The Grandmaster's Call[Cyrus, Natasha]

"Flowers? Oh my. Don't go makin' me blush before the big match now, Grandmaster. If it suits your fancy, though, go right on ahead'. I reckon it'd be mighty flatterin' if ya did'."

She could have reeled in the charm herself, of course, but it was inevitable that she'd present that side of herself to a man she held in high regard. A total lack of restraint were the exact measures she felt proved resourceful in allowing others to adapt to her pace, and he seemed to be adapting just fine. Those parting words would prove the end of their exchange, though. Battle was near.

Natasha hadn't been blowing smoke up his ear when she encouraged him just now. No, she genuinely believed the man had more to offer as their leader. He had something to show, and she was going to draw it out no matter how far she pushed him. As expected, there was a modest array of civilians who currently occupied seats in the arena, a far cry from the attendance seen in an official Seaside match.

Even so, that suited her just fine. She wasn't particularly eager to show off for any soul reapers today. No, this was a battle for the eyes of the Vandenreich and the civilians who believed in them. A grand display of the respective talents of Grandmaster and Coordinator. Shuffling her feet from side to side, she tapped into her unique brand of spellcraft. In the blink of an eye, after cultivating the ambient reishi rippling through the air, two pistols materialized within the palms of her hands.

In the next instant, Cyrus fired his arrow to signal the beginning of their battle, seizing the first move without hesitation. The holy arrow slashed through the air in a precise line, crashing against her rising forearms, quickly fortified by the defensive system of blut to defend against his initial attack. The Heilig Pfiel he employed packed a mightier punch than the average arrow - certainly more than she was typically accustomed to - sending her flying a few meters through the air. Half of it, naturally, was a bit of a sell, though, and she wasted no time in regaining her momentum, somersaulting through the air as she lifted her two pistols, firing off two rounds of reishi in response.

"Taking charge already, Grandmaster? Bold and straight to the point just how I like it. Come on, let's see what else ya' got!"

"The very best then, for the lovely lady."

Bringing up the cape that he wore, Cyrus quickly muttered a short incantation, a brief prayer of reinforcement that filled the cloth with reishi for only a moment. Her spirit weapon was certainly notable, that much was immediately apparent, but Cyrus' spellcraft wasn't so weak that he was unable to block two shots. His family's style was one of careful, powerful shots, and he wouldn't move unless forced to move.

Another shot fired toward Natasha, and then another. Each one was calculated, powerful. Cyrus drew back the string of his spirit weapon, but he didn't fire just yet. He needed to watch, wait. Wherever she moved, he'd fire. It was as simple as that.

There was an admirably methodical approach to Cyrus' form of combat as a Quincy. Each arrow was fired with purposeful poise, never in haste, released with seamless accuracy and utmost precision in mind. Before she even landed, two arrows, equally precise as the first, followed along a similar pattern in the air. Her eyes tracked the trajectory of the first allowing her to shift her body through midair, but the second rings true, casting her body even further into the air.

From her airborne position, Natasha quickly devised a plan to force the grandmaster into motion. Two measly shots were not going to do her any favors, and as though recognizing that, she would set into action as two platforms of reishi manifests across her feet.

Using those platforms as a springboard, Natasha would descend from above, targeting him with pistols in hand. Firing two bullets from the chambers of her pistols, the sternritter coordinator would land in the pavilion once more, charging forward in attempt to face him head on, firing two more bullets in quick succession.

Even with shots firing toward him, Cyrus didn't waver for the slightest moment, hardening his body with Blut Vene as he maintained his aim. Was it a matter of them not hurting him? No, hardly. Cyrus was not the same god among men that he had once been, and he understood perfectly well that he was more vulnerable than he had been in countless years. But what had not been lost was his mind of steel.

Only after Natasha had begun to run toward him did Cyrus let loose his next arrow, the shot streaking through the air toward her even as it barreled past her own shots. He was struck again, her bullets mitigated but not completely nullified by his blut, but that was irrelevant to him. He simply drew back the string yet again, eyes unwavering and sure as he prepared for Natasha's next move.

Natasha expected nothing less from the Grandmaster. In the face of each gunshot, he remained unbending, offering no quarter of movement in his stationary position. He steeled himself in preparation for each attack, readied his bow whenever he found an opening. Like a textbook archer in his natural element, he appeared as though he would move only when he was forced to. What could she do to make him move then? That train of thought would be cut briefly by another arrow that slashed through the air toward her. Surrendering herself wholly to her charge eliminated any opportunity of shifting her body away from that arrow, but there was never an intention to run away to begin with.

Tapping into her own defensive system of Blut, Natasha rushed forward as that powerful beam of light rung true against her frame. A momentary pause followed as her feet were pressed back a few meters, the proof of damage found in the light bruises peppering her arms and forehead, but she charged ahead, powering through it with sheer determination. Lifting her two pistols forward, gathering reishi through their respective chambers, Natasha fired four more shots, each converging on their target with more force than those she had employed before.

One more arrow shot forward, and then Cyrus dismissed his bow, at least for now. The heilig pfeil flew into Natasha's bullets. colliding with each and refusing to bend in its path. Such was the nature of Cyrus' arrows, after all, to simply move forward until nothing of them remained. Raising his other hand, Cyrus spoke in a firm, confident voice, reishi coalescing around his hand.

