"Those who use Spirit often follow a philosophy. So, I ask you what is yours? Do you follow a philosophy despite not being of this World?", Salamandor asked.
"Burn as bright as we can.", Wrock answered simply.
"You make a true follower then."
Pang~!
Wrock's fist burned so brightly that sparks decorated the floor when he punched Salamandor's needle weapon.
"Your technique is certainly sharp, but without that young Dragon you'll find your strength falls short!"
Tun-tun-tun-!
{Spirit of the Phoenix: Wing Beat}!
A dull clank against metal rang out as Salamandor parried Wrock's flurry of blows. With a speed unlike anything he had shown before Wrock flapped his wings and circled around Salamandor!
Spirit was nearly weightless. As his took the shape of a flame his burning of energy didn't put any weight on him, and as such the formed wings only served to benefit. Through his incredible practice Wrock was able to fully utilize them almost as if he had been born with the wings.
