"How the f- Hell with it. If you ignored the big important bit at the beginning then you're worthless." The armed warrior charged at him, swinging his blade directly at Flint's midriff. A ridiculously obvious attack, only a rookie would fall to that strike. Flint took three leaping backsteps from Roas, sliding across the charred ground. Flint wasn't certain whether or not Roas would follow through with his charge, even though he had swung a blade with two edges can still be swung back with deadly force. The spirit began backpedaling, making sure to put some distance between the swordsman and himself. 

With a good gap between them, Flint would be able to think up some sort of plan to make sure this guy didn't walk away from this fight alive. Flames licked outwards from his knuckles, reaching their full length away from his body. Straightening out into thin almost white flames, they flicked against his legs and the brush around him. The familiar's hair began to ignite, slowly covering the top of his head with the same nearly white hot flames. The same happened to his shoulders and knees. "Come on, soldier boy, I'm looking for a challenge. Not a rookie!"

With the flames enveloping his body, he rushed forwards. Arms extended to his sides, cleanly burning the nearby reeds. Flint had come up with the perfect idea on how to deal with this swordsman without taking a single hit. Though, it might not be perfect, he just thinks it's perfect.