The fight has begun, and the warrior of the 11th has made it clear that he intends to give no quarter.
The rusted spear in his hands is thrust forward, its sharp end aimed at your chest. The air crackles, forced into disarray by the weapon's strength. Not the wind, not the pull of gravity, not even the user's own imperfect movements can stand in the spear's way. No matter how skilled a martial artist, no motion can be perfectly steady, no strike can be like a straight line; but this spear refuses to go along with any factors that could hold it back, even the flaws of its own user.
This strike really is a straight line from point A to point B. The efficiency of the attack is absolute. That perfect trajectory cannot be disturbed, because the attack itself is unstoppable. The only hope of survival is to get out of its path before it's too late.
You dart away. The edge cuts your side, drawing blood and tearing at your black uniform, the unrelenting force behind the blow not diminished in the slightest by the brief, painful contact. That force nearly catches you off-guard and knocks you off your feet, but you manage to hold your ground and take the initiative as your opponent readies for his next blow.
"Flourish, Haname!" You swiftly exclaim the name of Hikari's shield, releasing your blank sword. As the shield of light forms in front of you, the spearman's eyes widen and his swift feet push him backwards. It seems that even Ryuu is hesitant to face the mysterious force that supposedly repelled the Menos Grande.
"A shield?" He mutters after a brief inspection, his tone cautiously relieved. His expression suddenly regains its fierce confidence and he charges back into the fray. He doesn't attempt to bypass the semitransparent barrier - Ryuu's dash is as direct as the path of his weapon - both are headed directly for your copied release.
(1/2)