Fission [Open] [Letz Stil Training]

If he was to rise any higher and gain the respect he needed among the ranks, his peers, and his superiors Uriel would need to learn either Volstandig or Letz Stil. In truth the former was so far outside his grasp it wasn't even funny. But what was within his grasp, and his natural talent, was the latter. It was no hidden fact that Uriel was rather gifted in his ability to assert his power over a large area and draw in Reishi. In fact it was something which augmented his powers such that it was a staple of his fighting style. So it wouldn't be too hard for him to set into motion the practice of obtaining Letz Stil.

However, his large prowess and talent proved to be a bit of a problem. The standard training route of using a Sanrei glove was frankly ineffective and inefficient for the man. He needed something far stronger to match his skill level, and normally such a thing would be outside his realms. But with the support of the Vandenreich, and his own position within it, he was able to coordinate with the R and R department for a solution to his issues. As it turned out, a Sanrei glove didn't need to be a glove. It just had to be something which pushed Reishi from him, and something large enough to make a difference.

That was how they settled onto the idea of clothing. Specifically, a cape.

Uriel was a unique case already being a Hybrid, he didn't form a spirit weapon as was typical with most Quincy. He focused his Reishi to empower his body, and his Zanpakatou. It was essentially more raw energy, and helped stabilize the connection betwixt companion and wielder. The cape which now adorned his body, with some aesthetically pleasing choices, had a tangible impact on his ability to draw in Reishi towards him. It was straining in a way which he had not felt since his battle with Helle Armstrong or his beginnings with his powers.

Thus, with the preparations made, Uriel would have secured a training facility to practice this task. For those who wished to join the Administrator, he was currently wearing his battle outfit with the addition of the cape. His armored hands gripping the hilt of his Zanpakatou, fighting shadow opponents as he steadily tried to draw in Reishi. Noticeably, a glow seemed to be emitting from his body. If one was to approach closer, it seemed there was a tangible heat coming from him. The air it's self around him hazy, such as when one looks above a fire. A sweat had formed on his brow, as he six foot eight giant would commit to his training.

Uriel let out a breath which seemed to immediately turn to steam in the room, despite the heat emitting from him he wasn't sweating all the much from that. Instead, to the perceptive eyes of a Quincy they would be able to tell he was steadily drawing Reishi towards him despite the massive resistance his cape was giving. Whatever his reasons the Administrator seemed fully dedicated to the task at hand, requiring a focus and force of will rarely exhibited. But he had to guess he had not risen as far as he had, or gained the power he did, without some level of conviction.

His blue irises would peer towards the fellow Quincy giving them a strained, but well intentioned, smile. It was pleasing to see his offer taken, and despite the circumstances the man seemed to be genuinely happy. "Eisfluch, huh? A Sternritter, fancy seeing you here." He'd jest lightly, clearly poking fun at his branch. While he had no real malice towards any Sternritter, a friendly rivalry between his branch the Todgestalten and them helped spur growth on both sides. With that he'd shift his weight, his hand raising the two-handed sword adopting a balanced stance.

"It'd be nice to have a partner, if you're so inclined."

A grin followed as the words left his lips as the other man raised the bow to him. it appeared this would be a battle between melee weapon, and bow. He had to admit normally such a thing wouldn't favor him. But this was bound to be interesting, particularly being at the disadvantage of having to actively focus on drawing Reishi into his Zanpakatou. Man this was exciting! He hadn't been able to get some training, some harsh training, like this for quite some time. As he eye'd the bow waiting for the first arrow, he'd adjust his grip to a more offensive style as the tip of his blade lowered towards the ground nearly touching it. He'd favor his left side as the tip was pointing behind him.

A traditional sword fighting stance, but certainly interesting for this encounter. He'd make the first move. His muscles would coil and tighten as he took a step forward so quickly that it seemed unnatural, but it was not a movement technique. Instead it was raw physicality, as a small wind force was generated from such movement. His body rushing towards Eisfluch, attempting to cross the short distance between them. The tip of his Zanpakatou would drag against the ground creating sparks while it cleanly cut a thin line unto the floor, either from his strength, his powers, or the reishi enhancement. However, as Uriel approached the heat which he had exuded seem to be more keenly focused around his sword enough to actually cause discomfort and outright minor burns if close enough for long enough.

