Travis's flaming fist blazed like a red sun rising in the darkness.

The Jayzepanese tried to dodge, but where could he go? The punch struck his position.

Except… he was in a wind form now. Physical force couldn't harm him. The punch merely collided with the air. Who could hurt air with a fist?

The Jayzepanese swirled in the wind effortlessly, immune to the strike—but the flames followed the airflow. Fire rode the wind. Fire consumed wind.

It was like a fire tornado.

Now, the Jayzepanese was