Chalk it up to his training across different Divisions, but Makoto's hand to hand was just about as good as his zanjutsu. It didn't matter what type of sword his opponent was actually using, a slash like the one Sigurd made was just like any other. Makoto leaned back slightly, and lowered his hand under his own midsection. Then, when the blade came, he pushed up against the flat to push it up, parrying the strike with his hand and ducking underneath to get closer to his opponent. Underneath the blade, Makoto pushed his own body up in an attempt to hold his opponent in place by bracing him from the back and legs, like a hug, though less to keep his opponent in place and more to keep him close to his opponent.

"Excuse me, darling," Makoto's eye twitched, "but could you please stop with that? The posturing, I mean. It's something I prefer to do?" It was clear that he didn't like how much his opponent spoke between swings. At that moment, "choose, Soutoubushin" had taken effect. The dice that had been so easily flicked off landed on the ground had landed on a 2, the two black dots facing the night sky beginning to glow before the light enveloped the entire structure. In its place was a more European styled long sword.

"Return, Soutoubushin." Makoto said, clinging tightly to his opponent. As he did, Soutoubushin rattled, then floated into the air. It turned around to its blade side then flew toward Makoto and Sigurd. Particularly, it looked like it was flying toward Sigurd's head.

His sword being brushed aside by his opponent's hand, and the Shinigami grappling him were both minor annoyances in Sigurd's eyes. He was amused enough by the attempt, however, and when he noticed a weapon more similar to his own than the original flying towards his head he chuckled slightly. Sliding his left foot into a slightly better position, the Norseman snapped his hips and rotated his upper body, spinning himself free of the other man's hold and deflected the other longsword off to the side once more, backing away enough so that he was no longer between the Shinigami and his Zanpakuto. Glaring at the other man, he'd crack his neck, his blade never leaving it's guard even as he spoke. "Posturing? It's adorable that you think I'm pumping myself up more than I'm capable of delivering. I have not once lied to you in this battle, or said anything that I am not willing to back one hundred percent. For example, my name truly is Sigurd, my blade is capable of cutting through nearly anything, and I have more combat experience than nearly anyone you've met. In fact, I was once known as the King of Warriors. Now then, unless you truly wish to insult me, tell me your name. It's only polite."

Something that the Shinigami would have noticed is that in that last maneuver, Sigurd's movements were more fluid than before, and he was stronger and faster than he had been in the beginning of this little duel. In fact, while it would have to be tested in close combat, the Norseman would seem to be twice as strong and twice as fast as his opponent. Add that on top of the fact that his reiatsu was already twice as strong as the Shinigami's Shikai, and there was the makings of an absolute monster.

Another thing he might notice, depending on his knowledge of the various mythologies and spiritual cultures of the world, is that the title of King of Warriors, along with the name Sigurd and the sword Gram all stemmed back to the Volsunga Saga, speaking of a legendary swordsman born to the line of Odin himself, one who slew a dragon more powerful than any Hollow that the Gotei has ever recorded save perhaps the first two. While it is true that the man before him would be nowhere near as strong as such a creature, it was also said that the demigod in question was killed long ago by one of his brothers-in-law, stabbed through the chest in his sleep. Of course, he didn't allow himself to die before killing the person who had stabbed him, and confessing his love.

The scar over his heart was peaking ominously through his shirt once more.

Abilities Used:

"Fine." Makoto sighed after recovering. When his opponent drew out of the grapple, Makoto turned to face his opponent. He reached his left hand back and his zanpakuto flew to his left side and the handle slid into the shinigami's hand. He plucked it out of the air as if it were a feather, then placed his right hand on it just under the crossguard. Makoto was considered a lieutenant level shinigami. As it stood, Makoto figured that his opponent was roughly about twice his strength. More impressively, the man's visible spiritual pressure must have been four times larger than Makoto's. In a straightforward battle, there was no way Makoto could win in such an engagement.

"I'll admit, I am impressed. Immortal King of Warriors or not, your showing is quite remarkable for a human." Makoto said, standing off against his opponent, who seemed very much intent to at least challenge Makoto. "If you must know, I've recently received the rank of Lieutenant. So you could call me Lieutenant Amada, of the 5th Division of the Gotei 6." He finally introduced himself.

Still, with how powerful his opponent had become, Makoto began to realize it was a mistake to challenge him. His first mistake as a lieutenant. Makoto raised his zanpakuto, took a deep breath, and with a small flash of light, his zanpakuto reverted to its dice shape, then back to its sealed state. Then, Makoto sheathed the weapon back by his hip. "If you may be so kind, I'd like to stop our fight before it has adverse effects on the local inhabitants," Makoto said. Normally he didn't care about those who lacked spiritual pressure- they didn't matter to him. As a lieutenant, however, suddenly there was no one protecting him if he caused collateral damage.

More importantly, Makoto hoped that the sudden surge of energy was enough to act as bait.

Lifting an eyebrow, Sigurd would nod his head in a curt, polite manner before manifesting a black scabbard with silver accents and a piece of black fabric attached, sheathing his sword before the two dissipated to wherever they were kept. Letting out a breath, all the tension in the man's body escaped and his face softened into a more neutral, kinder expression. The reiatsu in the area let up it's active pressure, leaving itself as an ominous feeling in the air while the Norseman's scar and skin quit glowing. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he'd chuckle slightly before responding to the Shinigami's words, his voice once more silky and polite instead of one suited to a hardened warrior. "Of course. The last thing either of us wants is for innocents to get hurt. I doubt that the two of us meeting was mere chance, and perhaps the next time it will be as allies. After all, it is a common belief that those who clash blades bare their hearts to one another."

Looking up at the stars, a content smile covered Sigurd's face. "A gorgeous night, isn't it? Be sure to enjoy as much of it as you can. I suspect that it's not yet over."

With that, Sigurd disappeared into a burst of Blur.

[Thread Exit]

"Well darling. You're more level headed than you look." Makoto remarked. Before he could continue his sentence, however, the human had disappeared. "Humans." Makoto sighed. Makoto crossed his legs and sat down as he focused on the area around him. He couldn't quite make out any damage to the surrounding area, save for the fountain the human had destroyed. As a lieutenant, however, he had enough authority to get such a trivial thing fixed right away. The real issue, however, was that despite the flare-up of spiritual power, nothing else came about it. Were the hollow too afraid? No. His enemy was not a hollow. His enemy was his former captain.

Whatever the issue was, it raised more questions than it answered. This town was going to go under much more scrutiny under the 5th squad...