The Arena: Craven vs. Sky Crack

[Bellosh]

 

Another day, another battle in the Sinkhole starring everybody's most hated dragon, Craven the Wicked. Despite his reputation for cheap tricks and playing it safe, there was no denying that the fire drake was one of the hardest to defeat combatants to have ever stepped foot inside the Arenas of Saarvarberg. Although most caribou attributed that to the simple fact that Craven was a dragon, and thus had so many unfair advantages over most of the other warriors. Until recently, many claimed that Craven's undefeated record was illegitimate; the product of fighting foes far less able than him.

 

There doubts were finally put to rest with Craven's improbable victory against Jarl Sigrun of Clan Askr; a chieftain who had successfully defeated dragons in the past. Yet despite all the caribou's tricksy weapons, it was the dragon that came up on top. It just went to show that a foe with more cunning and power would always vanquish the other. And Craven was nothing it not cunning.

 

That last fight rewarded Craven with HUGE rewards; larger than any fight up til then. That suited the greedy dragon absolutely perfectly. Just as significantly however, it signaled to all who spectated the Arena's duels that Craven was ready for a higher level of battle. If he went back to curb-stomp weaker opponents, he'd lose whatever grudging respect he'd managed to accumulate.

 

Fortunately, Craven's confidence rocketed sky-high after his last fight. It had been of great comfort that after all his boasts, the cruel dragon finally humiliated a great warrior in battle, like he always said he was capable of. The more Craven kept that act up, the more that everyone would see that he alone was the Champion of Dragonkind. The one who'd lead his draconic kindred to ravage Equestria, burn it to a crisp, and reassert the supremacy of dragons over the world.

 

For his latest show of dominance, Craven would be taking on a pegasus from Acroneighos; a city-state with a reputation for raising warriors as skilled and fearsome as those of the Viking Caribou. Heh, so much good that did for Sigrun! Unless this Sky had ever faced a true dragon before, Craven believed she had no hope for victory whatsoever!

"WITLESS EQUINE!" the fire drake put on his trademark show of intimidation; "I HAVE LAID LOW THOSE WHO CALLED THEMSELVES DRAGON SLAYERS! REFUSE TO YIELD..." Craven left the sentence unfinished. Instead, he left his fire do the talking as he spread out his wings and sent a burst of flame shooting into the sky. The pegasus would fall, just like all the rest.....

[SteelEagle]

The field could be marked for many miles around because of the acrid smoke that billowed above the scattered remains of what was a fortified Kastroti position. It was well built and they had known what to expect from the Pegtasi attacking them- or so they had thought. Their battlemage arrow-trap walls were often effective against pegasi, but Acroeighos had known what to expect from their horned foes. It was a war that had waged since before Equestria was born, and nothing surprised anypony anymore.

At least that is what they believed. The truth was that there was constant innovation, and the result of this battle proved that such progressive elements were alive and well. The arrow barriers could't be breached through attacks, while direct weather manipulation was foolhardy- magically charged weather simply powered the barrier.

 

If Acroneighos were fools, they would simply die every time. Kastrot would certainly like to tell themselves that their foes were simply dumb birds with the intelligence of crows.

But they were mistaken in this fantasy. The Scout Accompli always tested new attacks, and today, Sky Crack had been up to bat. Lightning Charged powered javelins into the ground outside the barrier caused small earthquakes, which broke the concentration of enough battlemages to open gaps, where the Pegtasi were able to send those same type of javelins into the formation. The barriers broke even more and the Pegtasi charged in. The smoke? Craters. And those that lay about them? Kastroti forces, who had been obliterated with very little in the way of effort for the Acroneighos.

 

The next battle would see the Kastrotis innovate. But for now, victory. Sky Crack looked over the shuffling mass of prisoners who appeared dazed and confused with no small element of pride. It had been her ideas that had shattered them for the glory of Acroneighos. One step closer to Scout Accompli Strategos. Leadership was in her future.
As was another battle.

"Accompli Crack, a wonderful engagement," Strategos Flared Wingtip said, the one-eyed Strategos hovering next to her.
"Aye Strategos. A testament to our skill and innovation. Let the walkers taste steel," she said with a nod. He smiled.
"Very accomplished, Accompli. But we have something else that may interest you."
"Yes, Strategos?"

