Chapter 99: Pure Pugilism

The last thing Parth remembered was getting caught up in the backlash of the Severance. Maybe he should have redirected that attack in some other manner. Maybe then he’d have been spared the explosion of sharp energies that shredded everything in that area.

He was not dead, though. He could say that with certainty. Because once again, he was in a familiar place. His vision had taken him back to the burning village.

The visions happened when he entered and egressed from the dungeon. That had been constant so far, but the other times it had been a tossup. Especially this village.

The last time he was here, he'd passed out from tanking the full might of a tsunami. This time, he'd passed out from using up all his mana against the kraken, the voyagers, and then succumbing to his injuries.

There was a pattern to this. A purpose. He just couldn’t figure out what it exactly was.

Mindlessly, he walked to the unburnt town square once more. Unlike last time, the doppelganger didn’t make a dramatic entrance. Instead, he was already there, waiting for Parth.

Without hesitation, Parth stepped into the square again. He wondered whether his green twin would go away this time as well, citing that Parth was not ready.

The moment he walked into the null zone, he felt the familiar sensation of his connection to the fire. To his surprise, it wasn't instantaneous. Last time, his connection to the flames all around disappeared abruptly. This time though, there was a marked difference. His control did not abruptly snap. It was instead slowly unwinding.

He could feel his gauntlets tightening around his forearms, as if unwilling to let go. Also, he could feel the fire all around. His newfound sense of temperature was firing on all cylinders, despite the null zone preventing him from taking charge of the flames.

Parth didn’t get to ponder more about it, as the Doppelganger spoke up.

“Still no fire. Not ready.”

The blunt and stilted manner of speaking was the same as before. Parth didn't mind that. What he minded were the words.

“So when will I be ready then? You said the same thing last time,” he spoke, annoyed. Responding to his emotions, the flames surrounding the town square flared briefly before settling down. Both Parth and the doppelganger got startled at that, briefly glancing at the flames.

The green clone was silent for a few seconds, peering at Parth and then the flames with curiosity.

“Should be ready, but are not,” the doppelgänger said in a gruff tone.

"Well, I can feel the fire, if it's any consolation. And you saw that flare-up."

Once again, Parth’s statement was followed by a brief silence before the doppelgänger replied. “Is almost there. Get better, or lose.”

The green man was a bit more verbose than before. He was still talking in a stilted manner, but he was talking more.

And again, the broken speech made the blunt words sound confrontational. But they were straightforward enough, as the doppelganger took the same quasi-karate stance as before. Just this time, it seemed like he'd actually fight instead of calling it off.

“Oh, them’s fighting words, buddy,” said Parth as he fell into his standard boxing stance.

His body was tested in the dungeon, now it was time for his soul to keep fighting.

At an unseen signal, both of them unleashed their mana onto the world. The doppelganger was surrounded by an aura of fire— something that Parth had been doing during the final fight in the trial of water. Whereas, Parth was once again surrounded by the reddish hue of his raw mana. To his surprise, the red aura took the shape of his usual flaming aura. It flared and flickered as if it were actual fire. It looked the part. The only thing it lacked was the heat.

He didn't have time to ponder anymore, as the doppelganger unleashed a flaming chop that sent over an arc of fire towards Parth.

Parth immediately jumped over the slash coming for his head. It was an instinctual move since he got used to the aerial mobility his artifact provided him.

The moment he leaped into the air, he felt the heat even before he saw it. His newfound sense screamed at him and warned him about the fireball heading his way.

He knew that this was not real. He knew that the damage would not carry over to reality. He knew all that. Yet his instincts would not let up. Parth spent so many years training as a fighter. The habits that he had cemented through strenuous practice would not disappear that easily. So he went along with his instincts. He treated the attack as if it were real.

Without his flames, he couldn’t move around in the air easily. So he had to hunker down.

Parth put his guard up and curled up in the air. Then he waited. Within seconds, the fireball was almost upon him.

The red shroud of mana erupted around him right before impact. His mana collided with the fireball and caused an explosion that sent him hurtling back in the air.

Surprisingly, the fire didn’t affect him at all. He might not be able to wield them currently, but they didn’t burn him either.

Unfortunately, pyromancy at this level was not just all about the flames. The force behind the explosion still affected him.

He rolled in the air, righted himself, and landed on his feet. His ears were ringing due to the proximity of the explosion, and his forearms stung as they guarded against the brunt of the explosion. But he could still fight. More than that, he could win.

Parth eyed his opponent’s stance warily. There were no easy openings in sight. But that was the beauty of martial arts. If there were no openings, then he’d just need to create some.

His mana churned inside him, and like a shot, he was off, dashing forward. Habitually, he expelled mana from his gauntlets in bursts, trying to boost his speed.

