Dethnus watched as his arm made of massive amounts of bone was sliced through by the large axe and his own arm with it. There was nothing left of the arm he had been using, but instead a cauterized lump of flesh attached to his shoulder.
He did not think of it, though. Instead, he struck in the opening the loss had created and sliced at his enemies head. If only this shot were to make it. If only it would reach. Dethnus could claim victory over this abomination. He could rid the area of this abnormality!
The blade met flesh and the brute fell hard, possibly due to a combination of his own tiredness and the blade jutting through his head. The Executioner blade broke as Dethnus was crushed by the brute, knocking the last of the breath he had in him out.
The crowd grew silent, not knowing what they should do. It was a while before Bain could summon Enphearos' power to pull off the brute and stand.
'Five broken ribs, a cracked shoulderbone, damage to the spinal column, and even a lost arm,' Enphearos' said from inside him, 'If you add those on top off all the stressed muscle and ligaments, you have lost this fight.'
"No," Dethnus said back, "I have won, but only just."
What would this brute have been like if he had not been tired out, ever so slightly, by his previous opponents? What would he be like if he had thought calmly and rationally? Dethnus was sure if the brute was any better than he had been, then Enphearos would be enough to win. Not nearly enough.