He managed to dodge a blow from Ash and attempted to grab his arm, but a flame that touched his side had him dropping that idea.

The pair continued to toil away at each other with neither man having a clear advantage, until Tibaut stepped into a blow of Ash.

The blow was bad enough, but its force pushed him into two of the flames, and it was then that Tibaut realised the flame hadn't truly touched him yet. He heard his skin sizzle from the heat and heard a pop from the dead skin, sweat and somewhat moist dirt gathered on his skin.

He quickly pushed them off, but his lack of concern for Ash, made him easy pickings. Another blow slammed his head and another his jaw. He tried to dig his fingers into the side of him but Ash parried before kicking his face with another blow.

(“Maybe his regeneration wasn't as bad as I thought, maybe I might actually-”)

He let his guard down. He thought his victory was sealed and within a moment, Tibaut used all the force he could muster. Ash tried to dodge but it was no punch or strike. He grabbed his throat. The flames were currently touching him, but he showed no care for them.

With the force he flung his hand, it might well have been a punch from the pain it left his neck in. A thumb was all that connected with his neck initially, but that was all he needed to give him a good grip on him.

(“So you really did think, you could defeat him without killing him? By the way, those burns you receive have gone to muscle. Just a fun fact from your guardian angel showing you what being merciful gets you.”)

(“I'll tone it down, and if he lives, he lives, if he doesn't, well that's the end of that.”) He thought as he began forming a fireball, his rage somewhat dulling his mind.

(“I can't believe you'd ignore me!”) They said in a bashful tone.

The flames continued to press into him, going deeper into him and his grip on Ash grew tighter.

But Ash quickly punched his arm away, freeing himself and Tibaut quickly backed away, having had enough of the flames.

Ash wondered why he didn't kill him but quickly remembered a factoid about a fight of his from Elizabeth.

(“I'm alive for such a stupid reason!?”) The old man thought as he turned around and began running. Given his age and how infrequently he used ki, he might not have known of the reason it failed.

As Tibaut watched him run back towards the Branch Building, he couldn't help but wonder one thing. (“Why didn't my magic come out?”)

(“Ah, would you like an explanation? You see, magic and ki are considered opposing forces traditionally. Would you want to hazard a guess why?”)

Tibaut got to his feet and started chasing after Ash. He didn't have time for this.

(“It's a funny thing really. Whenever you're using ki, to make a long explanation short, you can't make use of your mana. It's why that Elizabeth girl you know hasn't switched over to it in the time she's lost access to her magic. It'd be a waste to learn something like that after she had refined her own magic so greatly.”)

(“I hate you.”) Tibaut simply thought as he jumped up to the window of the branch building, pulling himself up to the ledge.