The arrow made of flames grew gigantic. It was now almost the size of the entire arena to be precise. As it passed the fields, fires were set burning the grass on the floors, it moved like a Pheonix as it soared through the air leaving a trail of flames. It was nothing more than beautiful, but that couldn't be said for the one it was about to hit and potentially kill, Rufus, who even began questioning whether or not his army of clones could withstand the attack or not.
After duplicating even more clones, the total amount of them was now way over forty, the front lines stand as a shield to protect the other row behind, so did they, and it continued to be so, until the last row who were responsible for protecting the one man behind them all, the original, Rufus.
