Alexander waved his staff around with his left hand.
A new tendril lashed out, Hunter unable to block its strike with his sword.
It pushed him backward, he rolled on the ground several times until he finally came to a step next to his team.
He didn't let go of his sword, slowly raising to his knees using it as a crutch while he kept his eyes up.
He wasn't looking at Alexander's body anymore, he matched his gaze. And through that stare, Alexander witnessed it: the fire still burning within.
Slowly, he got up on both feet, and started walking toward Alexander one step at a time.
He barely held his sword upright, it was shaking in his hand, matching his legs that could barely walk.
"Pathetic," said Alexander.
His words echoed in the stadium, yet he didn't hear them.
The crowd, the commentator, the officials—they were all tuned out. The only thing he could pay attention to was his opponent before him.
