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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #2144941
Towards the end of my (hopefully) future novel there is a big fight scene. This is some.
Meanwhile Le’are was weaving between the followers of Ecl’at Thar like a current of pain and death, breaking bones as smoothly as she moved between the enemies assaults. She stepped forward, leaving the shattered body of her last combatant behind her as she narrowly avoided a swinging punch with more force than most she had encountered. Before her stood a hulking figure in half-plate, a figure she recognised as one of The Collective.
As the realisation that the criminal syndicate wasn’t crushed yet hit, so did The Infernal Ones’ fist.
Her vision clouded momentarily as she recovered from the glancing punch just behind her ear. Instinctively ducking she managed to dodge the kick that followed. The pain in her head dulled her consentration but she was able to focus enough to deliver a rising elbow to the gut of the giant demon-kin before her.
She recoiled as her elbow throbbed. While there was no hard armour on his stomache it was like hitting a tree trunk.
His gravelly laughter reached her ears over the roar of battle and adrenaline surged. Her pains dulled to the point she only realised the next time she was hit as she was pushed onto the crumpled and moaning mess of a person she had previously defeated by the force of the blow. But as the demon-kin’s gauntleted fist pulled back she had already grabbed it and was thus yanked onto more stable ground.
The demon before her decided to jerk his arm to try and get her to let go. Her training kicked in and she followed the motion of the arm as he pushed it down, coiling ready to jump with his arm when he yanked it back up again. She smiled, his attempts to shake her off he had sealed his own fate.
She leaped from the floor and followed the momentum of his arm, arcing over his shoulder, bringing his arm with her. A wet pop and scream of pain confirming she had dislocated his arm. Turning to face the back of her foe she twisted the arm around sideways, the demon-kin’s physical instincts forcing him to lurch that way to minimise the pain.
As he flipped onto the floor with a heavy thud she snapped his elbow by stamping on it having straightened his arm first. Immediately following, faster than even she expected, her foot landed on the throat of her adversary – cutting his whimpering, and life, short.
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