[center][h2][color=b5a0d2][b]⚘[/b]   Steffen Gravinir   [b]⚘[/b][/color][/h2][/center][hr]
He did not expect anything less of Barukstaedians, but what he was a little taken aback of was his sudden aggression, not letting the Ingvarr regain his breathe and charged straight at him with his axe already gleaming for the kill. But the runic armor, the giant two-handed axe and a very committal overhead swing left a rather easy time guessing where that axe was going to go. 

As the axe sped up to the point of no readjustment, Steffen jumped sideways away from the axe's blow, leaving it crashing through where his head had been half a second ago and into the ground, the explosion that came afterwards doing relatively little damage to him aside from a couple rocks flung towards him. As grateful as he is that the Flower of the North immediately took advantage of the moment, and the Sword Sage standing by, the axe-wielder was seemingly unfazed by Fleuri and the axe explosion, something which for any normal person would have maimed or killed. Granted it was likely the result of the runic armor, but this did make things a little tricky. 

Standing up straight, the Ingvarr knight wrapped the hammer back to his waist, and the shield back behind him. Two more weapons made useless against this blessed northern warrior, for magic transcended the physical realm. However, it was not very hard to read between the lines. From that first moment when they both clashed, the magic running its courses through his metallic weapon was not always explosive. If that axe could explode on command, Steffen would have been dead the moment he attempted a contest of strength. 

[color=b5a0d2][i]'That, or he's not a very combat-experienced individual.'[/i][/color]

He wanted to know which one it is.

[color=b5a0d2]"I got the mass, I can hold him down."[/color] Steffen stepped up once again, standing ahead of his two fellow knights, knowing he was the only person capable of holding back this opponent's sheer strength. [color=b5a0d2]"Please be the hammer once the axe lays on the anvil."[/color] 

Once again, the Ingvarr stepped closer to the Barukstaedian, but outside of his axe striking range. But unlike last time, he did not make any attempts to get the first strike in. He maintained his composure and waited for the northerner to make a move, but while also wordlessly conveying his message to him: both his hands raised to his chest level, one in front of the other, the hand closest to his opponent curled into a fist.

[@Crimson Paladin][@Creative Chaos][@Rune_Alchemist][@VitaVitaAR]