Provided Eisfluch decided to shoot an arrow towards him, Uriel would raise his sword early to slash at the energy and attempt to close the distance via arcing the sword downward towards them. A testing strike.

The measure of a man was not the amount of success he had gathered in his life, but how many burdens he has endured. It was not the pedigree of a man that made him worthy, but the conflict he endured to achieve what he has. In this clashing of soldiers from far different backgrounds, with their own ideologies, whom sought to uphold them their own way, there was an immense joy in Uriel's heart. In the vibrant blue irises of Uriel he watched the arrow speed towards him, moving with precision only achieved through dedication. Every inch coming close, and closer, until his own blade met said arrow dispersing the energy.

Even as he approached the man with his own offensive, and their reaction away, Uriel did not grimace in frustration. Instead his lips pulled themselves back, his teeth bearing themselves in a wide grin. The special operations leader reveled in this. To the uninitiated of Uriel some might thing this was a blood lust, some primal uncivilized manner of barbarism. But it ran deeper than that, as his foot steps slammed against the ground moving towards Alastair there was passion to it. As his eyes quickly followed the aiming of the other man, he'd peel off to the side as debris kicked upwards from such a powerful and sudden turn.

"Tell me, Alastair, do you know why so many associate glory with conflict!?" Uriel would call as he moved along the side of the arena, his movements unlike the other quincy. Instead of a high speed movement technique, his body moved unnaturally quickly. It almost seemed impractical as every step crushed the ground beneath him, throwing material into the air as dust and rock. "It is because there can be no glory without risk! The more you wager, the more you stand to lose, the greater and truer the victory." He'd invoke with such sentiment, such fervent belief, that it was almost strange a man of his character didn't join the Sternritters.

He pivoted once more moving towards Alastair as he aimed low, for a moment appearing as if he was going to take the strike head on. But instead he performed a mad act, perhaps even insane. He jumped. More than that, he threw himself forward in a grand leap with his head first, the arrow passing but a hand width away from his chest. As he traded all mobility, all sense, to do something which no one would expect. His blade raised high in one hand, his other outstretched before him seeking to either act as a shield or grasp Alastair. Although, the speed and surprise of this made it unlike for Alastair to shoot and arrow or move.

"And what wager could be more than your honor, your blood, or your life? To put your character to the test, win or lose, is that not the grandest prize of all!?" The soldier-warrior would cry as he either made contact with Alastair, barreling into him seeking to bright down his blade upon him or use his body as a battering ram. All the while his Reiatsu rising, the cape on his body now quite literally set aflame. He was close, so close.

A flicker of orange-reddish reiatsu seemed to flake off his skin, like that of ember prepared to set a wicker house ablaze.

How much was he willing to sacrifice for victory? It was a marvelous concept. In some respects he greatly respected such an ideology, it didn't conflict with his own. But there was a difference to it, a starkness in their views which separated them. In truth, it wouldn't be all that inaccurate to say they where mirrors of each other. That should they switch places in the organization, they both might be better suited to the other. But in truth, they both held their reasons to embark on the paths they've chosen. The circumstances of their their destinies led them down different paths.

It perhaps in this regard, tragic, the paths they both traveled.

The world seemed to slow as they began towards collision. The arc of Alastair's bow towards Uriel, swung like a blunt object rather than the fine weapon it was. The hand of Uriel moving to meet the said object, until finally they struck. His fingers closing around the object at the moment the blast was released, unbeknownst to Uriel. Searing hot pain seemed to erupt in his hand, had his bones not been reinforced there might be a good chance said fingers would be gone. However, this did little for the skin and nails on his hand.

The armor on his hand was blown away, as much of the force was smothered absorbed directly by his hand. The skin blasting off hand along with nails, leaving a fleshy reddened mess of nerves and muscles. Crimson ichor scattering across them both. Searing pain shooting up his arm. But ah, how well fought this was. As their bodies inched ever closer, the wolfish grin on Uriel's face displayed it all. It spoke volumes, not a single word needing to leave his mouth.

