> I look to the warzone, an expression empty.

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Fighter stood still, letting the streaks make more ways in their paths and patterns, letting them become longer and more detailed for whatever purpose they were of intent. With the ornaments now taking their proper positions on his arms, and the moulding of ki in his hands neared its end, he looked across to Bbenson, who had yet to move nor make any action of any sort.

Instead, the Criofiend simply glared, complete with his teeth gritted in a fiery disdain. And the Sarhun just responded with a cold stare of his own, overtaken by his relentlessness towards his current objective.

Then Bbenson's mouth calmed into its normal form, carrying but a half-frown for whatsoever reason.

He would go on to do once more a bizarre act, lightly chuckling in amusement as he thought over his current situation and the way in which it was reached.

"So…what now, Sarhun?" He asked sarcastically, as if mocking Fighter's roots and heritage. But the Sarhun’s own words were even quicker to come. "Just so you know…" "Hm?"

"I can kill you right now, if I want."

"Oh, my. What a blatant threat~.”

"But at that…"

The ki in his hands reached their optimal, shaped into kyliies of a sort. "That’d be a colossal waste of my time right now. And to do it perfectly doesn’t have very high odds.”

"But at the very least…" Then he quelled that same ki, making it dissipate from his hands, confusing even the most keen followers.

He began to reach for his mask, recalling a very fresh memory, one of a talk between himself and Probacon. "Yo, Fi?" "How can I help?"

"Just a short question.” "Go ahead,” answered a crouching Fighter, in the middle of taking some investigative notes, and checking a certain area with a dazzling hatch, just like all the others of the Coliseum. . "What's with the mask?"

"Like, what's its purpose?" Probacon expanded, as to truly answer that question, the Sarhun had to turn to face Probacon. Which he did..

"Misdirection.”

"An old saying from the place I spent some of my youth had a saying that roughly translated to: ‘More lively and readable is the chicken without a head, than he whose head has been silenced by himself.’ That is my aim. To be he who silences himself so his adversaries do not know his true ambiance."

“An aim which I’ve achieved by learning arts to dictate the display of my emotional state and aura. Ways including heartbeat management, energy signal suppression, facial composure, hormonal subduction, mental compartmentalization, and more. Because I need every edge I can get when warring with another.”

"Ah! The coy hunter way. Big-brained move there, pal!" Probacon exclaimed with deep amazement. Fighter arose from his crouch, letting out an amused chuckle.

"It's simplistic, really.” And with the conclusion of this memory, his mask finally made it to the ground he stood on, with a thud that seemed to reverberate despite its size.

Bbenson stared at him with a gaping mouth, unable to decipher neither the former's reasoning nor intent, for all that truly was a mystery to the many.

Fighter…, thought David from where he rested, privy to the why of this undertaken action.

"Remember. This is the face of a person who beat you, one way or another.” Fighter declared with utter confidence, as now bar his eyes and the areas around them, his face had been revealed, displaying the bearings of a mentally mature but youthful warrior, whose own attractiveness seemed to have its own depths.

Bbenson's stare of disbelief carried on still. Then, his head would be slightly lowered, and his expression became of a more irate seriousness at the callousness of Fighter’s words in his eyes.

He rapidly launched himself towards the Sarhun’s stand, and aimed to land a quick but sharp blow to him..

But immediately, Fighter flung a strange bulky metallic disk with some wiring that divided parts across quadrants and an intricate form in both design and trajectory motion.

In the moments that followed, the device near Bbenson, who was then immediately shot back due to the floating device, but not from a repulsion resulting from a shockwave or anything of the type, something the Criofiend would take quick notice of.

That thing "reversed" the gravity in that area, eh?… He would make attempts to push through this strange device’s capability, but to little success.

And then before he knew it, Fighter had now somehow found his way face-to-face with him, and so bamboozled Criofiend out of his mind.

Fighter struck him with a palm, wearing one of his electric dischargers to administer a zapping effect to his opponent.

Though barely damaged, the Criofiend still needed some time to recover, but was handed none of such by Fighter, who travelled to his rear and struck with a powerful kick to the back of the neck on this occasion.

Bbenson quickly recuperated, flying away from the scene as fast as possible to regroup and restrategize, especially as for him, at the moment, the odds were not in his favour.

But the eyes of Fighter were on the Criofiend, watching with focus his every move as he flew.

Then, he strangely tapped the insignia on his gi’s chest region. And at the same time, a device that had been inconspicuously planted onto Bbenson would perform an untenable glow.

And in an instant, he now found himself above Bbenson in position, much to the disbelief of the Criofiend who had already raced great lengths of a worldly platform. How?!!

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But the time he had to mentate was short, with Fighter swiftly delivering a combination of sturdy attacks to his opponent, starting with an elbow and ending with a hook, causing him to groan when hit with each one, and causing them both to tumble to the earth.

With a firm grip, he latched onto the Criofiend's arm. The latter was then put in a strong arm lock, where his arm was bent vehemently behind him, causing him to cry in pain.

And with a spin, Fighter smoothly transitioned into a throw-down, flinging his opponent towards the ground that they greatly floated over.

