Experience as the Paladin has taught me how combat has a specific tempo, much like a melody. Every strike carries a rhythmic movement born off a split-second read. Piercing through those minuscule gaps and forging through your limitations can decide the difference between life and death. Unfortunately, most people who've faced me never lived long enough to see the pace, relying instead on aimless swings to help see them through.

Nevertheless, for the rare few who see the vision, who fostered their aura and perceptions as I had during this period. Then the struggle quickly morphs into a chess game, where the outcome gets decided from the first move. Despite our heated blustering, my set of traps and past fights with the Caracals took massive amounts of stamina from us. Finally, an opponent who would've given me a decent fight at full strength was now closer than ever.

Still, I didn't dare rush in, and neither did Asad. Instead, like starving predators, we gazed at each gaping wound to potentially exploit. Only when the thinning shine of daylight gave way to the night did we start the beginning of the end. I struck first, not wanting to give him a single inch, deploying a full salvo of five throwing knives at breakneck speed.

Shockingly Asad responded to them instantly by quickly drawing his signature chain whip and spinning it like a propeller to deflect the first three while advancing. He then wrapped the chain tight around his left arm, forming a makeshift chainmail that caught the fourth knife, leaving him to spin around and catch the fifth one to return to sender.

By then, I was already ahead of him as I deflected the first projectile through the quickdraw of my combat dagger. Consecutively I swiftly sidestepped out of the way of the second. A brutal mistake I immediately got punished for as my enemy's dreaded whip smacked me straight in the face. The blunt force left a bloody imprint on my face.

Nevertheless, I gritted my teeth so hard I thought they'd crack and forge ahead. Only to be met by a barrage of low-sweeping hits directed straight at my feet. Fancy footwork and lightning-quick parries were the only way I evaded them. I knew both were temporary measures at best, brief buffers that elongated our distance while giving him more time to limit my mobility.

Meaning it was time to employ some more creative maneuvers. In favor of offense, I leaped ahead and gripped the top of the door head to unleash a crushing double jump kick to Asad's jaw. Scarlet spit flew from his maw, including his body, as he tripped on the nearby body and collided with the rusty railing. Winding the pressure further, I rushed Asad down, ready to rip his throat out.

Unfortunately, the lion had other plans. By creating a taunt line, he diverted the pierce last second. Trying to flex his superior strength by slamming my forearm against the rails. The seething pain forced me to drop my dagger. But it also took away whatever reason I had left as I bit into his ear.

"RAAAAAHHHH!"

I couldn't tell if his earsplitting roar was out of desperation or pure anger. Regardless I held on for dear life and added to his pain by thrashing about and adding some brutal knee attacks for good measure. He tried catching the blows using the whip, but every pained grunt told me they were doing their damage.

Still, even at this range, he wasn't out of options, though, as he wrapped his whip around my right knee to gain enough leverage to slam me into the opposite wall. Chunks of flesh started littering the floor upon my descent. A factor that seemed to devolve my opponent's mental state even more as he feverishly reached for his pistol. I didn't dare let him get the chance as I hedged our lives on this deranged action.

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Rapidly I pushed myself off the wall at sheer speed and tackled him off the fifth floor. We might as well have been baby birds for a brief second as we fleetingly avoided gravity's brutal grip before spiraling down to Earth. My muscles screamed for bloody mercy while I clung to the Caracal, knowing his sick and twisted mind would never let him die so easily.

A theory proved correct through ditching the gun and wrapping the remains of his whip towards the rest of the railing. My stomach went into a full somersault when the line went rigid. Still, our collective weight and momentum were too much for Asad, as he delayed our brutal fall by several seconds. The last thing I saw was the imminently approaching ground. Followed by darkness shortly after.

I didn't exactly know how long I lost consciousness. Only when I came to my entire body throb so bad I could feel sharply even years later. The pain didn't matter, though. After all, I still hadn't won yet. A sentiment my enemy knew all too well. A single look at each other was all it took to understand this was never a fight to survive or win. This was a battle to destroy. Nothing more, nothing less.

So as we let our rivers of hatred converge again, we rose our broken vessels for the final stretch. Slowly but surely, we morphed from a sluggish crawl to a haphazard sprint which ended with a bare-knuckle clash of fists. Lazily I tried leading on with a malformed jab, but Asad weaved his way through to land a soul-shivering headbutt.

Riding the force, I clap back with a kick toward his sternum. Then, with dry bile nearly escaping his throat, I plowed straight into him and unleashed a volley of haymaker I could. Shaking bones, soaking blood, and welting flesh didn't dare stop my onslaught as I kept going, hoping the umpteenth hit would've knocked him out. But, unfortunately for me, Asad's tenacity was almost strong.

Calling upon whatever primal strength he had reserved, my enemy avoided my next attack and broke out of my hold. I was then slammed toward the floor. The lion's wrathful eyes greeted me as he pushed his forearm towards my throat, hoping to choke my life out. It was all so fast, and suddenly I could do nothing but useless thrash and struggle while Asad pressed down even harder.

Precious air left my body in seconds, along with stars of blackness that grew bolder each minute. Through bloodshot eyes, I panicky looked for salvation in my wheezing breath. Time stretched towards an agonizing crawl as my fingers sailed a sea of reddened dust till it brushed past what felt like a weapon.

By the time I grasped it, though, it was too late. Whatever my saving grace was, it remained out of reach. I had already lost far too much strength. Leaving me to writhe in agony. Asphyxiation toxically spread through my entire body, welting up my throat and forcing my skull to ring harder than a steel drum.

Frantically I offered whatever resistance I could. In due time though, I sunk toward what I thought would be my final rest. That is until a strange phenomenon started overtaking me, one I hadn't felt since I first took a life. Even trying to recall it now, I couldn't tell you whether it was a second wind or instinctual self-preservation.

Either way, my full potential revealed itself in facing the insurmountable pressure between life and death. My body, mind, and soul harmonized perfectly to form one last desperate attack without hesitation or doubt. When conscious thought returned to me, precious air finally returned to my lungs and the stench of blood.

Both sensations were enough to rouse me back to life while basking in what fresh mayhem I had created. Only to find my slapdash victory before me. As I pathetically rose to my knees, I gazed upon my fallen foe with a stained knife. The very same one Asad forced me to drop from the fifth floor.

A detail he probably would've been kicking himself for if he wasn't already in shock from his sliced open left eye. Despite me being the one with the swollen throat, Caracal's breathing remained tired and wheezing, the collective toll of his injuries finally bearing down on him. Left untreated, it's entirely possible he could die here before any police, paramedics, or other Caracals could get there.

There's nothing left to be done. Yet, I didn't move my half-dead frame back a single inch. Even in that sorry state of his, I still wasn't satisfied. There was still blood to be shed, bones to get broken, and flesh to rend. So against any form of logic, I ruthlessly shuffled my way toward my former captor and spoke between exhausted breaths with enough cold fury to freeze even hell.

"Don't you dare go dying on me yet, Asad. We still have unfinished business."