The tip of Garret's spear dripped with crimson, the full impact of the gravity-warping polearm utilized. This wasn't the flashy staff-like combat he'd been utilizing earlier, meant to incapacitate rather than seriously wound. His strikes were aimed true, and the full intention was to make the fucker ahead of him bleed. Trace talked a lot of shit and seemed threatening enough to back it up, but in the heat of the moment, he didn't care. Alan might have been a stranger, but god damn it he was a kid, and to Garret anyone who hurt a kid was just another monster to be hunted. With the impact of his second strike to Trace's torso, Garret doubled down on the gravitational force behind it, the spear kicking dirt up off the ground to a significant height. After the strike, he launched himself up and away without touching the floor himself, a burst of force sending him flying over towards the courier.<br/><br/>When he came to his stance near Alex, he rolled his shoulders and idly spun his spear around in the hand that wielded it. "Alright, you batshit little cock. Maybe if you turn around and run back to whatever loony bin shat you out, I won't have to crush every bone in your body," He threateningly spat out at Trace. He awaited the inevitable threats to come his way, unhinged screeching about how a child had killed so many people, things like that. During that period, he spoke in hushed tones to Alexander. "While he's pissing himself crying at me, take out his joints. That gun-sword-thing of yours looks like it could break through an elbow or two." With that, he then burst forward once again, slashing his spear across the ground as he moved somewhat erratically. The line he left began to explode with gravitational disturbances a few moments later, creating a cloud of sand to reduce Trace's visibility of the others.<br/><br/>As he continued to keep himself aloft, Garret spun around to slash at Trace with the sides of his spear's long blade, accompanying each possible strike with a heavy burst of power to enhance the physical impact behind each one. He retreated almost immediately after every one, moving from one place to another and reaching impressive heights just to rush downward and stab at his target with exceptional precision. The whole time, he spat out insults from his homeland's vernacular, some of which were more indecipherable than others, but all of them carrying the same clear message. He wanted this little shit out of his way.