At moments like this, he remembered just how dexterous the brute of a man was, flipping as he spun his gargantuan blade as if it were a dagger. The flames that he manifested didn't push off a heat that turned the blades of grass below into ash, but instead boiled his blood with a vigor surpassing his limits; each swing of his sword rattling the forest as it wailed out under his strength. Hulking strength wasn't the only thing Sora relied on; moving his body fluidly and masterfully, landing on one hand and spinning as if shifting into a breakdance routine. Using the momentum of his own legs as the spun above him, he brought himself back to his feet, catching his greatsword that he had flung into the air.
The frail husks that poured out in droves stood no chance against this strength, never coming close as the battle-loving, vermilion man laughed out.
"Weak! Weak! Weak!"