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Chapter 79: Blue Flame

  Blū got to his feet, standing tall in the face of his opponent’s oppressive, dark aura. He tried to steady his breathing. The cold air stung. He closed his eyes.

  Jug cracked his knuckles. Blū could hear him approaching.

  “Stand down. It’ll only benefit you in the long run.”

  Blū reached out... and heard a voice answer.

  It’s been a while since you reached out to me.

  Lam, the Jaguar God: Wielder of the Blue Flame.

  “I’m sorry I broke our promise.”

  I wouldn’t have made it if I didn’t believe you’d follow through... eventually.

  “I doubted the world. I thought my idea of a Hero had been abandoned.”

  And now?

  “I don’t care what Heroes are supposed to mean anymore. I’ll do what’s right—because it’s needed. I’ll trust my judgment, and do what I believe is right... to the best of my ability.”

  Well then... I look forward to seeing the path you carve. Just don’t disappoint me.

  Blū opened his eyes and slapped his hands together. Mana surged through his arms, buzzing through his nerves until it clustered between his palms.

  “Oh?” Jug said with a smile.

  A dim blue flame erupted from Blū’s hands, coating them from finger to wrist. Fire pooled in each palm—yet it didn’t hurt. These flames did not burn, but neither could they be extinguished easily. They would last as long as Blū willed them.

  Jug took a step back, eyes narrowing. Maybe he realized he’d misjudged the boy.

  “A Levula?” he said. “You’ve had that this whole time?”

  Blū smiled.

  “How I trick and manipulate you during this fight... is for me to know.”

  “Fair enough.”

  A second of silent anticipation passed.

  Blū dashed forward, landing a flaming punch to his opponent’s side. Jug didn’t budge—his skin had gone metal again. But that wouldn’t last forever. Blū struck again: the arm, the chest, the face—all solid as steel. But now, with the flame, his hands didn’t recoil in pain.

  Jug blinked out of his metallic form, back to bare flesh, and dodged the next punch. He weaved around three more before skipping out of range.

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  “Got you on the run now!” Blū yelled with enthusiasm.

  “Haha. You shook me for a moment there, I’ll give you that.”

  Blū dropped into a stance, ready to dash again. He stood among flickering blue flares—slivers of his flames shaken loose by every punch. They continued to blaze without fuel. The blue fire was willpower incarnate, and it would burn until Blū was finished—whether he had won... or died.

  The two fighters closed the gap and resumed their brawl, fists flying at Mana-boosted speeds. Blū ducked, feeling the breeze of a right hook skim past. He landed another punch. This time, Jug’s body shifted forms for less than a second—timed perfectly with the impact. Blū struck again, and Jug repeated the flicker-blip a second time.

  Of all the things Blū could say about this man, one truth stood clear:

  He loved to fight.

  Blū spun around Jug, striking at his back and aiming for a blind spot. Once again, his fist met metal. He followed up with a flurry of blows—an unrelenting storm of nearly a hundred—and Jug defended against every one.

  In a moment of frustration, Jug landed a hit with the back of his hand, sending a panting Blū crashing to the ground. Then he leapt, phasing into his heavy form as he fell toward Blū. He landed with an earth-shattering crash, splitting the road. Buildings up and down the street shook; tiles and bricks rained down in a cloud of debris.

  Blū sucked in a huge breath as he rolled into a wall, narrowly escaping the blow. He scrambled to his feet, leapt a few feet away, and turned—ready for another attack.

  A cloud of dust concealing Jug was swept up by the midnight wind, curling skyward before vanishing. The man was still smiling. His clothes were tattered and torn, but his skin remained untouched.

  Dozens of blue flame wisps shimmered across the street, their dim light trembling like candle flames in the dark.

  Jug’s aura had only grown more oppressive—a warped, heavy purple that distorted the air and filled the streets with an unnatural presence. Everything about it felt wrong.

  “Done?” he asked.

  Blū couldn’t stop panting. Each breath expanded his lungs like bellows pressed against his chest.

  Yet… he was excited.

  “I have a request...” Blū panted between breaths.

  “Oh…?”

  “One more punch. One more try, then I’m done.”

  Jug didn’t reply—but his grin widened.

  Blū didn’t wait. He shot forward, drifting across the fractured street toward his opponent. In that split second, he raised his fist and channeled his aura into it. The flickering blue flames scattered across the road wavered, then gathered—drawn to his clenched hand. A cluster of blue fire blazed brightly around his knuckles.

  Jug’s confident expression twisted into concern. He had no time to dodge. But still, he managed to phase into metal.

  The blue flame did not burn. It didn’t devour like ordinary fire. It did not destroy.

  In its simplest terms, the blue flame enhanced—just as mana did.

  But unlike mana, Lam’s fire carried almost no weight. Its ultimate advantage lay in accumulation, granting immense enhancement that could surpass an average mana wielder’s output. And though Blū couldn’t produce much at once, he had mastered the art of gathering remnants from previous attacks.

  The punch landed. Jug’s metallic body was one of the hardest things Blū had ever struck. But with that mighty, flame-wreathed hand, the impact erupted into a shockwave that thundered down the street and into the next, shattering windows and sending debris flying. The sky itself seemed to tremble from the strain. And beneath his fingers—Jug’s solid metal stomach cracked.

  Calm followed. The trembling force faded. The thunderous echo receded into silence.

  Jug’s moment of fortitude expired, and the crack split open on now-human flesh. The towering man smiled faintly, a sliver of blood trickling from his mouth.

  “Well—”

  He collapsed, unable to finish.

  Blū remained standing, the last whispers of his flame flickering out in the midnight wind.

  See that, Blond Boy? He thought with a grin. Now that was a punch.

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