"Here I look at the moon, here I perceive the moon; here I look at the light of the moon, here i perceive the light of the moon."

His left hand coated in the familiar blue glow of a Quincy's power, Cyrus stepped upward with Hirenkyaku, giving himself a vantage point even if only for this briefest of moments.

"Mah Yasht."

As the aria was finished, the light on his hand exploded outward, an array of spiritual shots not unlike the volleys most Quincy achieved simply through use of their bow. But Cyrus had adapted to his own weapon, grown stronger to cover its weaknesses. He had learned, and would continue to learn, until he had surpassed everything that he once was. A greater Quincy, a greater leader, a greater man.

Those arrows of his were certainly demanded a measure of her respect, and the slightest bit of disbelief. No matter how many bullets she employed, they were met with an equal resistance that seemed to outweigh them in a contest of overall force. It was becoming abundantly clear that besting him in a contest of Heilig Pfeil required answering with firepower equal to or greater than his own. His bow dismissed, Natasha kept her hazel eyes locked on any movement or discrepancy in his flow. She found that there was none.

What did follow however was a chant in a firm and deep voice. In the blink of an eye, Hirenkyaku raised his body upward into the air as his aria ended. Upon its conclusion, a numerous array of arrows rained down on her from above. It was difficult to evade them all entirely, which left her susceptible to a moderate form of damage that impeded her Hirenkyaku movements, ever so slightly, but far from enough to keep her from pushing forward to return the favor.

"Turning things up a notch, huh, sweetheart? My oh my, I dare not fall behind. Lemme return the favor, alright~?"

Her arms raised upward as she slammed her guns together, manipulating the reishi within her hands, transmuting two pistols into the shape of an assault rifle. Starpacker was ideal for battles that required answering a volley of arrows with her own myriad of multiple shots. Absorbing some of the reishi being provided amidst this ceaseless wave of shots, Natasha leaped upward, her rifle poised in his direction.

In that next instant, after the necessary reishi had accumulated, the muzzle of her assault rifle released it's own valley of spirit bullets, each collapsing toward Cyrus like a collection of shooting stars. She enjoyed what she saw so far. She wanted to push this man. Wanted him to instill hope in the hearts of the people. Him rising to the occasion only made her all the more happier.

Interesting. That was a quite elaborate spirit weapon already, and as each attack from mah Yasht crashed against Natasha's shots, he had already raised his hand upward, reishi coalescing into a small, glowing blue sphere. Utilizing a second spell would take too much time, but a follow-up? That was another matter.

"Hail to thee when we look at thee. Hail to thee when thou lookest at us."

The remaning shots which had yet to make contact began to double back, orbiting around the sphere in his palm before he tossed it downward toward her, finishing the incantation firmly.

"Mah Yasht - Nemo Manghai."

Before it actually met Natasha, however, the ball of reishi stopped in mid-air, firing off its remaining shots and continuing to barrel against Natasha's heilig pfeil. Cyrus, meanwhile, brought himself back to the ground, shifting his blut to arterie as he shot toward Natasha with hirenkyaku, his fist already shooting toward her midsection. He was aware of the risk in such an approach, but such was the nature of a battle. He had avoided risk long enough, and he had no intention to continue doing so.

Christ, this man certainly was full of surprises, wasn't he? In the midst of these shots colliding against the other, he employed another spell that left her raising her eyebrow in curiosity. Did he intend to increase the firepower in this clash of bullets and arrows? Or was there some secondary purpose behind his next chant? Possessing no ounce of an inkling either way, she simply danced to rhythm of the battlefield. She found that the rhythm was built rather unique the more the battle continued. All those shots that threatened to earn purchase were drawn back unto each other until they formed a sphere of reishi.

At the moment his incantation finished, that sphere came barreling down toward her---only to split into a series of Heilig Pfeil that continued to collide with her own. Of course, in the midst of the whirlwind of energy, she didn't expect the Grandmaster to dart forward and approach her at close range. It was perhaps, because of that betrayal in expectation, that Cyrus' fist was easily able to earn purchase against her midsection, forcing her to falter ever so slightly in wielding her gun. Of course, she maintained a confident expression as she turned to him even in the midst of this ceaseless wave of energy.

"Gettin' up close and personal now, are we~? Color me surprised, Grandmaster. I reckon all I viewed you as was an archer at heart, but don't take that as a complaint. I'm actually havin' fun, sweetheart! How about you?"

Pivoting her body to the right, she aimed to return the favor by sweeping her leg across his own in an effort to throw off his balance, holding her gun at the ready to go in for a follow up on offense.

Cyrus realized, in only a matter of moments, that he had grossly underestimated the actual capabilities of his opponent. He knew the general skill and power of all those beneath him, certainly, but specifics simply weren't feasible for him to know.

All of that was to say that Natasha's sweep was more than sufficient to throw Cyrus off balance. He'd known perfectly well that he would not win this little bout, and so he didn't mind it. Cyrus simply hit the floor with a smile, and looked up to her with hands raised.

"Well, I am certainly having a good time as well, Miss Miller. Though I must admit that I didn't anticipate your touch being quite so overwhelming."

It was simply a playful quip, of course, flirting only in the most lighthearted sense. In truth, he would have rather liked to go again, though at his level, he doubted he could put up a particularly worthwhile fight again.