Dexter tore the rapier free from his shoulder with a wet rip. Blood streamed down his arm, soaking his chest, but instead of faltering, he laughed.
"GYAAHAHAHA! YES! THAT'S IT, GRAY!! CUT ME! STAB ME! MORE, MORE, MORE!!"
His laughter rang like broken glass, manic and echoing through the silent stands. He lunged again, his axes whirling, the sheer force of his strikes leaving craters in the arena stone.
Gray didn't meet him head-on. He didn't have to.
He tilted his head, just a fraction, watching the axe's deadly arc skim past his cheek, close enough to shear off a strand of hair.
His lips pulled into that cruel smile again.
"Predictable."
Dexter's eyes flared wide, pupils dilated with madness, yet his grin only widened. He swung again, faster, harder, fists and steel raining down like a storm.
However, Gray looked like he was toying with Dexter.
His body moved like liquid shadow, weaving through Dexter's frenzy with terrifying ease.
