My aura flared, cloaking me in a greyish shimmer.
My fist, propelled solely by aura-enhanced strength, slammed into Port's face, sending him stumbling backward.
As was expected, he recovered instantly, raising his arms to deflect my next blow. His surprise at the sheer force of my attack was evident, but it didn't deter him whatsoever.
The air crackled with tension as we began circling each other, a silent dance of predators assessing their prey.
I could see it. Even through the mirth in the man's eyes, he was taking this seriously. Not completely as his battle-axe remained forgotten on the ground, but this was a man who was telling us about wrestling Nevermore not ten minutes prior.
A bad teacher yet a good hunter, it seemed.
My copied semblance hummed beneath my skin, a wellspring of raw power eager for release, but he hadn't activated his own semblance yet.
There was no need to rush.
He moved instantly, a lightning-fast jab aimed at my ribs. I barely had time to react, deflecting it with a grunt. His counter was a heavy palm strike, but I was ready for it, slipping under the attack and retaliating with a sweeping kick. He blocked it with his forearm, but the force of the blow sent him stumbling back once more, yet less than before.
A feral grin spread across my face unwittingly as I pressed my advantage, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks. Port bobbed and weaved like a seasoned boxer, his defenses holding firm despite my onslaught. He countered with a powerful uppercut, but hand to hand was my bread and butter.
I anticipated the move, ducking under it and driving a jab into his midsection. The impact resonated through my fist, but he barely flinched.
We traded blows for a while, neither of us gaining a clear upper hand, but then again, this felt more like a test than a real brawl so far.
The air thrummed with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, punctuated by grunts of exertion and the sharp intake of breath as a particularly powerful blow landed on me. I could feel my aura flaring, absorbing most of the kinetic force of the fist which would have shattered the ribcage of an unawakened.
This was beginning to be fun.
Port attempted to gift me a concussion as a reward for my brief moment of distraction, and I activated my most valuable semblance of the hundreds I gained over the years.
A spectral shimmer erupted from my torso, solidifying into a perfect replica of myself.
With a synchronized strike, my double's fist launched forward, connecting with Port's jaw and sending him stumbling once again.
His eyes widened in surprise as he registered the sudden appearance of my doppelganger, before the corner of his mustache twitched upward.
"Two can play at this game, lad," he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes as he regained his footing. I heard the very ground creak in response.
I didn't stand on ceremony.
With a surge of adrenaline, I activated a few physical enhancement semblances for a brief moment, burning my aura faster than a hollowed tree in hell.
Alas, the result was almost equivalent to the cost. A blinding display of strength.
A blur of motion carried me behind Port, my fist a hammer of concentrated aura as it connected with his back, launching him forward with a grunt.
He rolled with the impact, coming up in a crouch, his eyes narrowed with focus, just in time to block my clone's own attack.
A clone who was just as aura and semblance-empowered as I was.
A low growl rumbled in Port's chest as he charged past it either way like a god-damned train, his fist a cannonball aimed at my head.
I met it with my own, the resulting shockwave rippling through the air.
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The past two weeks at Beacon had taught Ruby Rose a lot. The impostor syndrome ailing her ever since she had been tasked with leading her team after the entrance exam was losing ground fast as she felt the bonds of friendship between team RWBY start to thicken.
She was happy. There was no other way to put it. Having friends of her own was a dream became reality and she was still sometimes pinching herself out of fear that she might be hallucinating the whole thing.
Seeing the new student and Professor Boredom beating the snot out of each other was certainly not doing wonders to convince her this wasn't a fever dream after all.
Drago Geas, huh? What a weird name. She thought to herself, as she paid Port's class more than 0% attention for the first time ever since Weiss got thrown around by that Boarbatusk in their first lesson.
"Yeah! That's it, new guy! Show him who's boss!"
Ruby winced as Yang's shout rattled her skull a little but a smile tugged at her lips nonetheless. This kind of brawl was right up her sister's alley.
Uncle Qrow would've sighed, she mused. No flashy Dust, no gleaming weapons, just raw, hand-to-hand combat augmented by what were likely physical semblances, judging by the thunderous booms that echoed with every bone-jarring impact.
Ruby braced herself, a familiar ritual honed from countless hours of watching her dad and sister spar.
She had initially dismissed this spectacle as a welcome reprieve from Professor Port's monotonous lectures, but that changed the moment a spectral clone peeled from the new student's torso, seamlessly joining the fray.
Now this was interesting.
Ruby's eyes darted between the two figures, unable to discern a single difference between the original and the duplicate. They moved in perfect sync, a mesmerizing dance of coordinated strikes and parries.
The new boy himself was unremarkable at first glance: dark, spiky hair, standard Beacon uniform containing a muscular build. No flashy accessories or unique features to set him apart.
But Ruby knew better than to judge a book by its cover. Plainness could be deceptive, and besides, skills and semblances were what truly mattered in this world. Speaking of which...
"What do you think his weapon is?" She whispered to Blake who was reading one of her novels beside her and felt heat creeping up her neck when her teammate merely arched an eyebrow, gesturing at the transfer student punching Port in the solar plexus and making the man almost drop to the ground as the clone delivered a kick to his knees simultaneously.
They grappled, each seeking an advantage, a whirlwind of fists and feet blurring in the brightly lit classroom.
Drago feinted a low strike, drawing Port's attention downwards, then unleashed a devastating uppercut that lifted him off his feet. As he hung in the air, his clone spun on its heel, its aura-infused kick connecting with their professor's side and sending him crashing into a nearby wall.
The impact echoed through the hall, but to no one's surprise, a hearty laugh boomed from the dust cloud.
"Impressive, lad! Most impressive!"
It certainly was, but Ruby still had her doubts.
"That can't be!" Ruby hissed at Blake, her voice barely a whisper. "He would have gauntlets like Yang if that was the case or some kind of leg armor. Have you ever seen someone fight completely barehanded?"
Blake's eyes narrowed for a few seconds, silently scanning the boy before simply shrugging and returning to her novel.
Ruby huffed, her attention snapping back to the fight just in time to gasp in unison with the rest of the class as the transfer student unleashed not one, but two new semblances.
"What in the blazes?" Weiss's incredulous whisper reached her ears, and Ruby noticed Blake's book tumble to the floor in shock.
Ruby could only silently agree, her jaw hanging open in stunned disbelief. Unless the boy was some kind of illusionist with hidden fire Dust and impossible speed...
She might have just witnessed something that contradicted the very laws of the universe...