Molten

The metal beneath Leonel's feet crumbled as he vanished. His spear spun in his hands, wild lines of silver, white and blue following its arcs. It felt as though it was both everywhere and nowhere at the same time, touching upon a realm of speed, dexterity and skill that made the pupils of the five Heads constrict. 

When Leonel appeared once again, the lines of his blade became less important than the shimmering mark of the golden spear that hung before his forehead. The world fell into a calm silence as every stroke of his blade suddenly gained the ever so slightest golden hue. 

It wasn't immediately obvious to the five Heads just exactly which of them he was attacking. The current Leonel felt like the center of a budding rose, his blades outlining each petal one by one. Before the five realized it, his blade had appeared before Belize, descending with every intention of splitting her skull in two. 

"Is this a joke?"