The initial spurt of flame was enough to trigger Blaze’s Flamebound Gear Skill; visually, it would look like it turned to flame as well, though Blaze knew that wasn’t exactly what actually happened. It was a Skill that Blaze had wanted for years before he managed to get it; he’d gone through many different outfits while he was learning to control the flame of his bloodline.
“Phoenix.” Rockfist’s glower shifted into something more eager and less upset. “At least this should be a good fight.”
Blaze nodded. He couldn’t speak while he was in flames. He gathered some of his mana and pushed it into increasing the heat in the box; simply being in an enclosed area while he was fire would do that, but he could accelerate it. It wouldn’t directly hurt Rockfist, but staying active in a hot environment was draining for humans.
Rockfist took the time Blaze spent creating the heat spell to activate one of his own Skills, the one that gave him his name. His fists, along with his arms from mid-forearm down, turned to stone. He held them up and shook them at Blaze.
It was part of the theater of the fights in this arena; they weren’t simply about skill but about how exciting people could make it. It didn’t mean the fights weren’t real; it was simply an agreement that the fighters would be flashy before they got serious.
New fighters weren’t expected to have the flash; in a way, it was a way of giving them a chance, since the more experienced fighters were still expected to use their flash. Blaze knew he’d already made enough of a splash that he’d be expected to do something flashy if he fought again.
Maybe he would bring Sillon next time. That old man would enjoy it; he liked fighting far more than Blaze did.
Rockfist stepped forward and punched Blaze. Blaze didn’t even try to dodge; he wanted to know if there was anything about Rockfist’s attack that he needed to worry about, and Rockfist was clearly cautiously testing; he probably didn’t expect to actually connect.
Rockfist’s stone fist penetrated the outer layer of Blaze’s flame, then withdrew without hitting anything solid. Rockfist probably thought he’d just missed, but Blaze knew the truth: he hadn’t. There simply wasn’t anything solid to hit. Punching the flame of a fire was a terrible way to try to extinguish it, and Blaze was made of flame now. It would only last for so long, but that would be long enough.
Blaze was glad of the confirmation that Rockfist didn’t use any sort of magical ability or Skill that would affect Blaze when he was insubstantial, like Serenity’s ax. That was always an unpleasant surprise.
Moving in his flame form wasn’t possible without magic or an appropriate Skill. Blaze had never tried to choose a Path for that Skill, since he could easily move flame with magic. Intent-based casting was awesome for things like simple movement.
Blaze threw himself across the box. He knew what it would look like from the outside: a man made of flame that leaned over and became an arc of flame, then turned back into a man-shaped flame on the other side. Some might even realize that the flame that was on top originally was now on the bottom; that didn’t matter to flame and it didn’t matter to Blaze. Phoenix-flame took the shape it did because he was used to it, not because there was any reason implicit in the Skill or his bloodline.
Rockfist whirled and tracked Blaze. Once Blaze landed, Rockfist threw himself at the fire, only to miss and Blaze threw himself farther along the wall he was next to. That pair of moves was repeated a half-dozen times until Rockfist growled at Blaze. “You’ve got to attack. Playing keepaway just means you won’t be invited back.”
That was probably partly from Rockfist’s irritation, but Blaze guessed that it was probably good advice as well. After all, the point was to keep the crowd invested, wasn’t it? The point for the arena, at least, not just for the fighters.
Blaze wasn’t certain if he cared about being able to fight in the arena again, but he also knew he needed to win. Continually dodging was good for tiring Rockfist out, but it wasn’t going to give Blaze the win on its own.
The next time Blaze threw himself out of the way of Rockfist’s attack, he didn’t throw himself farther along the wall; instead, he threw himself through Rockfist’s space. Rockfist was a little too slow to realize what was happening and didn’t manage to get out of the way. While he did get his eyes closed, he unfortunately took a deep breath of Blaze’s superheated air.
Well, it was unfortunate for Rockfist. Blaze made a note to himself that he needed to be certain Rockfist got appropriate healing after that; heat damaged lungs were nasty. Rockfist coughed, trying to clear his lungs; Blaze gave him a moment. It only seemed fair.
The tables were turned, now; Blaze threw himself at Rockfist and Rockfist dodged out of the way each time.
It worked twice more, but the third time, Rockfist dodged down instead of to the side, falling under the stream of flame, then punched up into the flame. Blaze felt his substance part around Rockfists’s stone fist; it was the most effective attack yet, but he could also feel the way Rockfist’s fist heated up the longer he kept it in the flame.
That was good enough; it was time to end the fight.
Blaze threw himself at the ceiling. He wouldn’t be able to stay there, not without an anchor to burn from, but that was fine. It gave him the time and space to do his next spell. Blaze used the heat of the room to summon ropes of fire.
The parts of the room that weren’t anchored by either Blaze or Rockfist’s aura plummeted in temperature as the fiery ropes formed.They spread themselves out in a whirling twisted column that surrounded Rockfist on all sides.