Bbenson crashed, and a powerful wave came about as a result, clearing the nearby areas with a sweeping force.

The Sarhun, then in freefall, placed cupped hands to his side as before, concentrating ki in them as he prepared for another attack.

But alongside the ki revolved another energy. One of unnatural flame, and of hellish implication. I can finally use this…

~Hell Beam…SAGING WAVE!!!~ From his hands came a powerful blast of ki in Bbenson's direction, of a balanced combination between the techniques of a Demon Shot, a Hermit Wave, and that unearthly flame.

The beam raced towards Bbenson's spot, leaving the Criofiend with a horrified show of his dentals.

With no delay he departed that place, as the beam arrived with devastation even more extreme than his crashing.

Fighter searched around, as he could sense but not truly see his opponent.

~Fiery Golden Eyes!~

With his irides now a fiery orange, he quickly scanned around in hopes of locating Bbenson, with a power that could let him see great distances, and through illusion, disguise or transformation.

Then, he stacked atop that power with the same “lucent perception” as Probacon’s, utilising it as a supplement to the other visual power.

He did this for little time, as near-instantaneously Bbenson appeared just to his side, a presence Fighter himself instantly caught wind of.

He swiftly turned, only to see a beam of energy from Bbenson's hand ready to be sent right at him.

"I hope this serves as a preview of my true capabilities, if you survive,” spoke the Criofiend with a rise in his cock presentation.

And at point-blank range, he fired the blast straight at Fighter with a vicious smile.

But to a widespread shock, and much to the astonishment of Bbenson, Fighter had survived, and the attack had simply passed through and by him. “Fool.”

Suddenly, that body began to seemingly “phase”, as though it was a projected image with a source, much to the irrational shock of Bbenson.

The Criofiend looked to the surface. And as one would have it, an advanced projector provided the means by which the image was cast, clear from its position and a light that came from it with a direct link to the image. And this even further frustrated and enraged Bbenson.

Damned amplifier, damned mind games, damned gravity, damned everything!!… He purportedly snivelled in the loathing of his opponent's abilities.

Suddenly, two extensions, the recognizable energy threads, grabbed onto Bbenson's wrists, much to the unexpected reaction of the Criofiend.

The origin of these was the actual Fighter, who tugged at them with a hefty force, in a direction tha pulled thos ends closer to himself, as well as the individual whom they were linked to.

"GAAH!!"

In a quick span of time, Fighter deactivated both extensions, and then struck an incoming Bbenson with a side kick that sent him right back to the empty space.

He followed after him at greater speeds, not willing to let slip this window.

As he leapt up to be just overhead of his adversary, he pirouetted twice while the Criofiend reacted in a shocked jolt. And with the end of the second of the spins, a solid cross hook was delivered right to Bbenson's cheek, garnering a groan from him once more.

But Bbenson had now grown accustomed to the battle, and a kick of his own to the left side of Fighter's midsection was performed in success.

The state of things would change, as where both began exchanging physical blows and matched each other seamlessly in their focus on martial prowess arose. As attacks like strikes to the face, and hooks and kicks to the gut, and shins to the side flew about, enacting a demonstration once more, of the essence and need of combative expertise, in a way that could be clearly grasped.

《A targeted victory through the clashing of hands. A contest of pure carnage…proving to be all it was to be…》

He greatly outmatches me even in this, meaning… Bbenson began mulling to himself, hurriedly flying away from the heat of things.

Suddenly, Fighter's silhouette appeared before him, causing him to slightly pull back in surprise. The former had now seemed to evolve his empowerments, but…was clearly different in both outward and inner forms.

For his muscles had subtly greatened, though accommodated for by his more elastic gi, and his irides now shades of green with streaks of energy of that hue coming from his eyes. It was a combination of the stickers, one attributed to a greater, more legendary Sarhun power, and another far more different.

A Supreme Sarhun Pedigree mode?! No…forget that! A Hercle?! A usage of controlled gamma?!! Bbenson thought as his body shook in terror of the idea.

"I told you…didn't I?" Fighter stated in an unimpressed tone with a heftier voice. Bbenson's eyes widened, unexcitedly anticipating that which would follow.

With a force able that could “bust” a grand plethora of worlds if unrestricted, Fighter performed a double hammerfist on Bbenson, sending him plummeting towards the ground.

To survive this coming disaster, the platform was terraformed to a size and form that accommodated. And the disaster came, and swept away many of the

《The Hercle's power. The great emboldening of radiation itself.》

Fighter would forcefully land onto the repairing surface, and awaited the developments while entering thought.

I thought it wouldn’t be worthwhile…, thought the Sarhun, pulling out that same metal pack from earlier in their contest. But it looked like they did pay off.

Guess investing in creating these “Form Power Stickers” for both Sarhun and Hercle powers was optimal, indeed.

A sudden burst of ki and rage rose up. For Bbenson now unveiled his final card: his true form, at its possible current peak, without restriction or chalance.

And with an intense stare, one full of rage and irritation, his eyes went to Fighter, carrying only the intent to end the Sarhun before him…

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