[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/DtzPDwW/Marduk-Banner.png[/img][h3]The Swordwind Fleweth[/h3][/center][hr]
Having crashed into the ground after being thrown, Marduk had taken a bit of a breather recovering from the Fomorian's grasp. He coughed up a bit of bloodied spittle, his insides having been crushed. As he sat up, he punched the ground in anger, enraged that he allowed himself to be grasped by the beast. To allow himself to be taken out of the battle by such a loathsome foe... Naught else could be more dishonorable than such a thing.

Marduk's Elven blood boiled within his veins, the anger of his progenitor burning him from within. The bodies that surrounded him, the cursed monstrosities that infest the town... such transgressions had awakened the remnants of his forebears before him. The very notion that this one-eyed foe continued to draw breath only enraged Marduk even further. He could feel the impatience of his ancestor, who desired the beast's head to be separated from its body at this instant. Marduk could feel it within, the urging of his ancestor to take action with their own hands.

Indeed, Marduk's ancestor wished to join the fight in earnest to bring justice to the fallen, and to bring this beast's foul existence to an end.

The warrior took a few deep breaths, recalling the meditation techniques taught to him by his Elven caretakers. He was well aware that while fully allowing himself to be overtaken by his Leargas was something that would quickly end this fight, he also knew that he would [i]lose[/i] himself in the process, being replaced by his ever-wrathful ancestor. Being locked into your own body, having it moved by another being without your own volition. To Marduk, such a thing was a fate worse than death, moreso with his current understanding of [i]what[/i] would replace him.

So instead, he took a moment to calm down, to gather the situation before him better. The shambling town, while a depressing sight, also bore its own fruit. Multiple avenues to enter the fight were available, especially those that allowed Marduk to disappear from his foe's one-eyed sight for a time. It helped that Marduk has miraculously landed near the Fomorian that bore his cloak. With a plan finally set and his angery somewhat quelled, Marduk spat out the rest of the blood that gathered in his throat as he made his first moves.

Marduk quickly recloaked himself, staying low and allowing himself to disappear with the smoke and rubble that permeated the ruined market. His cloak helped in that regard, blending in with the wood and stone of the marketplace easily. He then ran opposite from the direction of the battle far enough to where he would seemingly disappear from the combat entirely before leaping upward atop the market stalls. Marduk quickly leapt between each stall as he slowly built an elevation advantage before reaching one of the nearby buildings. 

It was then that Marduk would start making his way back to the battle, using the heightened elevation to stay out of the Fomorian's sight. His footfalls were eerily silent, his steps all but muffled with his Elven boots. Maneuvering to where he was relatively behind the Cyclops and away from its line of site, Marduk watched and waited for the right opportunity to interject.

However, the opportunity seemed to have already made itself apparent upon Marduk's arrival.

As the Fomorian spoke its rudimentary Common, Marduk noticed it was currently embroiled in a contest of muscle against the knight blessed with immense strength. Marduk would also notice that the Fomorian's weight was also focused in one particular direction. Knowing this, and postulating the upper limits of the knight's strength, the Elf-blooded warrior would move quickly to set his plan into motion.

The golden light of his Leargas once again shone and shimmered in his hands, except this time it took the shape of a mighty spear, its head in the shape of a short blade. He had it pointed right at the Fomorian's head, braced to pierce its skull. He made sure to make eye contact with Reinhardt as he set his attack into motion, ensuring that he got the message.

Marduk simply wished to play baseball, and he had hoped that Reinhardt would be up to the bat.