On Skarn's side, the clash had dragged on, each blow ringing like a drumbeat in the night.
The Spirit-Bound Viking fought with the weight and swiping fury of a bear, each swing wide enough to cleave a man in two. Skarn met him strike for strike, his twin axes flashing in the torchlight. Steel scraped against steel, sparks scattering like fireflies.
Then the moment came. Skarn feinted low, drawing the Viking's guard down, before whipping one axe up in a brutal arc. The blade bit through the man's helmet with a sickening crack, steel splitting, bone shattering. The Spirit-Bound's roar turned to a choking gurgle before his body crumpled.
Skarn threw his head back and bellowed, a guttural roar of triumph that rolled across the battlefield.
But it was cut short.
A shadow loomed behind him, and a massive axe came down. Skarn turned too late.
CLANG!
Two other axes crossed above his head, catching the blow mid-swing. Sparks rained down.
