[center] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180802/e61782578dae7a450e7cb6ed97fed551.png[/img] [h2]Foreigner's Lowlands[/h2][/center] The attack had worked, but not well enough. A single head fell, less a coherent form and more a mess of gore that fell and splattered across the flattened ground of the Foreigner's Lowlands. Past the incandescent glow of his shield, he eyed the Oni fly from on high, and yet her smile never broke. She was laughing and enjoying herself, perhaps in full confidence of her... "Otou-san". The hero held his ground, clutching the shield and steeling himself against the flurry of blows as his rampant and clouded mind ran through the situation. His spear was gone, and he had no way to recover it without dropping the shield. His body groaned under the force of holding back the barrage of attacks, tearing in places as his preternatural strength coupled alongside the strain of Rho Aias cracking. One layer broke, and then another. He had no weapon. If he dropped the shield and tried to attack, he would die. What an [colour=Red][i]amusing situation.[/i][/colour] Ajax braced his hands against the shield, and with it stood up from the ground, the force of each head slamming against its form digging his feet into craters behind him. And he pushed, with every ounce of strength he could muster. Every fibre of his body screamed with strength much too far beyond human limits, only barely held together by whatever magic that Caster had weaved into him before the fight. And he forced the shield forwards. No doubt the heads of the Orochi were moving at a great deal of speed. Should their great strength and momentum come to clash with an advancing shield backed with strength closer to that of a God, there was no telling the damage that would be inflicted upon them. [center][@Froppy][/center]