To his pleasant surprise, it worked. There was no fire, but the burst of pure mana was still exerting some amount of force.

“Well then…” he smirked as he blasted forward. Several fireballs came his way, but he could sense them.

More than sight, his heat sense gave him an in-depth understanding of the trajectory of those projectiles.

Thanks to this budding sense of his, he steadily moved forward while dodging the onslaught steadily.

With the same quantity of mana, his flames would have pushed him thrice as fast. But since it was just plain old mana here, the effect did not carry as well.

Parth had mana to burn, so he ramped up his output instead. With thrice the mana, his defanged afterburners were as fast as they would be in their usual state.

As he neared his quarry, Parth cocked back his fist. His mana visibly coiled around his arm, compressing as his fire normally would.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

On the opposite side, his opponent too was in a similar stance, with flames swirling around his fists.

The opening salvo of this little skirmish was over. Neither of them had a clear advantage so far. Not like the green man was pushing for it. As someone who could fling fireballs with ease, Parth could tell that his doppelganger's heart was not in it. He could feel that his opponent was itching for a proper fight as well.

Whatever shortcoming Parth had at present was offset by his mana. But it wouldn’t last long. So now was the decisive moment. Parth had to force an opening in this upcoming clash.

Within moments they were almost within striking range. As someone who had been fighting for a long time, he instinctively knew what was going to happen. Right before they both fell upon each other, there was a tiny window. One last move before they beat each other to a pulp. Parth could feel the heat spiking suddenly and he retaliated in a similar fashion. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and swung with all his might. Both their punches never connected due to the single meter of distance between them. They were essentially punching air. But the result of the clash was palpable nonetheless. The burst of fire clashed with the pulse of pure mana. Parth could feel the concentrated wind blast rippling from his fist, all due to sheer force.

In the split second of collision, the two opposing magics smashed together, attempting to overpower the other. However, they were evenly matched. The flames tried to burn through Parth's mana while the vast quantity of mana in Parth's attack attempted to smother the flames. Neither of them found even ground, and it reached a critical point.

While their attacks were clashing in the middle, the fighters themselves had not been idle. Maybe it was due to this not being real, but Parth was feeling particularly reckless. And it looked like his doppelganger shared the same momentary recklessness. They both followed up on their attacks while moving forward. Before their colliding attacks could even explode, both of them punched the mass of unstable mana at the same time. From the moment they unleashed the big attacks, it had only taken a full second for all this to occur.

Their fists collided in the middle, a gauntlet clashing with a flame-covered fist, both smashing through the unstable concoction of force and magic.

Once again, their hits were evenly matched. So evenly matched that the resulting shockwave completely ripped apart the town square except for one spot— the epicenter, where the two of them were standing.

“Haha, holy shit, that’s what I’m talking about,” Parth cackled, progressively drowning in battle lust.

The doppelganger didn't respond, and instead withdrew his fist and got into stance once more.

Parth grinned and did the same. His hands stung a bit due to the clash, but he was fine otherwise. He was more than fine. It had been a while since he had an even fight against an equal. Andrea was the only person who could give him such a fight. Even that was marred due to the elements they wielded. Parth had been getting increasingly frustrated due to what happened in the second trial. Every fight was annoying, every enemy frustrating and duplicitous. This was a good chance to vent.

Without further ado, they burst into action. It was one of the most intense bouts Parth had ever been in.

Jab. Weave. Cross. Block. Jab. Jab. Hook. Deflect. And on it went.

The doppelganger was using the flames to suffuse his punches with more force while Parth was doing the same with mana. Parth's opponent was throwing a few kicks in as well, but Parth did not deviate from his boxing experience. Don might have recently taught him how to use his elbows and knees in fights, but in such a high-level fight, the body acted on autopilot. So, they both were fighting with what came naturally to them. The heat from the flames was not affecting Parth, so they might as well be just hitting each other.

The additional force exerted by the mana could not be ignored though. Each punch was accompanied by a wind blast due to their speed and strength. These were two superhuman warriors fighting to the best of their abilities.

What made it all the more interesting for Parth was that his opponent fought a lot like him. Sure, the base style might be different, but every fighter had a rhythm; a cadence that they normally fought at. And his doppelganger was a dead ringer for Parth when it came to said rhythm.

He lost count of how long they kept beating each other up. One could never gauge time accurately in such a situation. Parth had been in three-minute rounds that felt like they stretched on for three hours. Adrenaline at work. Now, mana was thrown into the mix alongside adrenaline. So it genuinely felt as though they had been fighting for hours.

Some hits were dodged, some were outright blocked, but some connected. And even here, it was even. If he took a hit, he ensured that he returned the favor swiftly. It was a legitimate slugfest.

Neither of them was injured enough to give the other a solid advantage. Maybe if the difference in skill were large, then this fight would have ended a while ago. But the gap was minuscule. So, on it went.

