Just whatever came to mind with the two had come to the forefront. Whatever they were curious about in combat, they executed. Whatever stigma they had with combat, they executed. Nothing was held back. That with no exception. But a battle is a journey as much as it is a meeting of the wills of two people.
"We all know it's going to be a fight." The Countryman wasted no time in the battle and rammed his body into the armored Brunwine. "Come on, don't tell me the game isn't rigged!"
Like always, Brunwine's armor protected him. It was thick enough to stop both arrows and one time it even stopped a cannonball. His armor was always dented and yet, it had never held a hole.
The arrows would be lodged into the armor and once he retired from his craft, he was finally able to take apart his armor. With the closer look, he saw that it was holding fourteen arrowheads and nine miscellaneous pieces of medal. The were from cannonballs that landed near him or swords that had broken against the armor and other pieces of armor.
"Nice one. Do it again."
Brunwine collected himself, grabbed his sword, and finally, challenged the enemy. Combat is a lot like gambling. If you do it with someone long enough, you will learn their style and know their weaknesses. Some people needed a few minutes in order to find chinks in the armor and others need a few years. Brunwine was the former.
"What are you? Some kind of masochist?" Masochism never stopped the Countryman from a victory. "Eh. Alright."
Falling into the trap, the Countryman moved forward. He had a fatal flaw in his operations. He was extremely predictable. From the one hit, Brunwine figured out that this man wasn't just egocentric, but that he was also right-handed and relied entirely on his physical prowess. In lack of better words, he was a great victim of which Brunwine saw many.
As the Countryman rammed into the mercenary, the armor took another row of dents shortly before the Countryman looked down and saw something that he had only ever seen once in his life.
"Idiot."
Blood, he had drawn blood from the Countryman!
"No… how did you?"
Just right of his stomach, he had cut his side. The Countryman was planning on a quick battle. The blood was thick and came out like motor oil. Brunwine had intended to cut his side before moving forward with the plan. He was never one for battle strategy as he preferred to go into battle and kill everything before him.
Now, he was left with the Countryman beating him relentlessly. There was no end in sight. His body was being compressed until eventually, he was almost feeling the punches. With what remained of his might, he lifted his sword and using the flat end, he slammed it into the side of the Countryman's skull.
It didn't stop him. Further and further the two went until the Countryman moved his barrage upward from the chest to the helmet. Twenty seconds of punching had given Brunwine a concussion five times over.
BANG
BANG
BANG
The two were locked into a state of TBI that neither would really come down from. As they went across the motions, the first to give out was the helmet. It shattered like glass upon the final blow. Brunwine's eyes widened enough that the cameras could pick up on and show everyone just how surprised he was. His armor never broke before.
"OW! I think I broke my hand! OW!"
As if there was some god out there that did in fact not detest the existence of Brunwine, he was saved by his armor yet again as the Countryman had cradled his broken right hand and cursed anyone who would listen.
I always hated English.
Standing was like he was fighting on a ship going through a typhoon. He rocked back and forth with every step. Like he did countless times prior, he had grabbed the sword and used it like a crutch.
He's got his head and I have my hand. How stupid. Just hold still. Regroup. When did I ever regroup? Wait, my armor is heavy. When was it ever heavy? Never. I always win. Even in the face of betrayal or terrible odds, I stand on top.
Using the last bit of precision he had in his head, he ripped his kneepads off and flung them at the Countryman. It momentarily stopped his rant as they dinged off his head.
"Come back here!"
He yet again took the stance in defense. He needed to end this quickly or things were going to end badly.
"What in the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
Without another moment of hesitation, the Countryman charged forward and his collision with Brunwine was hard enough that it not only sent him flying backwards but it also shattered his chest plait. This time, Brunwine couldn't stop to look at what was happening because the second barrage was faster, yet weaker than the first.
His ribs were shattered. He was going to spend at least two months recovering, that being if he survived. As the sword rose, this time it wasn't the dull side that had made contact with the Countryman.