The tricks run out.

They were bound to eventually. They were disrespect, weaponized. But now that Solarel has at last drawn her blade you can see the anger that drove them. 

The way she fights here, at the end, is different. It's restrained, cagey, slothful. It's poor form by professional standards. She moves slowly, each step coming gently down onto the ground, almost slow motion. She moves like a samurai, blade raised, patient. Patient, patient, patient, letting the shoulders of the Aeteline roll and shift. The change is profound, from an all-out blitz into a serene, zenlike anticipation. 

And now that you have survived her onslaught you can at last understand. 

She fights like this because this is the only way [i]to [/i]fight. All of her tricks, all of her tactics, all of her techniques: all of these are [i]punishes[/i]. She never wanted to win the fight that way, with those instant hard counters. But she had to. If she was fighting this slowly then someone fighting at normal speed would destroy her instantly. She fights this slowly because she is taking into account every possible trick and tactic. She fights this way to be safe from all of them. 

She shifts her stance, adjusting back two steps. She's doing this to be safe in case you have a hidden secondary blade. It costs her position. She doesn't know that you don't have that weapon. She adjusts as though you do. She assumes infinite competence on your behalf and that constrains the possibility space. The second blade leaves play as a factor because she never takes that risk. A shift of posture takes her out of the line of a sniper round fired from the cockpit; barely any movement at all. An outside observer would miss it. She assumed you had that weapon and that skill. She performs the check and the deflection and then adjusts her stance forwards. 

And you step back. Anything less would put you at risk of a surprise flamethrower all in. You're ninety five percent sure she doesn't have that... but she [i]might[/i]. All being safe costs is time.

The battle slows to a crawl. Time starts to bleed away. The dance is slow. But that's just how long it takes. The last time she did this properly it took a whole day, start to finish.

How could she enjoy it after that? Fighting against casuals. Opponents who weren't ready. People who weren't speaking the same language as her. People who thought that expressing yourself in battle meant being free to do anything you wanted! No, the fight had grammar. It had logic. It had a common vocabulary and a baseline of understanding that needed to be reached before it could be used to truly say things. It's only here, on this level of vibrating subtlety, that she can truly speak. Everything louder than this was the shouting of children.

She shifts and lowers her blade aggressively, steps forwards. A risk - if you had seeded the area with land mines she would have been vulnerable. It gains her an edge - an almost imperceptible one, freeing her to move just a little bit faster. But it adds to the damage of your foot, putting her into the lead. In a move as subtle as a chessmaster moving a pawn you now see boldness and confidence, a subtle read: [i]I do not think you would bring land mines to a battle in the clouds.[/i] With the possibility ruled out the fight can accelerate slightly, and it will continue to do so moment by moment until it reaches its crescendo.

But only if you have the patience to see it.