[center][img]https://puu.sh/Athp9/75f4ddb245.png[/img][/center]

[h3][center]Ajax’s grave[/center][/h3]

Instinct was such a fickle thing, for many times it guarded and saved Takeru, but once in a thousand times, it betrayed her. Or maybe it was just that Takeru misunderstood the message it wanted to convey.

Now was one of those times; the spear that should have allowed her to disarm Achilles was rapidly approaching her neck. People always tell you that your life flashes before your eyes when faced with death, but to takeru, she only remembered the past few minutes. And as those minutes were very often filled with battles, she could essentially rewatch her battle in its entirety, often spotting mistakes and flaws that she should have approached differently.

Striking down Ajax in an attempt to save him, speaking the words to Achilles who never needed to hear them, and going all-in against one of the most incredible heroes to ever exist. These moments were melancholic, but they also allowed her to improve, or maybe it was just another form of instinct telling her what to do in its most raw form; and tell it did.

The idea hit her like a train, much like the idea itself entailed. There was perhaps one chance at this - one single opportunity to make it out of the fight alive. Her gaze glanced at his grip, his hand holding the spear some ways down for his slash, and then towards her own grip, at the end of the shaft, holding tightly in her own futility. Attempting to disarm such a man was more than just a foolish endeavor - it was nigh suicidal. But she might just have a shot.

The momentum charged through her body, pushing her forward as she prepared from the disarm. She couldn’t follow through on the attack, but keeping the momentum was a necessity.  Every ounce of spiritual energy she could muster was thrust violently into the sword, forcing the winds around it to swirl closer to a hurricane around it than any normal zephyr. And she kept on moving, not stopping to block the oncoming attack, or dodge, or anything of the sort.

In the next moment, not a split second after the two entered into close range, the pent up wind tore from behind her, shredding the flattened and desolate ground around them in a tumultuous release of pure energy. It was more like a jet engine than the ability of a sword, increasing her own speed several fold as she approached. However, that wasn’t her only ploy. Achilles would only have the power of his strike, regardless of the speed, at a certain distance. She needed only close it. With her increased momentum, she forced herself to the side, into the arm and shoulder that clutched the spear, bent on preventing the attack from reaching its full potential.

And then, with the rest of her speed, she barrelled into the hero, pommel swung forward from the blast to catch his waste, and fling them both across the ground. It was an unsightly display, far from a civilised battle between esteemed heroes, but of course this was not one such fight. It was between a man possessed with vengeance, and a woman desperate to survive.

If they fell, Takeru would keep going, allowing the extreme winds behind her to propel her even further forwards. Past her adversary, over his head, and out across the wastes as she surrounded her body with wind to make herself invisible, hoping for a head start before Achilles could recuperate. At least… until Sofia could broker a truce with his Master.

[hr]

[i]on the way to the Matou estate[/i]

[center][img]https://puu.sh/AJlGU/2a5c58b7cb.png[/img][/center]

[h3][center]Running down the streets[/center][/h3]

As petite feet ran across the concrete, the Whitehall girl was crying tears of regret in her defeat. She never wanted this, Achilles and his master must be hurting [i]so[/i] much because of her, let alone her sister, who she completely betrayed. She had to make it up, there was no way she could ever face them again if she didn’t; and it would all start with an apology, and a punishment.

Luckily for her, it didn’t take very long for Sofia to find the master of Achilles at all...but her expression and words saddened her deeply. Benita already knew what had trespassed, and even though her words told a lot, her face told more than those words could ever accomplish.

Benita was angry, mad, furious, and it shook Sofia to her core. for all the expectations she had, this was miles away from the things that crossed her mind. this girl was ready to kill her, she didn’t even hesitate...and Sofia would accept it...if it wasn’t for her sister.

Serafina, the sole reason she entered this grail war, to stand by her side and make their dreams a reality. She failed her, but by dying here, her failure would be all that would be left of Sofia, and that was unacceptable. So as Benita prepared her magecraft, Sofia quietly stood there, tying her bandana around her neck before uttering the last words before the coming battle.

[color=7FFFD4]“I’m sorry...”[/color]

No sooner than Benita released her demon upon Sofia to feast, did the Whitehall girl turn tail and ran towards her sister. She clearly understood the difference in skill-level between the two mages, and she knew that she could only stand a chance when with Sera.

As she ran however, she released the runes of unrelenting force, sending a staggering wave towards the demon and Benita to hopefully slow them down.
simultaneously, She took her mystic code dagger from its scabbard and held it in her hand in case of emergencies.