As Parth ducked and weaved from a flurry of punches, he felt an odd elation. It was as though he was fulfilling his purpose in life. It was as though he didn't want this fight to end at all. He wanted the fight to last forever. An endless melee.

That thought abruptly snapped him out of his flow. He took a step back, a few inches away from his opponent's punching range. It was wrong. Even though he was genuinely enjoying the fight, he didn't want to keep fighting here forever. Where did that thought even come from? Moreover, if it was someone he truly wanted to spar against regularly, it would be Andrea.

At that thought, something happened. The flames surrounding the town square flared violently, shooting at the skies. Parth's green clone hadn't followed through on the offense and was instead staring at the pulsing flames oddly.

"Good, you're getting it now," said the clone as he immediately unleashed a kick at Parth. He might be inches away from punching distance, but kicks were fair game. This was not a sanctioned boxing match, after all.

"Getting what now?" Parth asked as he blocked the kick with his forearms and swiftly moved into proper punching range. This close up, kicks were neutralized. His opponent had no choice but to punch.

Once again, they continued the familiar dance of beating each other up.

About a minute later, he felt the odd sensation again. A hypnotic effect that told him that he was safe inside this village. It was a good place to spend the rest of eternity. The flames were protecting him here. Outside, they would not do so. This time though, he could clearly pinpoint it. So he pushed back at those thoughts. And the moment he did so, the intruding thoughts went away. His mind was in a state of clarity that he had never felt before. He could sense every ember in this burning village. He could feel the hot air coursing through his lungs. He was aware; aware of heat in a more intimate manner than ever before.

And there it was once more. The flames surrounding their makeshift arena pulsed yet again erratically. In his state of awareness, he could acutely feel the flames dancing in joy. It was as if they were celebrating something. Before Parth could focus more on them, though, his opponent jumped in the air, twirling into a roundhouse kick.

Parth stepped in further closer, cutting the range and effectively nullifying the kick. Instead of his opponent's toe or the knee, the thigh hit Parth on the shoulder instead. Harmless. While the green-skinned man was in the air, while the flames all around were still fluctuating due to Parth's blazing enlightenment, Parth threw a right cross.

The huge amount of mana surrounding his gauntlet suddenly burst into flames. And the moment the flaming punch connected to the doppelganger's torso, the flames exploded and rag-dolled the man across the town square.

For a moment, Parth forgot about the fight. He was staring at his gauntlets. Specifically, he was staring at the flames coating his fists.

They were not their usual reddish-orange. They were blue instead.

Then once more, he felt it before he saw it. The shift in temperature was instantaneous. The town square immediately tacked on a few dozen degrees of heat as the flames burning throughout this razed village turned blue. Parth looked at his surroundings in a stupor, still feeling the intimate connection with the flames.

But before he could relish in the feeling anymore, it abruptly cut off, turning the flames orange once more.

"What the actual..." Parth trailed off in disorientation as he couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Good job. You're one foot in. About damn time too," said a voice that might as well be Parth's. In his trance, he had completely forgotten about the doppelganger.

Parth violently twitched as he hurriedly got into his stance once more, looking at the man who was now dusting the dirt off his shoulders. And something about it bugged Parth. The whole body language was different.

"Relax, will you? Our fight is over," said the doppelganger, rubbing a hand over his bruised torso. All that force and fire, and all it had done was leave behind a large bruise near his ribs.

"I have no idea what the fuck is happening right now," said a flustered Parth.

"We don't have much time right now. But you'll learn in due time. You'll learn when you're here again the next time," said the doppelganger.

It took a couple of seconds, but Parth realized that it was not just the body language that was different. "You can talk normally," he stated. And it was obvious. He'd been progressively getting more verbose. More articulate, less robotic.

"I always could. But it was not about whether I could talk or not. It was about whether I had enough leeway to actually do so."

"And you have the leeway now?"

The green-skinned man smirked at that. "Yes. And as I said, it was about damn time."

"Make it make sense, please," Parth said impatiently.

"Once again, we don't have the time. Last time, you remember me telling you that you were not ready?"

He still didn’t speak too much, but compared to before, the difference was night and day.

"Yes..."

"You're ready now, yet not. A state of duality. A juxtaposition. But it's just a matter of time now. Get stronger. Practice more. Fight more. The end is nigh."

"Ready for what?" Parth spat in frustration.

"One foot inside the ultimate threshold. Step through soon, or you'll lose," he replied cryptically.

The next moment, the flames spiked once more and consumed anything and everything within sight. The vision abruptly ended there, as Parth woke up.

Before he could register his surroundings, the first thing he saw was his arms trying to cover his eyes from the bright light. The gauntlets were subconsciously clad in flames. Blue flames.