Then Blaze threw himself to the ground, only this time he didn’t fall as one mass of fire. He spread himself out in irregular fiery blobs to cover the area Rockfist was contained in randomly, allowing Rockfist to dodge but not escape the burns entirely. This fire wasn’t just superheated air: it clung and continued to burn wherever it hit until it was extinguished. Being clingfire was far more mana-intensive than simply superheating the air in the shape of a man, but it was also usually far more effective.
“Fucking mages!” Rockfist seemed to think it was far more effective, as well; at least, that certainly sounded like a compliment.
Blaze pulled the surviving clingfire into a single mass just outside the fiery ropes. He was noticeably shorter than he’d been before that trick; he’d lost about a foot of his height. If he ran out of fire … well, this wasn’t a fight to the death. He’d surrender first.
He didn’t think he’d need to, however. All he had to do was show Rockfist and the crowd that he’d already won.
Blaze resumed control of the fiery ropes. They spun faster and faster, slowly closing down the space available for Rockfist to move. The space they surrounded became a pinched cylinder, with the narrow point only a couple of feet wide five feet above Rockfist’s head. The “walls” of the cylinder distorted the air, like the haze of a very hot day. Blaze could have closed they cylinder down on Rockfist, but that would be far too likely to kill.
Blaze needed Rockfist to try to get out; until he tried, he wouldn’t know that he couldn’t.
There were gaps between the ropes. Rockfist threw himself at one of them, moving quickly enough that he ought to clear the gap with no problems. Instead, he slammed the heat-haze of the cylinder and bounced back.
Blaze would have grinned if he could have; he loved that trick! The fire-ropes were real, but they were only the structure that created the pinched cylinder of heat-haze. Getting it to be solid was the hard part of this particular spell; fire wasn’t well suited for solidity.
In truth, it wasn’t actually solid; it was an interaction between the heat and the air that created an illusion of solidity by pushing things away. Blaze wanted to understand the mechanism better, since it would make for a better spell, but he’d never been able to find more than the initial description that gave him the clue to create it in the first place.
In this case, however, it worked even better than having the ropes actually be solid; it pushed Rockfist back with only minor burns.
Rockfist tried another apparently open spot and was repulsed. The third time, he went directly for one of the ropes, punching it instead of trying to throw his body through. It was a smart change of strategy, trying to figure out the spell and possibly even break it. Rockfist’s fists were also well-protected against heat; while stone could be damaged by enough heat, It wasn’t nearly as vulnerable as flesh or as prone to transmitting heat as metal. He could punch the spell all day and as long as he could get his fists to cool a bit in between each punch, they’d likely be fine.
If he actually connected with the flaming rope, Blaze would have to try something a little different. Blaze watched, slightly nervous.
The punch hit just inside the flaming rope and was knocked backwards. The punch came close, but that last quarter of an inch was the hardest to move past. Blaze felt the fire he was made of flare up a bit in the closest thing to a sigh he could manage now; he really had won. The only way out was under Rockfist’s feet, and Rockfist hadn’t ever shown the ability to rockglide or teleport.
If he could, Blaze would have a much tougher time. He’d probably have to pull out some other tricks.
Blaze closed the cylinder in more and more, watching Rockfist carefully. Rockfist punched at the same rope over and over but never quite reached it. He didn’t stop until there was no longer enough room in the cylinder to freely punch.
It had to be blazingly hot in there. Rockfist would definitely need to rehydrate when he got out and might even need some healing for heat damage.
Rockfist dropped his arms to his side and shook his head before he called out, “I surrender!”
Blaze stopped tightening the cylinder and listened to make sure the surrender was noted. When he heard the announcer start talking about the “massive upset in this amazing fight”, he dissipated the fire rope spell, then pulled the residual heat and fire mana back to himself. He needed it; he’d lost even more height from maintaining the spell, though not as much as the clingfire cost.
Blaze shifted back to his human form and had to fight to stay standing. He was cold now, but he was used to that. Returning from fire always left him shivering, even in a room as hot as the box was now.
Rockfist walked over to Blaze, grinning. “I never had a chance, did I?”
Blaze shook his head. “I know how you fight, I’ve seen it. You’ve never seen me fight. Makes it easy to plan something that will completely counter you.”
Rockfist chuckled. “Mages. So annoying. I take it the fire is why you called yourself Phoenix? It’s going to cause trouble.”
Blaze shrugged. “I’m a healer with a strong Fire element. What else am I supposed to call myself?”
“Anything else.” Rockfist’s words and tone were scolding, but he was still grinning. “I’d be up for a rematch some time, but call yourself something else.”
Blaze shrugged. “I hope I won’t have to. Might bring a friend who likes to fight.”
Rockfist nodded as he opened the door out of the box. “Do that. More fighters are welcome.”
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