“Everyone back up! Stop getting so damn close!” Aralt and some of his hellhounds pushed back into the crowd. The people were unintentionally getting closer to the combatants as they held a stance, ready to pounce on one another. Stungalm; the bear that held his ground for so long, and Trevor; a lion that led his pack through trial after trial stared at one another, waiting for the exact moment to charge.
They both charged forward at that moment. Stungalm, with his pistol sword drawn and held high, rushed towards Trevor with a great deal of force. Trevor, with his sword and shield drawn, stood his ground. As Stungalm swung down his blade, Trevor raised his shield to block the attack. The clang of metal against metal echoed throughout the fight.
As Stungalm retreated back, he loaded bullets onto his weapon and aimed at the impending Trevor. With a steady hand, he pulled the trigger and sent a few shots flying towards his rival. However, Trevor deftly raised his shield and blocked the incoming projectiles with his shield.
After deflecting the bullets, Trevor lunged forward once more, ready to meet Stungalm head-on. They met once more, trading blows. Swords clashed like a rhythmic battle song, echoing through the air. Ronan held his breath, seeing no one being so equal to Stungalm before. Finally, the masked man encountered a significant challenge. He grasped the crossbow, prepared for any potential escalation in the fight.
The crowd grew louder as the two men continued their battle, the cheers rising in intensity with each clash. Stungalm’s opponent knocked him back at one point, causing him to fall onto the ground. The cheers of the crowd faded away as Trevor prepared to strike him down.
But Stungalm wasn’t giving up.
He stood up and tried to counter Trevor’s attack with a powerful swing of his own. But Trevor had expected this. He raised his shield just in time to block the attack. It deflected the blow, and then Trevor delivered a swift kick to Stungalm’s abdomen, sending him flying backwards. The masked human tumbled through the air, landing in a heap on the floor.
Trevor quickly followed after him, not letting him have a chance to recover. Prior to his advancement being hindered, Stungalm successfully regained his footing. He readied his weapon and prepared to swing at Trevor, but he was too late.
Before he had the chance to do so, Trevor swung his sword, causing the weapon to be knocked from Stungalm’s hand. It flew and landed several meters away. Now, Stungalm had only his fists. At least to Ronan, he was the scariest without a weapon. The audience was shouting again, anticipating this fight growing intense.
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“Looks like you’re out of options,” Trevor walked forward, expecting the fight to be at its end.
“Don’t be so sure,” Stungalm said in an indifferent tone. “I still have my claws.” With that, he ran forward, lunging at Trevor. However, prior to reaching him, Trevor raised his shield once more and blocked the attack. Stungalm slammed his body into it, trying to push him back, but the weight of his armor kept him steady. Surprised by the man’s strength, Trevor felt sweat trickling down his face.
As the two exerted force against each other; strength against strength; Trevor couldn’t help but admire his opponent. This guy is insane, Trevor pondered, acknowledging the difficulty of this fight.
They broke apart after a brief struggle. The crowd gasped as the two stood facing each other, panting.
“You’re good, I’ll admit that. First time someone made me sweat in a good while.” He lunged forward, swinging his sword.
Stungalm blocked Trevor’s arm with his own and then grabbed it. Trevor tried to pull it back, but Stungalm refused to let go. He instead used it as leverage and lifted Trevor up into the air. With a powerful swing, he sent him flying closer to the crowd. The bystanders gasped as Stungalm forced them to move away.
“Ah shit!” Aralt shouted, running forward to stop Trevor’s flying body from crashing into them. He managed to catch him just in time, catching him right before hitting the ground. “Hey! You! Watch where you’re throwing shit!” He yelled this, mostly to Stungalm as he tosses Trevor back into the fray. Without missing a beat, the draconic elf landed on his feet, back to the fight.
Stungalm didn’t flinch from the yelling, as he took back his pistol sword on the ground, “Trust me, you want to stay out of my way. If you know what’s good for you.”
Trevor sighed, readying his sword and shield again. He almost caused a few innocent people to get hurt by this. So he needed to finish it quickly, if only for their sakes. He’d seen those he cared for get hurt enough, so he didn’t want anymore to be harmed than necessary. “We’ve stalled for long enough. Let’s resume the fight. Before someone else gets hurt.”
“I agree,” Stungalm spoke in that dead tone again. He’s now empty of any more jesting, Trevor figured. He’s serious.
Like Trevor, Stungalm also wanted to end this, too. And it’s not because of his pride, but because if he ended up losing... he knew that would mean he had a target to reach now. An actual reason to get stronger, and to improve upon. And that alone made him smile underneath his mask.
Finally, a worthy opponent.