Alvios' eyes narrowed, and he quickly formed a light-blade around his own off-hand, like a katar. Something was wrong. Despite claiming his fear of it before, he agreed to the trade. He thrust this new blade at Vale's torso, aiming to mimic the wound at least, or do worse if the blade detonated as the javelin did. He had a plan. A bad plan that would take utmost precision on his part and was entirely reliant on his current analysis, but he had a plan, and it put him in how he preferred close-quarters; trading blows, and outlasting with healing. A risky move, a losing one against a blood drinker.

     [color=mediumorchid][i]I'm not as strong as Jenso, as fast as Jeff, as durable as Oz, or as grandiose as Bruce. I'm the doctor, the support, the man they can rely on to have their back. My Ki is less impressive in scale, but sharp, efficient, and unique in its own way. My grand attack back there was only capable because of Jenso's raw power, and they know it. Still...[/i][/color] Alvios began permeating his own blood carefully with Ki. If Vale truly did drink blood, he could treat it the way he treated every sword, burst, or that javelin; detonated and shattered. If he tripped this up, he might end up tearing up his own bloodstream. The automatic regeneration of Lightforge would help, but he wouldn't last long before needing to heal himself, and stopping to do that was impossible against this opponent.

     Alvios' expression had gone from careful analysis to a determined grin, and he would match Vale's enthusiasm with his own. He believed in himself.