He ignored the crowd, his stance shifting to one of his martial arts that just happened to have a blade in one hand. "The only rules was 'rapiers to the first blood.' Nothing about fists, which I excel with, as opposed to a weapon I have barely any grounding with. You chose to try and neuter me in combat, so I am leveling the field a bit. Of course, feel free to use magic if you must; I am sure you are better than a 'mere human' that has barely any grounding there too."<br/><br/>He was... displeased, having been slapped, and while he knew the fury wasn't entirely rational, he didn't bother curbing it. He stalked forward slowly, the blade held in an unorthodox position now, meant to defend against blows, though he could lash out with it, despite having a shorter range for it in the held position. These beings didn't improvise, didn't change, didn't improve. Except maybe Leanansidhe. Hence why they had to have a mortal as their knight, someone that could adapt to changes around them. They were powerful, but static, like the defenses at the Normandy beaches in World War Two. Difficult to take down, but once they were, they had no way to replace them at any sane speed, so they were loathe to risk. A knight, however, was inherently a risk taker, hence why he got missions that, for most Fae, would be impossible. They had stagnated, and he figured part of his duties were showing them that change, while it was shocking and different, wasn't always a bad thing. 'We try things, and sometimes they even work.' It was almost the human race's motto.<br/><br/>He shook his head slightly, and set himself, before he continued slowly edging forward, a feral smile on his face, stalking his opponent.