Riven's breath came in heavy heaves, exhaling a thin mist into the dense, oily air that reeked of copper.
Barely seven paces ahead of him stood Captain Reksov.
The tempo of the battle had shifted.
Riven's dark military shirt was torn completely across his chest and shoulders, exposing sinewy muscles glistening with sweat. The rough bandages on his left arm were now saturated in crimson, blood slowly dripping onto the marble floor.
But the northern giant paid it no mind. His pain receptors had long been deadened by pure adrenaline, his gray eyes locking dead onto his opponent.
Opposite him, Reksov was in no better shape. His officer's uniform hung in tattered ribbons, shredded by slashes.
His pneumatic right arm hissed wildly. Superheated steam spewed from the seams of the metal joint, emitting an ear-splitting screech.
Click... click...
