Weak
Riven roared. The first he used in punching was burning. He jumped back and shed the burnt roots away. It regenerated immediately. "You are dead today, Belialthorn!"
"Stay out of this, Valor."
Riven brought both fists down on the ground as if to knock it. Hard, pointed roots busted out of the floor, each root was sharp and covered in blood that gleamed wetly.
Belialthorn didn't dodge and the roots pierced him. One on the shoulder, one behind his ribs, and one in the right leg. Pain flared and Riven grinned that he had him but Belialthorn simply burned the air around him.
The roots blackened quickly and fell away. "You should know you are my natural enemy here. Fire is your weakness."
His lips thinned. It was the truth but he wasn't only controlling roots. He had shadow and blood. Some of his smaller roots peeled from his body and hovered from the floor like a cobra readying for a strike.