 

-----

 

"But could he ever really challenge for the throne?"
Some laughter.
"Likely not. Ember is too well established. But he poses a future threat. A threat we can nip in the tail now," Wingtip said as the gathered poured over reports from the Arena. More specifically, of Craven the Dragon. His victory over a well-respected Jarl made him well known in warrior societies. 

"A few more victories over ponies and caribou and some of the more militant dragons may side with him and think such creatures. He lacks any real leadership capability. And from what we can tell he is unskilled. He has relied on cunning and brute strength," Wingtip continued to the nods of the others.
"So he is like a flying Hippostion?" Another Scout Accompli, Regal Flora, said to the chuckles of most.
"Very much so, haha. Point being, we need somepegasus to go to the Arena and destroy him in public. His ambitions will collapse in on themselves, and we can ensure peace with Ember. So, who wants to fight him?" Wingtip asked.
"I do!" Responded all dozen Scout Accompli, who stood and hovered up close to Wingtip. The Strategos laughed.

"I know I could send all of you," a darker smile, "and if the Accompli I pick fails, then I will send all of you to silence him. But I need somepegasus who has experience. Sky Crack- you know you're the one," he said, to the groans and mutterings of others and eventually some hugs and high-wings. 
"You've picked well, Strategos. I'll return victorious!"
"With your shield or upon it, Sky Crack."
"Until the Sky takes me, Strategos."

 

-----

 

The Arena floor was a smoking crater of memories, with the caribou crowds chanting and roaring with excitement and anger. When she was led out, she had a very mixed reaction. Many had enjoyed her fight, but a few amongst them knew of the real reason she had arrived previously. A whole caribou clan annihilated? Depending on whose side in the civil war you were on that could be a good thing, but the fact a foreign army did it was deeply troubling to many. Many cheers, some boos, but today she knew she was the crowd favorite. Facing a dragon had that impact.

 

Not that she was armoring herself with the affection of caribou. She was armed with some light armor and a shield, weather-forged in Acroneighos to resist extreme elements. It wouldn't stop his fire from hurting her, but her shield and armor would't care. Her sword was short and light, forged out of a combination of materials that include Wisp Steel. The dragon would soon come to fear it. She had two javelins on her back. One was relatively normal. The other was separated into three parts and had special metals in it. Another weapon for him to learn and fear. Her gauntlets had a strange blue and white glow about them as small lines of the same color seemed to flow throughout her armor, ending at the base of her wings. This too would be something to fear.

 

She was a little let down by his appearance. She had expected a full adult dragon, not this welp of a teenager. Still, he had won all of his fights. She would win this through skill, tactics- and playing just as dirty as he ever did. He would get teh first hint of this when the first drops of rain started to hit him not long after he was finished speaking. It developed quickly into a drizzle and then a nice solid rainstorm. She had redirected some storm fronts over the past few days towards this region and made her own...adjustments.

 

Wordlessly, she unsheathed her sword and raised her sword hoof. She pointed it at him- her gauntlet glowing-
KRAAAAAAAAAKOOOOOOOM!

 

A massive lightning bolt struck Craven directly, a full second of charge. In that moment, Sky Crack shot into the skies- challenging her foe to catch this most elusive prey as a thick mist started to roll in, much to the chagrin of the crowd.
Or he could stay still and get struck by lightning a few thousand more times. She was fine either way.

[Bellosh]

 

"GRRRRAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

 

Pain and hatred roared through Craven's body as a lightning bolt struck him. He had expected the Acroneighsian would start off the match with a dirty trick like his opponent from the last fight, but never did it cross the Dragon's mind that it was possible for a pegasus to control the weather just by pointing a sword. To think that without that convenient storm overhead, the Acroneighsian wouldn't even have a fighting chance! BAH!!! Such blatant cowardice! Craven will make that pony pay for her treachery!

 

A lesser creature would have lifelessly slumped onto the ground after being smote by the heavens, but Craven was not a lesser creature. He was a dragon with a thick hide, allowing him to shrug off several lightning bolts if he needed to. Obviously, the fire drake did not want to take that chance; electricity hurt like Tartarus, and there was no telling what would happen if a single bolt managed to find a weak spot.

 

After a couple seconds, Craven's pain subsided enough for him to commence a course of action, only to see that the dastardly Acroneighsian had already flown upwards into the rain-filled sky. The Dragon smelled that something more than Fate was at work; his opponent must have trembled at the power of dragonfire so much that she refused to fight without the helping claws of "Mother Nature". Welp; so much for setting the Arena floor ablaze and suffocating the swifter Pegasus with smoke plumes.

