[ He’s almost successful at knocking her xiphos away from her. Almost. At the last moment, Pyrrha’s Semblance erupts. A thin magnetic pulse, invisible to the eye, drives her shortsword back into her hand. The whole movement is fluid, seemingly natural; to the outside eye, all she did was reinforce her grip on the weapon. No one will have seen her nearly lose it.
Skipping back, just so, she dances around his kick and then pushes the line altogether. Like a hurricane, like a force without mercy, Pyrrha rushes him. Each blow is precise, methodical, and lightning quick. ]
[A large shield of ice forms on his arm as she attacks. He does give ground with each hit, sliding an inch or so back, leaving a trail of ice on the ground beneath his feet. After about 30 seconds of being on the defense, the shield explodes outward as he drops to the ground, hitting the ground with both palms, sending a coating of frost over the floor.]
[ Well, if he’s removing all traction from the ground beneath her feet, Pyrrha is left with only one option. Launching herself up, she changes to an airborne attack, coming down hard with rapid strikes - toward any opening he gives her, no matter how slight. ]
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Skipping back, just so, she dances around his kick and then pushes the line altogether. Like a hurricane, like a force without mercy, Pyrrha rushes him. Each blow is precise, methodical, and lightning quick. ]
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