Raimundo watched as Kimiko was blown out of the trench, then shrugged. "Too bad. I was really hoping to get a chance to talk to all three of you."
"THIRD ARM SASH, EARTH!" Clay yelled. The sash became a solid rock hand which flew a punch at Raimundo. Raimundo leapt into the air just before it hit him and landed on the arm. Startled, Clay withdrew the hand quickly bringing Raimundo closer. Raimundo jumped off onto one of the walls, hanging on to a couple tree roots a few feet above Clay and Omi's heads.
"But I can see none of you are ready yet, so I guess that's a conversation for another time, hmm?"
Clay hated the way Raimundo was smirking. It was so smug. Kind of an I-know-something-you-don't taunt. Clay felt compelled to wipe it off his face. "THIRD ARM SASH, EARTH!" Clay yelled again and flew another punch at Raimundo. Raimundo dodged it by swinging on to the right root, then leaped down, his foot connecting with Clay's face. While Clay was momentarily stunned, Raimundo took the liberty of pulling off the Third Arm Sash and pantsing him. As Raimundo tied the sash around his waist, Clay quickly pulled up his pants and they went into hand-to-hand combat.
During all this, Omi was still just standing near the wall, watching the tussle, and wondering if he should help Clay. He knew he should, but he didn't really want to hurt Raimundo. However, it was his duty to protect the world from evil, no matter what. But was Raimundo really evil?
Someone gave Omi a rude push from behind, interrupting him from his thoughts. Omi turned. He had only a second to see the black-hooded follower, but that was as long as he got before he or she spat in Omi's face, blinding him. When Omi lifted his arm to wipe off the spit the follower kicked him hard in the stomach.
The force sent him to the opposite wall. Even though the air was knocked out of him and where he thought the other wall was, and grabbed onto something long, sturdy, and muddy once he hit it. After he spat out the mouthful of dirt he received from flying into the wall and wiping off his face, he looked up to see he was hanging onto a tree root. Then he looked down to see the follower was scaling the wall up to him while he seemed vulnerable. Omi had fought with this character enough to know that he or she played filthy. Well so could he!
If you mean play dirty, no, you can't. You're too honorable.
Yes. That was true. But maybe he could just twist the rules a little.
Bend the rules.
That too. Omi was getting used to subconsciously answering himself. He used the tree root to swing up and down, building up kinetic energy. The follower stopped and couple inches below him, probably wondering what the hell he was doing. When Omi was swinging to the highest point he get to, he threw himself down feet first, which landed a good hard blow on the follower's face. The follower let go of the wall in surprise and pain. When they hit the floor, there was a hitting, punching, and kicking frenzy.
Meanwhile Clay was getting confused and frustrated. Raimundo was still smirking despite the blows Clay managed to land on him. What was weird was although Raimundo obviously wanted to beat Clay, he hadn't used the Third Arm Sash or his element once. It was like Raimundo wanted a fair fight. But villains never fought fairly if they could help it. They used any advantage they could get. Well, chances were he had been in this place for so long, he had lost his mind.
Another thing Clay couldn't help noticing was how much better at sparring Raimundo had gotten. He was so much more focused, his form was a lot better, and he had even done a few slick moves Clay hadn't seen before.
Back in Omi's fight, the brawl had caused the follower's hood to slide back just enough for Omi to see the face. It belonged to a boy. When Omi saw him the first thing that came to mind was Jack Spicer. The face was different from his and there were no black lines, but there was the same unbelievably pale skin and dark red eyes. Bizarre. Completely unnatural. Even Omi knew that. Of course, at least Jack Spicer's hair color was close to normal. White tuffs of hair stuck out of the boy's hood. Not blonde-white, pure white. If Omi hadn't felt for himself that the kid was solid, he would have thought he was a ghost.
The boy realized what Omi was looking at, and quickly pulled his hood farther up the first chance he got, then resumed the fight. Omi was a bit shaken by the boy's appearance, so he momentarily lost his focus. That was enough for the boy to get the upper hand on the tussle and soon Omi was immobile, pinned underneath him. The boy turned his head to one end of the trench and whistled. Omi followed his gaze and saw the female follower step out of the shadows. She dug into her left jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny wooden box.