 

But it would have to take a lot more tricks to put down a dragon for good! Filled with fury, Craven lifted off into the air, intent on teaching the Acroneighsian a lesson she'd never forget. The wicked wyrm now knew better than to let his foe stand there unchallenged as the pony charged up an electric bolt. Lo and behold, the Acroneighsian attempted to do just that! However, Craven replied by sending a blast of fire in her direction. Rain may prevent fire from burning indefinitely, but it wasn't nowhere near cool enough from extinguishing the infernal furnace inside a dragon.

 

The Pegasus proved to be a wise one; she didn't have enough time to charge up her lightning before the flames reached her, so she aborted her attack and dashed out of the way. Unless Craven could be distracted somehow, she'd wouldn't get a chance to perform the miracle of making lightning strike the same place twice.

 

Yet in the Acroneighsian's favor, the thunderstorm was creating a downdraft preventing Craven from swiftly increasing his altitude. No matter how much the Dragon's wings labored, the other airborne combatant would effortlessly maintain the height advantage. As the thunderous skies started unleashing pebbles of hail to accompany the cold rain, Craven suspected he'd have to taunt the Acroneighsian into making a fatal mistake.

 

Instead, Craven was rewarded with a miracle from nature, for the hail increasingly grew worse with the higher altitude... and larger. Her focus primarily on the fire drake, the Acroneighsian was caught unawares when a baseball-sized projectile of ice impacted against her wing, fracturing the bone there without pity or remorse. It wasn't enough to make the screaming Acroneighsian drop out of the sky, but it certainly impaired her flying enough to make her movements sluggish.

 

To think the Acroneighsian thought manufacturing a thunderstorm would be her key to victory. Now she would have to face the consequences of her arrogance.

Craven of course sensed the odds now turning in his favor. As a big and mighty dragon, baseball-sized hail wouldn't be enough to bring misery unto him like it could for lesser ponies. Careful to keep his distance and not charge straight on, the Dragon exhaled another stream of fire toward his target, hoping that his flames aimed true.....

[SteelEagle]

The weather was helping her, but it was never an unfair element. The hail that came did a fair number on her, fracturing one of the bones in her wing. The result was a short scream of pain, and then silence. She had been hurt more than once before, and she wouldn't allow this to prevent her from accomplishing her mission. He was an aggressive sort, but cautious at the same time. He was attempting to apply pressure but he wasn't as swift as her, nor as skilled. He knew this and kept his distance. That was fine. This was not a battle she needed to win in the next few minutes. While the hail was not her friend, every other element was in her advantage. She was willing to play it out.

 

Lightning started to strike somewhat randomly. As a pegasus, she could sense where it was coming several seconds before it came when it was one o these storms. It was different from a manufactured storm that tended to strike quickly and efficiently. Natural storms were so much less efficient and slower- a good pegasi was never struck by a stray lightning bolt, even if they flew in the middle of a storm. At least that was what she was taught. The hail was never not a problem but as the mist rolled in and continued to reduce visibility, she took a second to unfurl her light armor over the wings for protection. Wing flap protection was standard to Acroneighos ponies. It wouldn't stop bruising- it would, however, prevent more breaking.

 

This quick move allowed her foe to strike. He sent more flames her way, and this time she doubted she could fully evade. She brought up her shield- which had been fashioned to resist extreme temperatures and elements- and held firm behind it. The flames rolled around her but not through the shield. She grew hotter, but she was otherwise fine. She brought down her shield- still no smile or obvious sign of taking this as a game. It would take far more to break her of her discipline. If he was relying on emotional weaknesses or arrogance to pave the way for his victory, he would find himself sorely mistaken. He roared in frustration and attacked again, this time a large stream of fire launched at her. 

 

Having recovered from her initial wounding, Sky Crack attacked through his fire. Shield first, she was like an arrow, lithe and small. The flames buckled around her and whipped around as winds and rain caused the attack to lessen. More importantly, the fog was thick now, and with all of these elements in play Craven had lost sight of the Acroneghsian pegasi. She tumbled out of view of the fire, masking her escape. She got lower than him which would only mess with his orientation even more. Expecting an attack from above he would be unable to defend the attack from below, the attack that would push this fight into something far more troubling than he had ever dealt with before.

