Mud hits the already bloodied edges of his visor. Birds fly around him, sending annoying clacks of beak against steel. A cacaphony of screaming girls and animals wasn't the typical sound of battle, but he'd practically been trained since childhood to sort through the bloody chaos. He'd fight them all like he fought the others.

Adrenaline burns away the pain and the weariness, but only temporarily. Beneath the heavy shadows of his visor, he fixes on the old warrior with the same cold killer's gaze that had no business being on a face that young. Anger lights his limbs on fire with new vigor as the group circled around him. Attack, attack, attack!

Guts meets her blow for blow, deflecting the blade with a strength that was incongrous with his smaller size. It rattles the metal when they touch, chipping and damaging the edge, pushing forward with every step. He wasn't afraid to get up close and personal, leaping up to headbutt her jaw with the bottom of his helmet the moment he gets an opening. Partial armor is partial armor, and he intends to make full use of it.