El Rey was impressed; first by Xavier's ingenuity and then by his resilience.

Equally matched as their strengths were, any attempt to break the rods with secondhand pressure would have been slow to the point of impracticality. Thus, by creating a brace for his wrist Xavier had neutered El Rey's advance, at least for a time. The downside was obvious, by locking his wrists in place Xavier limited their mobility and left them unable to react to more creative forms of subversion; unless, of course, Xavier was able to advance and retract the rods without consequence now that they'd been formed.

That in turn, presented a most interesting question.

Judging by the crimson fog surrounding them, the blood dribbling from his mask, and now the rods that had emerged from his boiling flesh it was clear that Xavier's power source was liquid life. Which is to say blood. It was safe to assume that this was no mere hemomancy, there was something special about Xavier's blood that no doubt accounted for his increased weight and supernal strength; in much the same El Rey's undead vassalage to the Jaguar God had transformed him into a something that straddled the line between organic and construct. The question then was whether or not Xavier's power extended into the realm of flesh warping, and if that meant he was impervious to long lasting physical harm. Not immune to damage, even the mightiest tanks could be worn down, but if Xavier was capable of rapid self-repair then El Rey's strategy would not need to change.

Likely from one of brawling and strength, to another that capitalized on the destructive nature of his ether. He could start imbuing his strikes with ether immediately, but to play his cards before their time, well…

Regardless, Xavier ate the first knee like a champ before being flung into the air, at home the fans were roaring and wincing in equal measure. But from El Rey's perspective things were a little different. The strike was more impressive than it was effective, which isn't to say it did no damage, but as one half of the collision El Rey could tell that Xavier had tightened his core to take the blow. Hardened in a way that superseded the mere clenching of muscles. What force did disperse into Xavier's body told him that the man inside was a curious one too, with little to no internal organs and hardened bones, no doubt an effort to limit the number of potential traumatic injuries he could suffer and to create more space for more tightly wound muscle.

A dent though, that was good, a little compromise here could lead to a big compromise there.

Xavier seemed to think the very same thing because when he was descending into the second knee strike he twisted to the side, throwing that considerable weight of his into a sideways tumble. Because of the tight nature of their movements, El Rey's knee would likely still scrape off of Xavier's side, but with the armor still in play and Xavier's considerable natural gifts the amount of damage dealt from a grazing blow wouldn't even be worth registering. Then he threw his own strike. It was a mirror of El Rey’s, performed with his right knee and hammering into the Apocalypse’s body to the sound of a resounding bang, and it achieved the same result. With the flesh of the Jaguar God like armor for his body and a body of cultivated undead might beneath that, Xavier’s knee found its force mitigated despite the impressive sound it made. He’d still done damage, but that was hard to calculate when El Rey was designed to ignore pain.

Not as mortal men felt it at the very least.

The Jaguar Mask loosed a vicious snarl of its own, gnashing teeth with spittle flying out; and though it was easy to mistake this reaction for one of pain, the truth was it was releasing a palpable aura of excitement. The mere act of violence and the prospect of more to come enough to spur it into life. At that time, El Rey decided to change his strategy, his left leg slid forward and settled in the space behind Xavier's leg as it fell back into line, a break in the man's stance and balance for what came next. Then with their hands still locked he threw his weight into a rush forward, for a man so powerful it was but a single powerful step forward and only intended to drive Xavier into the north-eastern turnbuckle, the ring would buckle and yet the padding seemed almost used to absorbing such portentous impacts.

Hopefully Xavier was still unable to stop him whilst

Should this be successful then El Rey would begin to rain elbows down upon the side of Xavier's head. This maneuver was performed with a twisting of his hips and a draw of Xavier's captured arms to the side, that way he could in theory expose the other man's head and deliver one sharp strike to the skull after another. Now that the secret was out, that the flesh of the Jaguar was like a suit of armor and a weapon all at once, those elbows became all the more frightening with how they struck with impact and piercing damage at the same time. This too was more research; how would Xavier deal with trauma to the head, if his skull wasn't strong enough to stop all the force then could his brain weather it instead, and if damage was dealt then did it really matter in the long term?

What of that mask and how would he escape?

Up to this point it seemed as though El Rey was content to 'capture' his opponent in close quarters where he could pummel Xavier with repetition. By putting the other in the corner, he would in theory eliminate his ability to angle from one side to the next, but many a monstrous wrestler had underestimated just how tenacious their opponents became when trapped. Not that Xavier was anything less than another monster, but it almost felt like El Rey was inviting mister Bloodbayne to do his worst. There was no masochism and no sadism behind those yellow eyes, only an earnest love for the art of fighting, one that ran deeper than any romantic or sexual connection ever had.

Meanwhile; a third orifice opened upon his body.