MC Kotch screamed again, his voice hoarse but fueled by pure adrenaline. "In the Semi-Final round! We have a clash of elements!"
"In the red corner! A former member of the Shinra Chemical Corps, fired not for incompetence, but because he was too crazy about burning everything in sight! He'll turn this arena into ash! Welcome... THE ARSONIST!"
A gaunt man wearing a hazmat suit—scorched and tattered from the waist up—shuffled into the arena. Thick goggles obscured his manic eyes. Embedded in both gloves, Red Materia (Fire) glowed brightly, radiating palpable heat.
Johnny walked back into the arena, adjusting the fit of his wolf mask. His eyes narrowed behind the dark slits, watching the small fireball the enemy toyed with in his hand.
"Mages..." Johnny thought with distaste, his eye twitching. "Always a nuisance. They love their long-winded incantations."
The referee waved his flag, then immediately scrambled for cover behind a concrete wall. "START!"
The Arsonist didn't waste time. He didn't close the distance. He screeched like a hyena and thrust both palms toward Johnny.
"BURN! HAHAHA! FIRE!"
A fireball the size of a basketball hurtled toward Johnny's face. The heat was scorching, felt even in the front rows of the stands.
The audience screamed in horror. "He's dead! He's going to get roasted inside that armor!"
Johnny didn't dodge. He knew that with a 100 kg sword on his back, he couldn't hop around like a Wutai ninja.
He did something simpler. And crazier.
He twisted his body, swung the Dragon Slayer around to the front, and drove the tip into the sand with a violent thrust.
BLAM!
The giant sword stood upright before him, covering his entire body from head to toe. The blade, as wide as a man's chest, functioned perfectly as an iron Tower Shield.
BOOM!
The fireball smashed against the surface of the black blade. The fire exploded, licking the left and right sides of the sword, flames dancing as they sought an opening, but they couldn't touch Johnny, who was safely hidden behind it.
Johnny felt the hilt heat up slightly, but Master Izo's Mithril alloy worked its magic. The metal absorbed and dispersed the heat across the entire surface of the sword rapidly, preventing any single point from melting.
"Hot, Boss! Hot! My butt is cooking!" Puck screamed hysterically from inside the pocket, flapping his wings frantically. "I'm a wind fairy, not a roast fairy!"
"Quiet, Puck," Johnny hissed.
Smoke billowed. Johnny peeked out from behind the edge of his sword.
"Is that all?" Johnny's voice sounded cold cutting through the smoke.
The Arsonist panicked. His eyes went wide behind his goggles. "Why isn't it melting?! DIE! DIE, YOU FREAK!"
He fired again. Twice. Three times. Rapid fire.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Johnny began to walk forward.
He didn't lift the sword to attack. He held it upright before him like a Riot Shield, charging through the explosions.
His footsteps were heavy and sure. THUD... THUD...
Every time a fireball hit, Johnny paused only for a split second from the impact, then stepped again. Just like a walking tank.
The distance closed. 10 meters... 8 meters... 5 meters...
The Arsonist trembled. He was looking at a wolf-masked demon walking casually through his hellfire.
"D-Don't come any closer!" The Arsonist channeled all his Mana for a final attack. He clasped his hands together. FIRA (Greater Fire).
A giant fireball began to form, spinning wildly.
But Johnny was bored.
Just as the Arsonist was about to throw, Johnny stomped his right foot. The sand exploded beneath his boot sole.
Brutal Thrust.
Johnny positioned the sword parallel to his waist, the tip pointing forward. He launched himself (Dash) forward with an explosion of speed shocking for someone carrying that much steel.
Before the fireball could leave the enemy's hand, Johnny suddenly braked and jerked the hilt of his sword (Pommel) forward. Not a stab with the sharp tip, but a smash with the iron counterweight.
THUD!
The solid iron ball at the end of the hilt smashed directly into The Arsonist's solar plexus.
"Ugh...!"
The sound of air being forcibly expelled from lungs was painful to hear. The mage's eyes rolled back white, his goggles cracked. His ribs were definitely fractured. He collapsed instantly like a puppet with cut strings, his fireball extinguished completely before it was even born.
Johnny stood over his unconscious opponent. Thin smoke rose from his hot black blade, but the steel was unblemished.
Johnny glanced at his opponent's body.
"Magic needs spells," Johnny muttered flatly. "Iron needs no words."
Johnny won again. This time without a slash, only by defending and ramming.
In the VIP room, Reno stood up from his chair. His usually lazy posture was now upright and rigid. He pressed his phone to his ear with a bit of force.
"Tseng," Reno's voice was no longer playful.
"This kid... Johnny," Reno stared at Johnny walking out of the arena. "He just turned a 100-kilo sword into a walking wall. He didn't dodge, Tseng. He crashed through the magic."
Reno swallowed hard.
"His fighting style... it's dangerous. If he decides to fight Shinra..." Reno paused, imagining the scenario. "...Standard troops won't be enough. You need to see this footage. Now."
MC Kotch screamed hysterically, his voice cracking. "BLACK WOLF ADVANCES TO THE FINAL!!! He will challenge the Undefeated Champion... TANK!!!"
Johnny returned to the quiet waiting room. He sat on the wooden bench, grabbed a bottle of water, and poured it over his still-glowing hot blade to cool it down.
HISS...
Steam rose with a sizzle, filling the small room with warm fog.
"Hah... hah... Almost became a roasted Chestnut," Puck complained, peeking out of the pocket with a face smudged by soot. "One more, Boss. The next one... he's different. He really reeks of high-grade Mako. The smell stings my fairy nose."
"I know," Johnny answered calmly, wiping his sword with a dirty rag. "He's the strongest one here. Prepare yourself, Puck."
Johnny looked at the little fairy with a faint smirk.
"Maybe if I get desperate and drop my sword... I can throw you into his eyes as spare ammo."
Puck's eyes bugged out in horror. "DON'T! I'm Support! Not a throwing rock! Boss is cruel! I'm reporting this to the Princess!"
Johnny let out a small laugh, a very brief one.
Late afternoon turned to evening. The arena floodlights were fully engaged. The atmosphere in the Colosseum reached its peak. The betting money flowed freely, and strangely... many spectators who had initially mocked him were now betting their lunch money on the Black Wolf.