Blacketh II

Zariel replied in silence. Then, charged, augmenting his muscles with his Astral Spirit, igniting the faintest glint of a flame cloak across the rim of his eyes. 

His frame blurred as Blacketh lashed out toward the groin. The blow was parried by the short sword Zeliek kept at his waist: a Shardblade that augmented one's instinctual awareness to allow one to react to nearly anything they sensed or saw. 

Sparks flared from their clash before Zariel's fighting style became more acrobatic. He leaped, his blade spinning into deadly semi-arcs, cutting and slashing nearly twelve times before he landed with a lithe step. 

Zeliek slightly paled, pushed back a few steps, overwhelmed by the suddenness of each strike that could not be perceived through his heightened senses but through sight alone. He grimaced, pushing forward on the offensive, his palm opening as an ancient magical circle condensed and flared.