Within a second the fight turned from a simmer to a sweltering blaze. Leo's fists collided with the spears shaft. Leo's fists get deflected by Alexander's spear. The fight burned in both of their eyes. This wasn't something either will surrender easily on. It almost looked like a stalemate, however spear strikes still managed to slip past Leo's guard, scratching and scraping his skin.
Leo reached for the spear, just to have it spin and hit the shaft straight into his chin. For a second Leo slipped falling towards the ground, just to catch himself and dodge a blow aimed for his head. This was enraging, this is a spar not a fight to the death. Alexander looked ready to laugh.
The advantage in a battle such as this almost always goes to the one with more reach. And a spear is the peak of reach. Most would just say that's that, yet it takes a skilled spear man to perfectly keep an enemy at range. The true weakness of the spear is in a way its distance, once someone goes past the blade, all your opponent has is a hard stick. Staffs and clubs exist for a reason though, but at least it's better than being run through.
Alexander moved less like the wind and more like an animatron, a beast trained and coded to do one thing, and that thing is to mindlessly swing a spear. It is like Alexander put in thousands of hours doing the exact same task. But in each blow it is evident how few sparring matches he's legitimately been in. His attacks don't wrap around his opponent, they are flat, equally similar to each attack that came before. Leo took advantage of it, closing in and punching Alexander in the liver. Alexander unheroically fell to his knees, gasping for air. His glare turns as cold as ice.