 

She struck from below, appearing out of nowhere directly in front of him with her sword and shield. He opened his mouth to launch another fire attack, but she placed her shield in his mouth. The fire struck the shield and came back to him, causing a firestorm- even for a dragon, this was less than pleasant, and could eventually cause damage. But this happened in a flash. The real attack, and the one that would change the fight, came almost immediately as she appeared. Her Wisp Steel struck once in a wide horizontal slash across his eyes. The Wisp Steel was a unique invention, and one with a limited life once used. It simply phased through anything it couldn't pierce or harm, such as dragon scales, but phased in immediately when it hit something it could harm- like Craven's eyes.

 

Her strike cut across both of his eyes, cutting several inches into either and blinding him completely. He roared in awful, terrible pain, his claws coming up to his face. She leapt out of the way down, thrusting into his exposed neck several times. The Wisp couldn't cut through the hardened jugular, but she pierced the esophagus and trachea. Both claws went to her neck in agony as he gurgled. She leapt out of this too, this time to the back of his neck. Studying dragon anatomy, she knew the skull was too thick to be attacked. But the base of neck, perhaps, with his spine? Capable. She thrust with both hooves. The Wisp Steel dug in, but her plan was different. With the strength of her full body, the Wisp Steel realized it could actually go through the scales. She pulled up, and the row of scales at the base came off with a crack. She brought her sword up to thrust once more and kill him, but his tail got involved.

 

It flew backwards at his own head in a crazed, reflexive move to save himself. It worked in a way. She was forced to jump out of the way. The tail missed her and slammed into the back of his own head, sending him careening into the ground with a sick crack of the skull. Her shield rolled out of his mouth as he roared-wept and screamed and shot fire randomly, seemingly out of any conscious control. She grabbed it and went back to the sky.
 

But she wasn't done. She picked up one of her javelins and then charged, spun, and threw it at the rolling-on-the ground Craven. It moved at extreme velocity and pierced his stomach, though not by much due to his thick hide. He grabbed it and tried to yank it out- but the barbed ends were now in him, and every yank would bring fresh pain. But that was just part one of the attack. Part two was her gauntlet high in the air- pointing, it glowing, along with the lines heading to her wings.

 

KRAKOOOM!

 

Onto the spear's bottom, which was a conductive metal whose core ran all the way to the spearpoint- which was lodged now inside of Craven. The lightning struck the spear and immediately entered the internal organs of Craven, bypassing his thick hide. 

 

KRAKOOM!

KRAKOOOOOOOOM!

 

The spear fractured due to the power of the strikes, while the damage done to Craven was immense- but still Sky Crack considered her foe, per Acroneighsian philosophy, fully capable, and so assumed her position high in the sky- looking at her opponent clearly as the mist passed, her face one of serenity and concentration.

 

KRAKOOOOOM!
KRAKOOOOOM!
KRAKOOOOOM!

[Bellosh]

 

THE AGONY! THE HUMILIATION! THE... ANGER!!!

 

If that worthless Acroneighsian were a real warrior, she wouldn't need to rely on her crooked weaponry and this unfair storm to fight a dragon! Alas, all Craven had to show for his efforts so far was two blinded eyes, injuries to his throat and head, cuts to his hands, and several fried organs. Not even in his bout with Jarl Sigrun had the fire drank felt so much torment in his life! To put it simply, it was all too overwhelming.

 

There would be a special place in Tartarus reserved for that fraud of a pegasus!!!

 

Craven tried fruitlessly to breathe fire in all directions as the lightning smote him with impunity, only to discover that his insides ignited in pain when he tried. It looked like not only the dragon's vision was out of commission, but at least for the moment, his flames as well. Due to those factors, along with an immense pain threshold the wicked wyrm was unaccustomed to, there wasn't much Craven could do other than roll onto his belly and let his back endure the bolts from the heavens. For her part, the Acroneighsian was more than happy to stand off and keep the lightning coming, even if it couldn't penetrate as deeply as before.

 

Yet it was only a matter of time before the warrior's victory was assured. In fact, the dastardly dragon was on the verge of yielding, willing to sacrifice his pride just to make the torture stop.

