Ripper Blast was a technique that had served him well in the past, and one he'd whipped out instinctively once he'd caught the perfect opening for it, but Claude was still stunned when he saw how effective it'd been against Dias. Maybe his rival hadn't expected such a significant difference from the last time they'd fought. Hell, Claude himself had never really had much of a chance to reflect too much on how much his fighting techniques had evolved since the mayor of Arlia had given him his first longsword. There had never been time for that kind of thinking, not when he'd been anxious that his skills wouldn't be enough to counter the terrible threat looming on Energy Nede.
But that was then, and this was now. His gaze focused on Dias, bruised and bleeding from that last round, though certainly ready for more if his defensive posture was anything to go by. Still, even though Claude saw an opportunity to rush at the man, he was suddenly struck by the realization that this was far more than a simple sparring match. This was even more serious than the Tournament of Arms.
Instead, a single thought resonated through him, chilling him into his very core.
This was a battle to the death.
And while such conflicts weren't a new concept to Claude by any means, this was the first time he'd had to face off against someone he genuinely respected like this. Instinctively, Claude's gaze darted across the walls, the hostages, the invisible barrier, the ceiling, and then Martin Landel himself. They were completely boxed in with no way out. Just how the hell were they supposed to find a way out of this without losing one of their own? He certainly didn't give a damn about Sync, but what about Dias, Guy and himself? What about the ladies in the spectators' seats?
If the Head Doctor was expecting him to actually try to end Dias' life, Claude didn't think -- no, he knew he couldn't just force himself to go through with it as if it were as easy as flipping a switch. There were hostages involved, yes, but that didn't make a fight to the death any easier to deal with!
Perspiration rolled down the blond's brow as he held his own sword in a defensive position. Deep down, he was hoping he could mask his hesitation and uncertainty as some sort of tactic that required waiting for Dias to make the first move.
Re: Coliseum Floor - South
But that was then, and this was now. His gaze focused on Dias, bruised and bleeding from that last round, though certainly ready for more if his defensive posture was anything to go by. Still, even though Claude saw an opportunity to rush at the man, he was suddenly struck by the realization that this was far more than a simple sparring match. This was even more serious than the Tournament of Arms.
Instead, a single thought resonated through him, chilling him into his very core.
This was a battle to the death.
And while such conflicts weren't a new concept to Claude by any means, this was the first time he'd had to face off against someone he genuinely respected like this. Instinctively, Claude's gaze darted across the walls, the hostages, the invisible barrier, the ceiling, and then Martin Landel himself. They were completely boxed in with no way out. Just how the hell were they supposed to find a way out of this without losing one of their own? He certainly didn't give a damn about Sync, but what about Dias, Guy and himself? What about the ladies in the spectators' seats?
If the Head Doctor was expecting him to actually try to end Dias' life, Claude didn't think -- no, he knew he couldn't just force himself to go through with it as if it were as easy as flipping a switch. There were hostages involved, yes, but that didn't make a fight to the death any easier to deal with!
Perspiration rolled down the blond's brow as he held his own sword in a defensive position. Deep down, he was hoping he could mask his hesitation and uncertainty as some sort of tactic that required waiting for Dias to make the first move.