Gunthar's blood had already stopped dripping.
It clung to him in dark streaks where Edric's blades had opened flesh moments ago, but the flow had slowed, thickened, then ceased altogether. Muscle twitched beneath torn skin. Something deeper pulled tight, drawing itself together.
Gunthar flexed his fingers, once.
The sensation seemed to please him.
Across the square, Baron Edric adjusted his stance without conscious thought. Both sabres were up now... one angled forward to threaten space, the other held lower, ready to cut inside the first. His breathing had steadied.
This was no longer about holding ground.
This was about ending a threat.
Smoke dragged low across the square, pulled into slow eddies by the heat that rolled off Gunthar's body.
The puppets still stood where they had been ordered to stop... dozens of them frozen mid-step, mid-reach, mid-collapse. Empty faces. Waiting.
Gunthar ignored them.
His eyes... washed pale, almost luminous... never left Edric.
"Baron," he said, voice calm, almost polite. "It's rare to find someone that pushes back."
Edric did not answer.
He stepped in.
The first sabre came high, fast, aimed not to test but to take. Gunthar shifted half a pace to his right, the blade skimming past his cheek close enough to shear hair. The second sabre followed instantly, a mirrored strike meant to catch the evasion.
Gunthar raised his left forearm.
Steel rang against bone.
Not a block... an interception.
The impact cracked loud enough to carry across the square. Edric felt it all the way up his arms, a vibration that should not have been there.
Bone broke.
Gunthar's forearm bent at an angle it should not have held. Flesh split. Something pale flashed beneath skin.
He smiled.
Edric did not wait to see more.
He shifted his weight and cut again, low this time, aiming to take the leg out from under him. Gunthar stepped inside the arc instead of away from it and drove his free hand forward.
A palm strike.
Edric saw it coming and still could not avoid all of it.
He jumped back mid-impact, twisting his torso to bleed force, but the strike caught him across the chest like a battering ram. The air tore from his lungs. He skidded backward across stone, boots scraping, sabres held tight by reflex alone.
Before Gunthar could follow...
"Now!"
Dave moved.
The spear came in low and fast, aimed for the thigh. The point punched through muscle and drove Gunthar back a step before biting deep into stone beneath the snow. The force pinned him there, leg anchored, balance compromised.
Edric was already moving again.
He closed the distance in a single stride; both sabres raised for the kill.
The first blade took what remained of Gunthar's ruined forearm nearly clean off.
The second came down toward his neck.
Gunthar did not dodge.
He grabbed his own hanging arm with his good hand and tore it free.
Flesh parted with a wet sound that turned more than one soldier's stomach. Gunthar brought the severed limb up like a shield just as Edric's sabre struck. Steel bit into dead meat, cut through bone, and buried itself deep.
For half a heartbeat, Edric froze.
Not fear.
Calculation failure.
Gunthar saw it.
He kicked.
The blow caught Edric square in the midsection and launched him backward. He hit the ground hard, rolled once, twice, and came up on one knee, sabres crossed defensively as the world snapped back into focus.
Gunthar snapped the spear shaft lodged in his leg and stepped free, leaving the broken length behind. He rolled his shoulder once, then twice.
The stump where his arm had been was already changing.
Bloodless. Tightening. Drawing inward.
"Ha," Gunthar said softly, watching it. "This is fun."
Dave repositioned instantly, snatching a fallen spear from the ground as he placed himself between Gunthar and Edric. His stance widened, spear levelled again... not to kill, but to deny space.
Edric rose behind him, eyes fixed on Gunthar's neck.
Muscle began to knit.
Bone pushed outward beneath skin like something growing impatient.
Edric exhaled once.
"Interesting," he whispered, eyes never leaving the monster.
"What do you think, Dave?"
Dave didn't look away from Gunthar.
"Aye," he said. "That's a troublesome trick."
Edric tilted his head a fraction, studying how Gunthar's posture never quite allowed a clean line to the throat.
