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Lee stopped chanting and looked up... 'it's time to end this...' the ground continued to shake.. he started running.. quickening his pace.. he matched her pace easily as she became visiblle to him ... he moved quickly behind her... he tried to slash at her from behind with his sword..

His opponent took off all at once, throwing knives. Rivven reacted as soon as the wrist snapped, lifting his hands while sliding a foot backward to buy himself an extra split second he wouldn't likely need. Holding his hands out together as flat palms, he let the thin knife blade slip between them and stop when his fingertips hit the hilt, as the other knives flew past him in either direction. Breathing calmly and not making himself tense so early, he grabbed the hilt of the stopped blade between two fingers and a thumb of one hand, spinning it around and tucking it into his belt beside his dagger with a fluid motion, and made a single symbol with one hand, leaving the other free, and then flicking the posing hand several times. The moisture in the arena ground, what little there was near the surface, collected around his feet and filtered up, and the air elsewhere grew dry as water vapors in the vacinity all collected around him. The water in the air around him spun slowly, creating a flow of the moisture, palpable though still weak. With his reactionary defense in place, he began drawing more moisture from the air, and water pockets down below the earth, approaching his opponent with slow balanced steps, as the larger area pull quickly collected water, becoming visible as a ring by his feet. The next time his opponent moved, perhaps he could learn something useful; throwing knives at a reluctant adversary was a plausible trick, but not anything novel.

Charles smirked as his assumption was confirmed, and felt a twinge of being impressed by the man who decided not to run from his knives. The Chauffeur made a mental note to get his knife back from this guy.

He watched as Rivven started pulling from his bag of tricks, collecting water around him. Moisture guy, eh? Looks like I shouldn't be too bored now. Time to let this guy make the next move; can't be the first to do everything, can we, Charlie-boy?

Charles stood his ground, grasping his knives in his hands as they rapidly returned to him. "Appreciate it," he said, and then, without hesitation, returned the knives to their sheaths and jumping backwards, getting more distance between himself and his opponent.

Should've probably stoppped him from gathering all that water, he thought. Then again, I should have probably learned some magics sometime in my life.... psh, like I would have learned magic!

Charles was a patient guy, he would wait and see what Rivven was about before he'd get serious.

Saitre stood up, and headed for the stadium exit. She would return later, hoping to catch the end of one of the battles.

((Ack! So short... gonk ))

As the chain suddenly went limp in his hands, Rivven let it drop, reevaluating the scythe as the greater challenge it now seemed. If it could do that weapons were out of the question, and close combat was unlikely to come up as long as his opponent continued trying to keep his distance, so his only plausible option would be to take to his magic, and do as much at once as he could to keep his opponent off gaurd. Usually Rivven was the one who watched patiently for an opponent to give him an oppening or display a weakness, or even the extent of his power before acting, and this match had started seeming the same way, but things had changed as soon as his opponent became inactive. Now that he was on offensive, there was no choice but to continue as needed.
His opponents hand swung toward him, and with a shock stirring himself out of his rapidly flying thoughts, he saw the gun in his hand. Rivven fell flat over on his back atop the water, drawing all of it to his side, and creating a wall to ubstruct his opponents aim, though he had just managed to duck the first rounds. With all the water on his side, he saw an oppening, letting a small bit of it carry him hurriedly away, he brought the other water to the wall in it's flow his way, and with it no longer spread over the entire arena, there was quite a lot. He brought it back onto his opponent's position with crushing force, sliding to his feet and hurriedly pulling water upward as he did so. A decently challenging fight already, if his opponent showed any magic display he thought he might actually lose; but if he proved to have less magic talent than physichal things looked upward, though Rivven knew quite well not to judge for risk of underestimating.

((Ah, but we've forgotten; wet firearms have a great chance of misfiring. Of course I wouldn't know how great, but I know it's there. Anyway, I think if we're to keep our match short as promised, we'll have to bring it up to the climax right about now.))

Bullets again...! Rivven slid quickly sideways, bending low at the waist to lessen the size of himself as a target, and darting this way and that atop the quickly respreading water; a traight he tried to mimic in water, it quickly was able to retain equilibrium. But he did notice the blood dripping from what once again be an open wound; the doctor had done amazing things for it, but he supposed he was pushing such a large cut too hard and too soon. All the better for him if he stopped screwing around, in this fight he was so enjoying, and try to advance his offensive. "Well mister Chauffuer, I'm enjoying this match, and would hope you are as well, but I'm a busy man, and would assume you are likewise; so, whatsay we forget all our cautionary, thought, stop saving for later and bring this show to it's big finish. At this pace I beleive we both very well might keep up this fight well into tomorrow, and I simply don't have that much time, so you'll forgive me if I ask you to stop scewing around, and show me just what it is your still holding back." Perhaps a bit more than Rivven could actually promise from himself. Going back to weaving the signs again, he'd have to put all his attention somewhere between that and watching the man's arm to dodge bullets, already difficult even with his mobility. But he'd have to risk taking one to the gut to get through this; and he was sure it would be at least somewhat worth it as well. Even before his final rush of water hit the surface, spouting upward with it's momentum rather than sinking up through the surface, Rivven was trying to weave the signs and plan while keeping a part of his mind on evasion, and first sealing the water off from seeping back under through the cracks it had left in the ground, he took the wide spreading frothy arms of the geyser, turning outward and downward already, and wove the signs to freeze them, some only into chunks of ice, but just as often jagged icicles, and grabbed the lower part of the geyser, about a fourth of it perhaps, and wrapped it around himself into a large ball of water, a very slight defense against the bullets until he was able to realize the offensive potential of it, and slamming his hands into more signs as quickly as he could put them in order, he created two, three, four water doppelgangers, spreading them around the arena to slide atop water like himself, all with a lesser water sphere to protect them from ice. But he didn't expect to fool his opponent, he was building his offense, planning out move after move as he worked, nect freezing the water on his opponents firearm, slow working as the firing was heating it, but in a few seconds he'd remove that and be on to the next little toy his opponent pulled he supposed, but layer upon layer of thought came as he planned out several roots his attack might take, and layed out more options, tossing the chain's to halves at his opponent using water, and bringing a large serpentine rush of the water from either side in to catch him, bringing his doppelgangers in to circle closer as he did this and the ice finally began striking earth; he really was thinking quickly, adrenaline must be coursing his veins more than he realized. He'd have to thank mister Chauffuer for the excellent fight however it ended. But with the thought in mind that he might still with this be hard pressed to defeat his opponent non-lethally, he brought his hand to his stomach as soon as he was momentarily finished with the signs, pulling up the bottom of his shirt and putting his hand into the blood seaping now quicker from his old wound, covering it and holding in mind not to use the summoning jutsu unless the rest failed; it would set him back to how tired he'd been four days ago, and he needed to speak to some people as soon as he finished the match and closed his wound.