Malakai lay inside a caved trunk that had stopped his momentum, completely battered. His eyes were bloodshot, teeth gritted, and blood marred numerous parts of his body.
The figure glanced toward the large log pressing down on him. It must have broken off and fallen as he slammed into the trunk.
"It's over." The figure said, walking toward him with cold eyes. "No more fucking tricks."
Though he said that, the figure's steps were very cautious. With everything that had just happened, he'd have to be stupid not to be.
Malakai was dangerous.
He had made the mistake of underestimating him, but not again.
The fight could end now. A single blow to Malakai's head and his skull would burst like a wrecking ball hitting a watermelon.
But the man maintained his cautious steps forward. 'He could have more tricks.'
