A fierce and bloody ferocity was truly a double edged blade. A wielder of it's power were as likely to inflict damage upon themselves, often indirectly, as they were to everyone else around them. As it was, Fuchsia was such a wielder. Fighting the way he did, meant creating openings, not on his enemies, but on himself. Inviting the french in on a cup of tea. A walking trojan horse. His club went swooshing over Tomaru's head, the swordsman cleverly leaning backwards enough to bend under it, and propelling himself forward with the use of his tail to close in the final distance between him and Fuchsia in an forward thrust. Fuchsia's Hellzooka was pretty damn big, so it was by all means required to move forward like that manner. 

The demon child, however, fully intended to mash his face in when the opening was exploited. Instead of continuing the horizontal sweep of his club, he simply let go the very instant it passed Tomaru's head. The metallic weapon was hurled into the distance, disappearing into the thick veil of darkness. Spla-Kshhhhht! The blade pierced through his chest. He had seen it coming, was fully capable of maneouvering in a manner to attempt to avoid it, but chose not to. Instead, he quickly shifted his body slightly down and to the side, as he pushed forward, forcing the blade through his body. His right lung was pierced. Fuchsia didn't make a sound, His right hand moved up to grab a hold of the sword hilt, as he simultaneously moved his head forward to meet the oncoming Tomaru head on. Literally. He dashed forward, head on first, with an aim to headbutt the swordsman right in the face. The ground beneath his feet again coming apart under the pressure of his force. The full extent of his massive strength pushing on behind, plus the additional force of Tomaru's own forward movement, would make a clean hit devastatingly lethal for the swordsman.