Adam pursed his lips even as the silver streak swiped for his neck. Twin infernos ignited in his narrowed eyes, his lips curved into a smirk, and despite the wounds weeping blood through the cuts of his shirt, his voice came out with more contempt than Ulgarath, the crowd, and the shaman had managed together.
"I win."
Before anyone could make sense of the futile taunt, a scream of pure agony rocked the arena. Ulgarath's axe clanged on the tiles. He gripped his right arm, his massive palm barely hiding muscles that squirmed in different directions, as if they tried to suppress the burning agony tearing their nerves.
Neuro-muscular junction or acupoints. That was what he had hammered the entire fight. Patiently, relentlessly, covertly. All for this moment. Of course, Ulgarath's hide-like skin and dreadful muscles protected the orc from direct damage.
Once he stacked them enough on a single one, though?
