The sound coming from Nibo's platform had been audible across the entire arena since the fight began—deep, resonant impacts that carried through stone and made adjacent platforms vibrate with sympathetic frequency. Not the sharp crack of breaking barriers or the hiss of elemental techniques. Something more fundamental. The sound of mass meeting mass with nothing between them but momentum and the structural integrity of whatever was unlucky enough to be in the way.
Nibo's opponent was his mirror in every way that mattered.
Size—identical, both standing head and shoulders above what normal physiology should support. Build—pure muscle and bone density that made movement look like it should be impossible but somehow achieved fluid grace anyway. Weapon—a massive double-bladed axe that was Nibo's single-blade taken to logical extreme, edges that caught light wrong suggesting they'd been forged from something that wasn't quite metal.
