Bruce considered for a moment how Ross would react to having a blade jammed into his side- but then he recalled the lesson Ross himself had given them that Ki was an extension of the soul. If Ross' soul, his blade, could take Bruce's strike with minimal damage, it stood to reason Ross would be fine. 
[color=0072bc][i]'He's practically inviting me to attack,'[/i][/color] Bruce thought. He slid his sword out from under his foot, planting it down on the ground for optimal leverage, and redirected the flow of the rhythm in his blade. The song didn't change, but it crescendoed into a piercing climax of focused flow toward the blade's tip, which he thrust toward Ross' gut.
At the same time, Bruce changed his mace entirely into the familiar form of his chains, the tune of his Ki coursing seamlessly from the heavy drums of the mace to a thrumming bass that resonated from each individual link in the chain, strongest where each link met another. The mace that Ross had held transformed and wrapped itself around his right hand and forearm, another extension of it shooting toward Ross' extending left hand to restrain the movements of his arms. 
[color=0072bc][i]'It would be rude to refuse the hospitality.'[/i][/color]