[h2][center]Lancer - Jangar, Khan of Bomba[/center][/h2]
[h3][center]Latin District - This bitch is crazy[/center][/h3]

Fighting against a Berserker in close quarters, even if Jangar managed to perfectly deflect each and every one of her attacks, was not without its cost. Each near miss of that deadly sword buffeted Lancer with scouring wind or peppered his body with shards and flecks of debris; even after just this short exchange his robes were showing signs of wear and blood seeped from thin cuts that were healed almost as quickly as they were reopened.

Nonetheless things seemed almost stable at this point; Lancer was growing accustomed to Berserker’s attacks, strong and fast as they were, and the level of damage he was receiving was manageable if not ideal. There was always the risk of something changing, a sudden change in tactic from his opponent or interference from their Master that could tip the scales, but as things stood here and now Lancer felt like he almost had a chance against this opponent.

Berserker’s roar intensified as the Servant seemed to all but disappear from Lancer’s view, a burst of speed unlike anything his opponent had displayed up until now. They were no longer in front of him, nor did they appear in his periphery. No! Where were they? Above or behind him? The chill that ran down Lancer’s spine was enough to answer that. Which side would the attack come from? With barely any time to react he took a gamble and blocked to his left, placing the haft of the Aram spear between himself and Berserker’s attack at the last second.

The only reason he wasn’t crushed under the weight of the attack is that he offered no resistance other than to block the blade itself, letting the blow launch him off his feet and away from his opponent. His back struck the building to his right, the wall breaking before his body did as Lancer suddenly found himself inside the structure, lying on his back amidst the rubble of the shattered masonry.

[color=8dc73f][i]“Master.”[/i][/color] Pushing himself to his feet, using his spear as leverage, Lancer stood. [color=8dc73f][i]“Tell me where you are.”[/i][/color] He felt the blood run down his face, closing one eye to prevent the flow from blinding him. If he had felt broken by Berserker’s first attack then this had shattered him. [color=8dc73f][i]“Keep me updated on your position.”[/i][/color]

He leapt out through the hole in the building and charged at Berserker. He couldn’t allow the Servant to pursue his Master, couldn’t give her even a seconds lead or else he would not catch her in time to protect Jackson from her wrath. He could only hope the Magus was making good use of the time Lancer was buying him with his life.

Thrusting the Aram spear at Berserker’s chest, holding it by the middle of the haft with both hands, Lancer sought to put his opponent on the defensive. He followed up with strike from the side, the tip of the spear turning away as the rear half of the haft swung around towards Berserker’s head. A third strike came immediately after, the spear swinging back the other way as the bladed head raced towards the Servant’s throat. Lancer continued to attack in this manner, relentless, one attack flowing into the next and coming from all angles as he sought to take the initiative away from her.

[@KoL][@ItMeGritty][@floodtalon]