[color=00aeef][center][b]Sigmund[/b]
[b]Spring Valley Community Park[/b][/center][/color]
[hr]
Ants coming together to defeat a greater foe. That much was understandable — even expected, to a degree.

The truth of the matter, however, was that at this point, Berserker only cared to crush one of them in earnest, having all but forgotten the other.

The main goal right now, with his vision tunneling on Archer, was simply to grind his face to dust.

Let him bob and weave all he liked. Truth be told, that suited him just fine. Using Archer’s pushing against his arm for himself, he allowed the limb to move in an almost sweeping motion as if to ward-off the other small-fry that wanted to jump him while he was busy, or at least impede the full extent of the assault. Then— 

Berserker’s mind raced.

That’s right, not only had he been a great warrior in life, but the instincts of the beast that he had attained had melded together with his battle experience and skills in order to forge something new.

So long as it only concerned “slaying the enemy”, he would not lose out to anyone. He refused to lose out to anyone. Archer's speed did not surpass his, neither did the other's. And he was confident that he possessed the highest "specs" in the other areas.

With his instincts and his skill, that was plenty.

Berserker’s second fist, already clenched, descended upon the enemy like a hammer, curving over Archer’s arm from the outside as it came upward from his jab and following a clear path toward the red-haired man’s head.

Rather than try to match the footwork, Berserker simply desired to blow his head off by using Archer’s own movements against him. Given that the bowman was moving to the side and upward, that meant a direct collision path with Berserker’s fist was clear.

Whether Archer’s jab hit was inconsequential. Or rather, to Berserker, the jab was a small price to pay in the larger picture.

To begin with, putting your own body, your own life, on the line was what it meant to “fight”.

[@Yukitamas] [@Seirei no hai]