Slipping to the right, Kaius unleashed an uppercut with his full weight behind it. He felt the man’s ribs splinter, a snap that rang louder than the pop of pain joined by a subtler snap as something in his hand broke for a second time.
“Yield.”
Galiead spat blood in his face. The man had a warrior’s will, Kaius would give him that.
Kaius danced back as the man threw a rising uppercut — only to blink in surprise as the man lunged into a headbutt. Moment of Flow screamed a warning, but they were practically chest to chest, and the retainer moved like lightning.
The blow slammed into his jaw, rocking his head back as he bit straight through his lip. Before Kaius could even blink, the man moved — strong hands wrenched Kaius’s right arm, trapping it in place against the man’s chest.
The back of Galiead's hip dug deep into the front of his own, forcing him to bend over and get a good look at the man’s bloodied boots. Every movement strained his elbow and the bones of his upper arm, sending little sparks of pain shooting every time Galiead took a heaving breath.
“A damn good fight, guildhound,” Galiead gasped. “But I believe this is the point where you yield.”
So the tough bastard could do more than feint his grabs. Kaius grinned; he could admit he hadn’t expected this. He risked a glance to the side, and saw his team torn between watching him with utter focus, and squaring off against the rest of the retainers — no doubt they’d found they had an irresistible itch in the hilts of their swords again.
Porkchop shot him a look. One that warned he might wake up with his freshly recovered leg missing the next time he went to sleep if he lost this fight.
“Well, Kaius?” Galiead questioned, tensing slightly to send a bolt of pain shooting up his arm. “You might be some rune-scribed monstrosity, but that won’t save you if you’re down an arm at the start of our second bout.”
The retainer paused when Kaius laughed, a hint of his rising tide of bloodlust leaking through the noise. When he’d seen the man liked to grapple, he’d known something like this might happen.
It was exactly like he’d hoped. A perfect chance for a statement.
“There’s a funny thing about locks, they only work under threat of injury.”
Before he even finished speaking, Kaius threw himself into a turn — his free elbow racing towards the back of Galiead’s head. It wasn’t the top; it would be fine.
Kaius felt a cracking rip as his arm bone burst from his flesh. Skill-thickened blood splattered the ground, a deluge incomparable to the light coating of their earlier battle. The pain of the wound paled in comparison to the heat.
His elbow slammed home with a slight crunch, but the man’s skull held. Just. Galiead stumbled, giving Kaius enough time to dive and tackle him from behind. Ignoring his arm flapping beside him, he mantled his struggling foe. Pressing his weight down, Kaius grabbed the back of the man’s head — and lined the pink sharpened stake that jutted from his bicep up with the back of Galiead’s neck.
The man stilled as he felt it prick against his skin.
“You said no steel!” he hissed, furious.
“That’s the broken end of my humerus," Kaius said with glib satisfaction.
Galiead paused, before he shifted his head to lock eyes with the pale faced retainer at the mouth of the alley. The man gave him a single, shaky nod.
“Fucking hells,” Galiead whispered, shuddering slightly as a glob of blood ran down Kaius’s broken bone to coat the back of his neck. “You’re a monster.”
“I like to think I’m worse,” Kaius replied, driving the spike of bone down just a hair harder. Every motion tore at the healing edges of the wound. It was an exorbitant cost to his health — but oh so worth it. “So, do you yield?”
Galiead slumped and let loose a sigh of frustration.
“I yield.”
Kaius stood with a beaming smile as he pressed his shattered arm back together. Reaching into the ragged wound, he held the break stable — all the while torn muscle enveloped his fingers as it slowly sealed.
Victory tasted like salt and iron. Gods, was it sweet.