Wiping off a bead of sweat from his forehead, he took in a deep breath of the cool night air and tried to refine his current stance, drawing his Masamune back in a dual-grip. Despite the relaxed smile on his face, his lithe body was tensed like a steel spring as he waited for Meliadoul's next assault. Though he was considerably outmatched in a dual of blades, to put it nicely, he was still able to hold his own against one of the Knights Templar, warriors of such elite calibur only the High Confessor could command them. Ignoring the slight night breeze and the chirping of some nearby birds, the black-haired Ark Knight actually<em>beckoned </em>her with one palm, the cool smile morphing into a direct mirror of the Divine Knight's smirk.