"Na!" Aron shouted out, his voice cutting through the roar of the crowd. "I know you're hurt, but right now you're kinda useless just staying in here like that! So why don't you go make yourself useful and look after Sheri so I can take care of this one?"
There was no argument coming from Na. There was no witty comeback or refusal of what had been asked, because deep down, Na knew it was the truth. His body was battered, and his energy was flagging; in a high-level fight like this, he was becoming a liability.
As he struggled back up to his feet, Na rushed towards where Sheri was standing. He could see one of the Black Hound thugs running towards her, his hand outstretched to grab her. Na didn't hesitate. With a burst of remaining strength, he grabbed the back of the man's shirt, digging his fingers into the fabric. He lifted the man's entire body with one hand and chucked him through the air like a ragdoll.
