His opponent seemed to have remained mostly stationary, settling into a readied stance with a knife at hand only ten feet or so from him. The Weeper couldn’t help but find the sight slightly amusing as he brought his blade to point down, his arm straight, and tilted his head. 

“You’d pitch your knife against a sword?” He asked quizzically, taking in Mikael’s obvious discomfort with a glance as he passively sent another wave of near debilitating emotional stimuli. He was expecting despair then, but who knew, maybe Mikael would just get angrier.

The Weeper paced forward, it was a short distance, two steps and he raised the blade, tilted forward his elbow bent, his last step on his right foot blurred as he wasted no time striking with all the speed he could muster. It was a simple slash, effectively aimed at beheading his foe before he could use his knife, relying on the fairly significant reach advantage his sword-sword had over the smaller weapon.