For a moment Kholivaz imagined his ears had actually moved of their own accord to better capture the agonized cries of the decrepit priest impaled along the bottom side of his board. Imagination, surely. He had heard far better and was determined to give an Astartes enough reason to scream, in the coming moments. Skimmer moved left and right, the occasional burst from the shardcarbine used to keep the enemy distance, the slightest shifts in weight dipping it's wings to and fro even as he hovered just above the ground. Cruel eyes searched quickly across the ground until at last.. There you are. A bit of madness for this mad cult. Helglaive's spiked blade hooked through one of the links of the Priest's chain flail closer to the handle, the former Corsair giving it a twist to secure the weapon around his own. It was a clumsy weapon of mon-keigh design, but the Hellion saw the potential for mischief as his board shot across the floor towards the Chaplain and his entourage. Combination of speed bringing the weight up off the ground and his own strength bringing it about to strike, Kholivaz's heel depressed on the firing stud of his Skyboard a split second before reaching the crowd, announcing his presence to the mob that may have not noticed him until just now. Confidence aside, a Commorrite such as he knew better than to risk everything with Astartes. He had never clashed with the misshapen super soldiers of the Imperium, but he had heard enough tales from Corsairs in their cups to know that they were a danger, even to him. Instead this was a variation of the same strike he had pulled off on the Nob in their last battle. Before he fully entered the striking range of the Chaplain, his skimmer rose and flipped him to fly overhead just outside of the Chaplain's striking range. Whereas his own Helglaive with it's superior reach and the added weight of a flail.. The weapon quickly slid through his grip until he had both hands at one end, it's reach doubling as he brought the weapon down towards the Chaplain's unguarded shoulder, the twisting motion of his entire body adding a rotation to the flail. Even if his blade missed shoulder or helmet, the weight swinging around would wrap the chain across the Astartes' neck with a thunderous impact, which Kholivaz would happily leave planted in the Chaplain's body to retrieve later. It wasn't meant to be a fatal strike, but one to put the Angel of Death off balance until Kholivaz could swing back around and visit Death upon him.