[the slight amount of his weight that he placed on her blade is not enough to keep him from being pushed back - from having to leap back so he doesn't lose his blade, and the look in his eyes says that he reads directly through that lie, bitten off as it is.

no matter. deliberately, he raises his hand to pull off the robe he'd been wearing on his shoulders, tossing it aside along with his staff. no advantages with two weapons, no matter how he knows how to fight. no distractions. it is at once gracious and deliberately provocative. as if he doesn't think he needs those to win.

but he doesn't look upset. only thoughtful, considering. evaluating her where she stands. and waiting, like the asshole he is, for her anger to carry her through.]

...This isn't really my way of doing things, you know. Usually, I'd say something to demoralize my enemy, trick them, bring them down until they just give in without me having to lift a finger. But that's not enough for you, is it? Even if I used my power, played on the strength of your commands, told you to yield - that wouldn't satisfy you, no. Because it would be something you understand, if it ended in blood and pain. More true than the truth.