'I assumed Xander was the strongest. I guess that was just bias. He took so easily to leadership; I guess I assumed he would be so, more than able to back up his actions', Kara thought.
She was pretty confused. If the clone was anywhere near as proficient as the real thing, then it would be no pushover.
So now what happens? This guy just saved her. His ability to multiply spells was probably useful.
'I'd love to talk about how Xander would solo within logic, but I have to respect fact. He says I should stay put, and that I did.'
Victor stepped forward.
"Come."
His mana skin erupted into existence—not clean, not refined, but chaotic. It crawled over his body like living fire, jagged and unstable, wrapping around his arms in uneven layers. It pulsed erratically, flaring and dimming in no consistent rhythm, as if it rejected structure itself. It made him look volatile, dangerous—like something that could collapse or explode at any moment.
Yet he stood relaxed.
The clone stood across from him, unmoving at first. Its golden hair shimmered faintly, its hollow gaze locked forward. There was no presence behind its eyes—no strategy, no restraint. Just instinct waiting to be triggered.
Victor tilted his head slightly.
" Mana Pulse blast ×4."
Four condensed spheres of mana formed instantly around him, each one trembling with unstable energy. They launched simultaneously, streaking toward the clone from different angles.
The clone didn't dodge conventionally. Its body jerked, shifting in a way that didn't follow natural motion. Two blasts grazed past it. One collided with its shoulder. The last struck its torso directly.
The explosion kicked up a wave of force, distorting the air.
Victor didn't wait.
"Pulse blast ×5."
Five more appeared—denser this time, tighter. They fired in rapid succession, overlapping trajectories, forcing impact no matter how the clone moved.
The clone reacted late. One hit its side, another its leg, the remaining three detonated almost simultaneously against its upper body.
The smoke expanded outward.
Victor stepped forward into it.
The clone emerged.
Unaffected.
Its movements became sharper now, more erratic. It vanished from its position—not through speed alone, but through a jarring displacement—and reappeared behind Victor.
A strike came down.
Victor shifted just enough. The attack grazed his shoulder, the force alone enough to crack the ground beneath him.
He slid back.
"So that's how you move."
Zeus's clone lunged again—no buildup, no pattern. Just raw, sporadic aggression.
Victor met it head-on.
Their clash wasn't elegant. It was violent.
Victor blocked a strike with his forearm, the impact sending a shockwave through his mana skin. The chaotic aura flickered wildly, absorbing part of the force but distorting under pressure.
He countered with a straight punch.
It landed.
The clone's head snapped to the side, but its body didn't follow through. It reset instantly, launching another attack.
Victor ducked.
A second strike passed over him. He drove his elbow upward into the clone's torso. The hit connected, but again—minimal effect.
It didn't feel damage. It only responded.
It grabbed.
Victor twisted out of the hold, but not before the clone's grip crushed against his arm. The pressure alone threatened to break through his mana skin.
He stepped back, exhaling.
"Pulse blast ×3."
This time, the blasts were closer—point-blank.
They detonated directly against the clone's chest.
The explosion forced the clone backward, carving a shallow trench into the ground.
Victor watched.
Still not enough.
He raised his hand.
A small flame flickered into existence.
It was weak. Insignificant. Barely enough to light the air around it.
Victor stared at it.
"×4."
The flame grew.
Not drastically, but noticeably. Its shape became more defined, its heat slightly more intense.
"×10."
It expanded again. The glow sharpened. The air around it began to warp faintly.
It charged.
Victor didn't move.
"×20."
The flame pulsed outward, its size doubling, then stabilizing.
The clone closed the distance.
Victor sidestepped at the last second, the attack missing him by inches.
"×50."
The flame surged violently now. It wasn't just growing—it was compounding. The energy layered over itself, multiplying beyond simple expansion.
The clone turned mid-motion, striking again.
Victor blocked, his mana skin flaring chaotically under the impact.
The flame hovered behind him.
"×100."
It exploded.
Not outward in a burst, but in scale.
The flame didn't just grow—it consumed.
In an instant, it stretched across the battlefield, swallowing space itself. Fire layered upon fire, each iteration stacking, multiplying its intensity beyond natural limits.
The entire field fell into it.
The clone was caught within the inferno.
Victor moved.
He zipped through the flames—not unaffected, but unbothered. His mana skin flickered wildly, adapting in its own unstable way, barely containing the heat.
He circled.
The clone moved within the fire, its silhouette barely visible through the blazing chaos. Its movements became more erratic, less controlled—not from damage, but from overload.
Victor closed in.
A punch.
It landed clean against the clone's jaw.
The force carried through, amplified by his motion and the unstable reinforcement of his mana skin.
The double staggered.
Victor followed.
Another strike—this time to the torso.
Then another.
Each hit was heavier than the last, his movements accelerating as he adapted to the clone's rhythm.
The clone retaliated.
A wild swing.
Victor slipped past it, the attack grazing his side. He turned with it, driving his knee upward into the clone's midsection.
The impact bent it slightly.
He grabbed its arm.
Twisted.
The joint didn't break—but it shifted unnaturally.
Victor released it and stepped back.
The flames began to recede.
Not because they weakened—but because they had already done what they needed to do.
The clone stood in the aftermath.
Burned.
Not destroyed—but affected.
Its movements slowed—not from pain, but from disruption.
Victor rolled his shoulder.
"Pulse blast ×6."
Six blasts formed instantly.
They fired in sequence.
Not all at once—timed.
Each one struck as the clone adjusted, forcing continuous impact, never allowing full recovery.
The final blast detonated directly against its head.
Silence followed.
Victor stepped forward.
The clone moved again.
Even now.
He exhaled.
Then he vanished.
Not completely—but fast enough to blur.
He reappeared in front of the clone.
One punch.
Direct.
All his weight, all his momentum, all his unstable amplification behind it.
The impact landed.
The clone's body folded around the force before being launched backward, crashing into the ground with enough force to rupture the surface beneath it.
It didn't get up.
Victor stood still.
The chaotic mana skin flickered, then settled slightly.
He turned.
Kara was watching.
He smiled.
"Next."
He looked at her again, that same smile lingering—sharp, effortless.
Then, as if it had meant nothing—
He stepped forward.
"Let's move."