 

But it was in this very moment when Mother Nature played another cruel trick on the Acroneighsian. After having summoned an unrelenting barrage of electricity with her gauntlet, the lightning... stopped coming. The mare thrust the gauntlet — no longer glowing — back up towards the sky again and again, but nothing happened. As it just so happened, the storm cloud had lost the electrical charge necessary to conduct lightning... and there was no way it was coming back.

 

What the Acroneighsian failed to suitably appreciate was that her specific battle plan actually had a narrow window of opportunity in which it could be carried out. Anyone who has studied meteorology will say that thunderstorms are sustained by access to warm updrafts. While the Acroneighsian and her underlings might have been able to supply their storm with warm updrafts in the days leading up to the Arena fight, no interference with the weather would be permitted from other pegasi during the actual bout itself. With the storm left to its own devices, only the unrelentingly cold air of Whitescar was around to keep it company, meaning that the clashes between hot and cold air — which generated electrical charge in the first place — died down a lot faster than a weather system from a more moderate climate.

 

Left to its own devices, the Acroneighsian's storm yielded to the will of Whitescar. Although the lightning had died down completely, there was still vast tons of downpour left to unleash upon the mud-soaked battlefield... and things were just about to turn for the worse. Temperatures plunged rapidly as the precipitation turned into a combination of freezing rain and ice pellets; something a bit more closer to the norm for the savage northlands. Craven could withstand freezing temperatures just fine; generate fire from one's stomach came in handy like that. His enemy... was a different story though.

 

Although the Acroneighsian's special light armor protected its wearer from extreme elements, it left many parts of her body unprotected. The legs. The face. Areas like those on the pony's body would suffer the rain's chilly bite. The downdraft itself grew especially severe, ensuring that the act of lifting off into the air was almost impossible for both the Pegasus and the Dragon. Even if the Acroneighsian somehow managed to get airborne, she wouldn't get very far before icicles started forming on her flap-covered wings, and even pegasi couldn't fly under such extreme conditions.

 

While the chilled rain once more brought visibility to virtually zero, Craven found his second wind. Freed from the torture of constant lightning bolts, all thoughts of begging for mercy were swiftly tossed aside. Rage consumed the dragon's mind, desiring nothing more than to pay back the Acroneighsian's slights a hundred fold. Before this duel was through, Craven vowed that he'd leave every inch of the warrior mare's body utterly broken. That cheat would learn the meaning of true pain!!!

 

Furthermore, while Craven could no longer count on his sight, his smell remained more effective than ever. And a dragon's predatory-esque sense of smell was always superior to that of a herbivorous pony's.

 

Consumed entirely by his hatred, Craven threw all caution out the window as he charged on all fours toward the Pegasus. Normally, any half-skilled fighter would have managed to end the battle right here with a skilled dodge followed by a decisive strike at a poorly protected area of the Dragon's body. That was certainly the Acroneighsian's plan; she didn't need her eyes to sense that a rampage from a multiton dragon was imminent. As a testament to her species, she was able to expertly jump out of the way with assistance from her wings, then proceeded to glide down toward the exposed base of Craven's neck.

 

However, it was here where the Acroneighsian committed another grave oversight. She held her sword in one hoof, using the other to hold her shield to guard against frenzied retaliation. Unfortunately, her sword aim was a little bit off; by rightfully concentrating on avoiding Craven's predictable lunge, the pony's sword struck hard scales instead of juicy flesh. Under normal circumstances, a warrior would have recovered from this setback quite easily... had they opted for a no-thrills blade of a high quality. But nope, the Acroneighsian just had to be clever using a sword of Wisp Metal, a fragile material with special attributes but dissipates after only several uses.

 

As fate would have it, the Pegasus wasted the last of her Wisp Metal sword on that last attack, dissolving in a poof of vapor as it inflicted its last painful blow upon Craven. Her primary weapon exhausted, the mare wisely used the opportunity to retreat on hoof as her enemy recuperated from his latest hurt. The Acroneighsian soldier had to be careful from this point onward; without her lightning and her sword, her opportunities for offense became much more limited.

Meanwhile, it was only a matter of time before Craven became so filled with rage that he wouldn't care how much agony he'd inflict on his insides in order to fry his opponent to a crisp.....

