Solus snorts. He turns, knowing he can no longer get involved. Were he to attack Hazama now, Blade would kill him himself, and Solus' magic was useless against the steel will of the ancient warrior. Solus had no wish to face Blade in melee, and did not envy those who had to. Instead of staying around to get insulted, or possibly dragged to an early demise, Solus walks over to Beatrice. "My friend will take this from here. In the meantime, I suggest we leave to retrieve your book." Not even waiting for the Witch, Solus took off, his feathers ruffled by his loss.
----
Blade gave a nod. He had chose his opponent, and the man seemed to be honorable. Blade briefly bowed, his guard never dropping, as a sign of respect. It was all that he had for one that had not yet proven himself, and all that was required before he would take one's life. Such was his way. "Make peace with your Gods, and die with honor. You face my sword this day." With this simple greeting, uttered in almost mechanical tones, the master swordsman blurs forward, moving easily faster than a speeding car, his blade flashing in a barrage of attacks, each swing slicing through the air at hundreds of kilometers per hour, creating a high-pitched whine. Blade was relentless in his onslaught, slowly advancing, his feet remaining stable as he moved.