The hand flicks now to the side; the wind blade veers sharply off course to slam into the arena walls, chipping away at the stone. In controlling the wind, there was, he thought with some measure of truth, few who could rival his technique.

"I gotcha, I gotcha. Not happy with the little gusts and eddies, huh? We want flair. We want style. We want a show."

Without further ado, Levin propels himself forward, closing some of the distance between them, feet barely seeming to skim the surface of the ground. He seems to randomly flail at the air as he runs - But Jace will feel the magic manifesting, exciting the still air and launching it forward towards his opponent. Minor annoyances at best, but enough, hopefully to catch him off-balance.