The Red King's throne exploded as his body crashed through it. He bounced a few times when he hit the ground, before rolling to a defeated halt and simply remaining there in a slump.
He was completely ruined. He had previously been mad that just the tip of his horn had been cut off, but now one of them had been broken entirely while another had been ripped off and shoved through his stomach.
One of his arms was broken, and he had stopped feeling his feet a few minutes ago. Black, sizzling blood oozed from the dozens of gashes and cuts across his crimson skin as the regal outfit that had made him seem above his barbarian counterpart was in utter tatters.
Meanwhile, the Barbarian in question was barely harmed, and was looking at his most fearsome enemy not with rage or a sense of justice, but with pity.
