(Execution Livestream Continuation, 'The Pit')
The clash did not pause.
It simply shifted shape.
Helmuth did not give Soron time to reset, to breathe, or to reframe the exchange that had just slipped through his fingers, as the Berserker God twisted his grip and surged forward again with renewed violence, his aura tightening instead of flaring, heat drawn inward rather than expelled, as this time, he did not swing, but rather thrust.
*JAB*
The axe came forward like a spear, the blade angled to hook and tear, as Helmuth dipped his shoulders and committed his entire mass behind the weapon, turning himself into a living projectile as he drove the edge toward Soron's chest with the intent to pin him to stone and split him open in a single decisive motion.
To which, Soron's daggers rose in a cross, with the intent not being to block, but rather to redirect.
*CHING*
