He quickly looked to the ground and noticed the shape of his footprints had changed. From what he could see, it looked like the boy had trouble gripping the floor, and with the removal of his shoes, was now using different parts of his feet as an anchor. It looked like his shoes were holding him back.

And it did, with his shoes on, combined with his strength it was like he was fighting on a floor that was covered in soapy water. He could feel his toenails scream at him each time he dug his toes into the dirt but the fight was far more manageable now.

Also, if you were wondering why Ash was so preoccupied with the floor, he was sent to it about 10 seconds into his clash with Tibaut.

He tried again to reach for his pocket and had the hand he used kicked like a football. He clutched his hand and screamed in pain as Tibaut looked on.

He dodged the flames coming from behind and Tibaut had had enough of those. He grabbed his sword out of his hands before slicing through them and sticking the sword in the ground.

(“I also assume you knew my shoes weren't doing me any favours?”) He asked.

(“Just because I know a lot of things, why do you think I'm in any way shape or form indebted to tell you?”)

He turned back to Ash, grabbing his collar before lifting him off the floor. He felt the heat reappear behind him. He quickly slammed Ash into them and he got rid of them in an instant.

They burnt the front of his shirt and his jacket, revealing a burnt chest underneath.

He began fanning the air and Ash sighed before being slammed into the dirt.

“You've figured it out.” He said as he struggled to take Tibaut’s hand off him. All that energy he had earlier was gone and he now moved like, funnily enough, like a feeble old man.

“Somewhat. You're manipulating the mana left from your dispersed magic, correct?”

(“Wow, I didn't think you'd solve it so quickly.”)

(“Well that's how I form my fireballs. I release the mana and even move it if I have to. Like with those fireballs I try to hit from behind. So with those if you know where your mana is and you're close enough you can create your magic again, right?”)

(“Correct but give the old man his props. It isn't something you'll be capable of for a while, if ever.”)

(“Why not?”)

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

(“...”)

(“Whatever you bastard.”)

Ash again tried to reach into his pocket and Tibaut stomped his arm.

“What are you trying to reach for anyway?”

The young man on the floor tried to rake Tibaut’s face with his other hand but he quickly dodged and grabbed it. He held it up and twisted it around before using his healed arm to slam it at the elbow and turn it from a straight angle to a reflex angle.

Ash whimpered in pain, trying to choke it down and looked into the face of Tibaut.

“Haven't I l-lost alr-ready young man?” He asked. The sweat pooled on his forehead and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“You heard what I said, didn't you?”

Ash's face paled.

“Now that you're a young man, you should be able to take more than a beating, shouldn't you be an old man?”

He tried again to reach into his pocket and Tibaut slapped his bloodied hand aside and took the sack out of his pocket.

He released Ash and stomped on his leg before looking inside.

(“A dark powder… it isn't!?”)

(“It is.”)

He closed the drawstring sack and sighed before being forced to block a sword blow from Ash. It seemed the old man wasn't as totally out of it as he appeared.

The old man grabbed the sack with his bloodied hand and before he could open it, Tibaut slammed his gauntlet into Ash’s head, caving it in.

He quickly turned him on his back and listened to his chest. His heart still beat, and he felt a bit of relief. Mr. Bentley was a deplorable human being but it'd likely rub the others the wrong way if he killed him before they could learn the truth from his own mouth. If was quick he could return back to the mansion and-

The sack in the man's hand caught his attention. While his life was important, getting rid of that sack was more so. He quickly pulled it out of his bloody hand and…

(“That's strange. It feels sorta lighter”)

He lifted it up and noticed the bottom of it had a small cut. But it wasn't anywhere near a size for all the powder to spill out before he or Ash noticed.

(“It must have been when he threw the sword at me and I dropped it.”)

He looked back to the area he stopped the sword but there wasn't so much as a drop of dark powder on the ground. Maybe the darkness of the night was making it hard to see.

As he turned around he noticed something different about Ash's bloody hand. It was covered in a dark black liquid.

He grabbed it to get a better look and it quickly seeped into his wounds.

He could only blankly stare at the now bloodless hand.

(“Is…is that bad?”)

He'd always heard about it being bad if it got in their mouth, so what was going to happen if it got in his hand?

(“¯\_(ツ)_/¯”)

Deciding not to chance it, he quickly laid himself on Ash's chest and began his ground and pound.

But after the first hit, he felt a hand reach under his thigh and throw him off, a few feet to the side.