"He guards his neck," Edric said. "Every time."
Dave nodded."Still as sharp, my lord."
Gunthar laughed under his breath, eyes bright.
The puppets stood silent.
The square waited.
Gunthar rolled his neck slowly, once to each side.
The motion was almost casual, but Edric watched how it shifted his shoulders, how the rebuilt arm flexed, fingers curling and uncurling as if reacquainting themselves with strength. Skin was still pale where it had grown back, faintly veined, the muscle beneath moving with an unsettling smoothness.
Dave adjusted his grip on the spear.
"Careful," he said quietly, not taking his eyes off Gunthar. "He's settled now."
Edric gave a short nod. "I see it."
Gunthar stepped forward.
Not a rush.
Not a charge.
Just a deliberate closing of distance, boots crunching softly in the snow-dusted stone. The air around him felt heavier now, warm enough that breath fogged strangely between him and the men facing him.
Dave lunged first.
The spear shot out in a straight line, precise, aimed for the ribs... an old soldier's thrust meant to end fights quickly. Gunthar swatted it aside with the back of his hand, the shaft snapping sideways with a crack as the force travelled down the wood.
Dave pivoted immediately, shield coming up as Gunthar's fist followed.
The punch landed on the shield.
Metal rang like a struck bell. Dave was driven back a full step, boots gouging stone, arm screaming as the impact rattled through bone and muscle. He held, jaw clenched, shield angled just enough to deflect the follow-up strike that came like a hammer.
Edric moved in that instant.
Both sabres flashed.
The first cut across Gunthar's torso, shallow but fast, steel singing as it parted skin. The second came from the opposite angle, aimed high, meant to open the throat.
Gunthar twisted inside the blades, taking the first cut fully, letting the second scrape along his collarbone instead of sinking in. He drove an elbow backward, catching Edric in the shoulder hard enough to stagger him.
Dave stepped back in.
Shield slammed forward.
Spear followed, low and vicious.
Gunthar caught the spear again... this time with both hands... and wrenched it sideways, pulling Dave off balance. He brought his knee up into the shield's rim, denting it inward with a brutal crunch.
Dave grunted but didn't fall.
Instead, he let the spear go.
Gunthar blinked... just once.
Edric was already there.
The sabres crossed in a scissoring cut that bit deep into Gunthar's side. Blood sprayed hot against the snow. The smell of it... iron-rich, almost steaming... cut through smoke and ash.
Gunthar staggered back half a step.
Then he laughed.
A short sound. Almost pleased.
"Good," he said. "You two know how to press."
His wounds were already tightening. Not closing yet... but slowing. Drawing inward like flesh remembering its shape.
Edric didn't wait for more.
He drove forward again, sabres a blur, attacks chaining together... high, low, inside, outside... forcing Gunthar to keep his guard high, to keep turning, to keep his neck protected.
Dave circled to the flank, empty-handed now but not idle. He kicked a fallen spear aside, scooped up a discarded shield from the ground, and snapped it into place with practiced ease.
"Lance!" Dave shouted without looking back.
From the rear ranks, a weapon came spinning through the smoke.
Dave caught it cleanly.
He grinned despite himself. "Still good hands."
Gunthar saw the change immediately.
Shield and lance altered the rhythm.
Space became dangerous again.
Dave advanced, shield first, lance darting like a snake. Gunthar swatted one thrust aside, ducked another, then grabbed the shield's rim and wrenched...
Edric struck.
Both sabres came down in a brutal crossing arc, one aimed for the collar, the other for the neck.
Gunthar took the hit.
Not cleanly... but enough.
Steel cut deep. Bone cracked.
Gunthar tore himself free and leapt back, clutching his shoulder as something inside it shifted badly. He landed hard, boots skidding.
For the first time, his breath hitched.
Dave exhaled sharply. "That one hurt."
Edric didn't smile.
But his eyes were bright now.
"Again," he said.