'Was this sacrifice, enough?'

Their bodies would collide collide, however, in such a way which would not realistically allow Uriel to bring his blade down. Instead his armored shoulder would seek to find purchase into Alastair's chest, or face, intending to send both backwards. Uriel crashing into the ground regardless, rolling for a bit as he got to his feet with remarkable quickness. His Zanpakatou stabbing into the ground as he got upwards, his left hand being brought to his face to inspect it. It was steadily dripping dark crimson, which elicited a grim chuckle from the man.

"Surprising move." He'd remark steadily as he closed his bloodied hand into a fist, as blood seemed to pour out of the hand unto the floor. "I think it's time, I got serious." Uriel would remark as his he lifted his Zanpakatou, raising it steadily towards the sky. The temperature of the room began to rise, quite rapidly, as his reiatsu spiked.

"Cast your gaze, and sacrifice your sight, Sol."

An explosion of heat, and reiatsu was felt. Waves of pressure emitting from the Shinigami as his longsword began to transform. Casting it's self in flames, the weapon would begin to widen and growth until the two-handed sword was noticeably thicker. His cape at this point seemed to approaching white-hot, as the sudden pressure of the room was pulled inward towards him as a sweat formed on his brow. His teeth clinching into a tight smile. This was his Shikai, and soon, he'd be able to tap into that greater depths of power.

"Men often confuse foolishness and bravery within the same breath, not which they shall be when the dust settles. If my victory was decided by Luck, then I shall thank God for favoring me." He'd offer a cheeky grin, as his head tilted. He could feel the dampened effect of his flames due to how close to midnight it was. Annoying to say the least, but it did help equalize this fight a bit. At least in terms of raw energy. It'd make things more interesting. His bloodied hand would raise upwards once more closing in a fist pointing to Alastair.

"Come at me, let us see what you are willing to wager. What you are willing to sacrifice. Let's go!"

He'd shout at the man, his face holding a wide, welcoming, grin.

"A man after my own heart."

Uriel would let out a dry chuckle, his injured hand lowering from Alastair while he actives his own transform. The bloodied hand would come to grip the handle of his Zanpakatou. Whatever pain he felt was replaced with the overwhelming desire and anticipation. He could hear his heart pounding in his ear, the rush of blood in his system as his augmented body seemed to thrive in this situation. Even now witnessing the release of his companion, he couldn't help but admire them in a similar fashion they did himself. This was what it meant to be human, to struggle against limitations.

As Alastair swooped towards Uriel his eyes would narrow, as his power reached new profound heights. Although, notably, his cape seemed to beginning to catch fire. Flickering on and off light a fire which struggled to catch a proper spark. The hands upon his sword would twist, turning the blade to meet against Alastair's, a shower of sparks and flames exploding outwards as the Quincy's met. Uriel being forced backwards from such an action, his feet sliding back against the ground. The difference in their power was tangible, even with Uriel nearing his theoretical lowest point in power.

To hell with it then.

Instead of preparing to meet him with another attack, as he slide backwards a small orb of burning energy would form at the tip of his sword. Perhaps no larger than a fist, the solid burning mass would shoot upwards in the air, most likely intending to draw the attention of Alastair. Before another orb would form in rapid succession at the tip of his blade, Uriel swinging his sword to his side as a burst of air pressure caused him to stop sliding. His eyes rapidly tracking the movement of Alastair, deciding his next move. The orb which shot into the air would float in the middle of the room, meanwhile Uriel adjusted his grip to that more suited for thrusting his sword.

If Alastair swooped downwards once more, Uriel would thrust his sword forward. Regardless if they met or not, Uriel would activated his ability 'Flare.' As the orb within the sky would explode with very little actual force, however, a burning bright light would fill the air similar to flashbang. So bright that if looked at directly by the average human, they could suffer from serious eye damage. The goal of this was to blind, or otherwise hamper, Alastair. Allow Uriel to thrust his Zanpakatou with the orb at it's tip directly into his wing and/or arm. Should the orb strike, it would burn hot enough to lead to some serious damage (though it would be contained to the size of a small fist) and fill as solid as a rock.