[h2]The Arena[/h2]

"Oh? Common sense would say a good spearman has an advantage over someone with a sword that lumbering," Laetitia noted, eyeing up Lancelot's sword. Now, she'd asked her Servant enough to know that she could just go on the offensive and power through most defences, so the lack of, well, [i]extreme finesse[/i] that her fighting style engendered wasn't much of a problem. No way could Lancelot be going that route, though, even with a bigger sword.

Lancelot seemed determined to prove her wrong, holding the sword tenderly and stepping forward to meet Bradamante's charge, flipping Arondight as if it was a modern foil and pushing in to meet the thrust. Despite the massive length of the sword, his approach seemed to be to out-finesse the other French knight, meeting her attack and attempting to force it outwards as he moved closer.

[hr]

[h2]Alkyrieaze von Einzbern[/h2]

As, for some reason, Alkyrieaze appeared to have developed an interest in her phone despite the destruction going on, her Servant was frowning. Annoyingly, the injured Berserker was showing [i]less[/i] signs of slowing down, and she wasn't being allowed to unleash her Noble Phantasm in the small confines of the city. Instead, she was having to take a defensive approach, and herself wait for an opening...

Even Berserkers would stop if you cut off their head.