The orc was blinking in disbelief, seeing to his right, the elf utterly elated with the wind around him, and to his left, the once unstoppable berserker left slumped against the wall.
Like clockwork, the remnants of the once great adventurer rose with a kick of his legs. The entirety of Thros' torso was bruised and lacerated, a mix of purple and red.
"Fantastic!" The man, larger than life, shouted with an exhilarated smile, slapping his own chest without any restraint as blood splashed. "A real, proper battle it is, then! Let's stake our lives–right here, right now!"
Wordlessly, the challenge was accepted as the archer drew in a breath that filled his lungs with bountiful vigor. Once more, he pulled along the bowstring as wind gathered, condensing at once and firing–
At the same moment, the smiling warrior lunged forward, slamming his foot right through the stone at his feet. The fastly-moving burst of wind collided with a chunk of risen earth, blasting it apart into chunks.
