There blades clashed once more, the wielders able to feel the weight and strength of the other as metal upon metal, scraped and sliced.
Pushing, Turning and Retracting. 
As Tyrhallan watched Leo back away again, he paced himself, not giving chase immediately to allow his opponent a moment of reprieve. 
A smirk had flashed on Tyrhallan's face as he heard his opponent comment his move, he watched as Leo tried to circle around him.
Tyrhallan meanwhile analyzed the young man's actions. 
He was trying to find an opening, trying to tempt him to reveal something, anything he could use against him.
"You wished to waltz, not I. Though perhaps you had thought to lead..." Tyrhallan spoke teasingly enjoying himself.
There weren't many that could keep up with his speed, it had been a pain for him to find instructors capable when he had ultimately too fast for them. With the few that could, he now had to hold back, because of them not being able to keep up with him anymore. Which didn't help with bettering one's self.

"I see you're good with the high guard, but what about..."

All of a sudden, the Spider dropped into a crouch and swung his sword in a wide horizontal arc, releasing the ki in his blade into the very air and sending it forth as a blade of wind aimed directly at Tyrhallan's feet.

[i]Clever dog! [/i]Tyrhallan's thoughts flashed as he was forced to move. 
Normally knights were trained to react in two ways to such attacks. Either evading the blow, but losing one's stronger position or attempting to block it, risking to injure to oneself as Tyrhallan in this case would have to literally cut away at the wind itself.
However Tyrhallan wasn't like other knights, he was the Crimson Rider, if he allowed himself to be thwarted by such an attack he wouldn't be worthy of the name Baron of the Sky. He rode the high winds.
And so Tyrhallan did neither, he dashed towards it, before he used his momentum to propel himself forward, doing a frontal flip over the blow, mimicking the Spider's crouch as had brought his blade down, knowing he might have to parry the man's follow up, protecting himself in that very fragile moment.
From the sides, one heard the whispers of the onlookers, barely speaking their thoughts aloud as they watched the match intently, holding their breaths.