But the knights of the south were as strong as an ox, that was the minimum required to begin to be considered a knight in service to the warking, stopping the violent strike of a heavy mace with only a single hand, the male knight soon grabbed the handle itself, forcing the headless be taken for a short spin, the being in white sent away as the mace dispersed into a haze of purple, clapping both hands together, manifested a sword in each hand, the design of each of the weapons he had brought forth was never seen before by the knights, forged out of unknown black iron, with mysterious techniques.
Striking a particular pose, arms crossed, blades close to his collar, slashing with both at the air before once again engaging the knights, this time however, the headless pointed at the closest one.
"Is it casting a spell?" asked the man.