Snippet #2650474

Thoom. A loud thud rocked the entire arena.

The mace almost made contact with Huo, but instead bore into the ground only a few paces from where he stood. He sidestepped it, but only barely. It had managed to loosen his balance only for a little bit.

The other fellow was a brawny and tall fighter, about a head taller than Huo. A black mask hid his face, one that Huo could sense was grinning. He probably thought that Huo had difficulty keeping up.

A few breaths here and there to steady himself, "My grandmother could swing better than that!"

If Huo had a grandmother to compare to his opponent, that is. He was a tall Niessen with a sculpted figure. His arms looked as though they could snap a man's neck in half, much less swing a giant mace that could reach farther than his entire wingspan.

That was a disadvantage that Huo had to live with in this particular bout.

To hell with exhibition matches, especially when all he had were his bare fists. The other fighter would not let him an inch to throw a decent punch.

They called him the Black Hammer of Noro, an odd name considering that his hammer was not black and it was not even a hammer. The weapon was a mace in function with a solid chain attached to head of solid steel block akin to that of a blacksmith's hammer

It seemed the other fighter felt self-assured enough with the rest of his figure, perhaps a tad bit boastful of his statuesque appearance. His attire consisted his mask, boots, and crotch guard, all of which was black. The latter of which made an impression on a colosseum crowd back in 3525. Since then, it has been the talk of the townspeople. The average colosseum-goer began to mistakenly expect that all gladiators went about in their duels half-nude.

Certainly was not the case with Huo, who much enjoyed his privilege to dress in full armor and garb. Though, every now and then he felt it necessary to flaunt his abdominals before a crowd that paid good money for a good show.

This particular fight, though, he thanked himself that he wore something that could soften a hammer blow. Even if it slowed him down by a little. The Niessen pulled back the mace as though it were the anchor of a sand skiff. He began to whirl the hammer, ready to fling it at Huo or swing it to sweep him closer to the edge of the arena until the only direction he could move, was forward.

Rather than wait for that to happen, Huo rushed forward at that moment when he still had space between his back and the edge. He had spent almost the entire bout so far retreating, this move caught the Niessen off guard. His grip on the hammer-mace fumbled as he tried to react. He swung the steel block in the direction of the Osu slave, who more than welcomed it by rearing back to avoid the blow that might have taken out his head.

Huo had no teacher when it came to the Flow. He did what he could, following the instincts of the energy. He would have released some flames at his opponent, but that was a considerable drain, and certainly poor sportsmanship.

He just needed to land a single blow with enough force on the Black Hammer. It need not be fatal, just enough to render him unconscious and end the bout. Huo was a fighter, not a killer, at least under his current circumstances. He was sure the other fighter had less mercy than him though.

As the Niessen hurried to pull the head back within his grasp, Huo pulled forward ever closer. Now the Niessen did not need to use more strength because his target was closer. Huo had hoped that his opponent had exhausted most of their reserves of energy during the early stages of the bout especially when the sun was only beginning to show its face. Now that it was beating down heavily on them, Huo would need to strike a finishing blow the sooner the better.

He pulled forward, digging his heels deep to push him as close as possible to the Niessen every time he winded up his swing or throw. The Niessen retreated a couple of steps in between each, he wanted space between them otherwise his weapon would be near useless against a quicker footed fighter as Huo. But each time he tried to widen the space, Huo would close the gap a little closer.

Until, Huo tripped on a rock that was hidden by the sand. He fell forward into a dirt cloud. The Niessen scrambled to retrieve the mace and arch his back for a final swing...