The Sacrifice of Clone A

Bastion rotated just in time to see the blazing lance streak toward him. He then dropped into a low stance, sword held horizontally, channeling every ounce of his flame aura into a defensive shield. 

The collision was deafening as the flames collided, sending a shockwave ripping across the battlefield. Loose stones, shards of ice, and motes of foxfire were blasted in every direction.

The whirling dust dissipated, revealing Bastion, who was still standing despite appearing to be on the verge of collapse. Smoke drifted from his sword, and the blade shone an intense red, as if it were about to melt. His face distorted with pain and fury. 

Cain breathed heavily, channeling the residual power from Infernal Ascendance back into his body. This war of attrition was pushing both sides to their limits. But this was actually what Cain had wanted all along, as one of his reasons to fight Bastion was to also train his combat experience.