His nose shattered. Blood streamed. His vision blurred from the impact.
They separated, both critically wounded now.
Marcus's broken nose was bleeding profusely, his face a mask of blood. Skar's side wound was mortal if not treated immediately, his arm barely functional.
"Last... exchange," Skar gasped through pain. "We both... know this."
"Yes," Marcus replied, his voice distorted by his broken nose. "One of us dies. Maybe both."
"Honorable... combat," Skar managed. "You fought... well."
"As did you. Best opponent I've faced."
They charged simultaneously, both knowing this was the final moment.
Marcus put everything into one overhead strike—a classical execution designed to split an opponent's skull. His training, his experience, his remaining strength all channeled into one perfect blow.
Skar used his last reserves of serpentfolk speed to dodge left, his serpentine body twisting impossibly. The blade missed his head by inches.