[SteelEagle]

The weather turned slowly, but turn it did. She wasn't planning on the weather turning as quickly as it did but she figured it didn't matter. It was getting cold and wet and with any time out here she would get sick. That was a nothing issue. Getting sick later for victory now was a perfect exchange. In the short term extended exposure would stiffen her up a little bit, but this wouldn't be a life or death issue from a pure body mechanics standpoint. She was a pegasus. Pegasi lived far up in the sky, where it was always cooler than the ground. Acroneighos had fierce winters herself as did much of Maretonia. As cold as it got there it was true that Whitescar was colder. She could feel it in her feathers, her bones, upon her breath. But if he thought that this would disable her then he would have to find a new hope to lay upon.

 

She was Acroneighosian, for Cloud's sake. Discomfort was as alien a threat to her as hail was to him. She had been trained in heavy snow, fire, under the water and at the height of the world where oxygen deprivation was king. She remembered as a little filly, standing for a day in the snow, every bit of her shaking and chattering in place as she refused to be the last one to submit to pain. And that was naked- and young. With buckets of water and intentional windstorms icing her from the earliest moments. She had been out of commission for weeks afterwards...but she was a pegasus. And she was an Acroneighsian. She was born into the weather, molded by it, raised by it. She may get sick later but she would fight through the mechanics and ignore the discomfort. She wasn't one to forfeit victory for comfort. Still, she wished the weather had remained the way she wanted it for a while longer. The last vestiges of the storm fleeted away, with a small element of the storm heading into her gauntlets.

 

What she really regretted in quick order was the loss of her sword. Yes, she got another nice cut in. This time it had been a tendon on his right leg, which would hamper his mobility even further, but the sword disintegrated in her hoof. She dropped it with a clink on the ground and got away. Vexxing, but not unexpected. His hide was thick and the Wisp had to expend its reserves further to penetrate. She had planned on it going out, if only a little later. No matter. While she would have preferred to stab him some more there was still so much she could to him that it rendered whatever complaints she could have meaningless. The only question was whether she could deliver the fatal blow just yet.

 

She could, but it was a dangerous move. Better to soften him up some more and ensure that she could ensure a total defeat. What could he still do? Her knowledge of dragon anatomy told her that his sense of smell was likely his only reliable method of hunting her still. He was blind. His hearing was functional, but not spectacular. Between her silence, the weather, and the crowd- who had been booing before but were now cheering as an open pocket allowed them to see Craven's grotesque figure battered terribly- all meant he was a one-trick dragon. This was good for her. That narrowed down what needed to happen. Once she decided what, she needed to decide when and how.

 

The when was now, and the how was quickly apparent. She had flown into a position that was above him, at the right angle for her attack. She started flying rapidly toward her foe, unhooking her shield from her arm. With all of her momentum she threw it at Craven. It screamed across the sky until it hit across his snout . The shield hit with terrifying force, embedding itself into his face at an angle and severing his snout. He screamed in pain and started belching fire randomly, forcing her to the ground in front of him in a stance that was followed by a severe buck to the jaw. She felt her back legs tremble as it hit his hard dragon bone, but there was a lot of force behind her buck directed at a small place. She felt the jaw break under the buck, a crack that resounded extra loud. She sidestepped a wild jab that was aimless and then jumped up, grabbed her shield with a sick crunch as it left his face, and immediately prepared it.

 

Craven responded with fire, which enveloped her only briefly. His jaw was now unhinged, and the flames shot in a much wider vertical arc than before, but lost much of its horizontal range. She got away from the danger zone quickly, and her shield prevented anything from seriously harming her. She felt a small burn developing in on area, but for the most part she could remark that he was a helpful bugger. He had removed some of the cold she was feeling!

 

Still, she wasn't done. There was still the matter of his hearing. He was currently on one leg, screaming in rage. She shot up into the sky and then behind him, targeting his head. She flew up quickly- and while flying transferred some of the storm she had saved up in the right gauntlet. When in range, she hit him in both ears. To his left ear when the shield-hoof, crushing his outer ear with terrible force. To the other went her gauntlet hoof, which shot out a tiny bolt of electricity with a healthy clap of thunder. The ringing and echo effect would not make him deaf for too long, but even once his hearing fully returned he would be reduced. He covered his ears reflexively and she shot back up front, her position ready for a buck again.

 

This time, the buck went directly into his throat. She felt something give inside of his neck beneath her fierce buck(which if her aim was true would be the windpipe), but she mostly used that as a boost to her as she took off across the arena floor, gaining ground and speed until she was safe. She turned around and put herself back in her battle stance, still not allowing herself to be given over to arrogance. She had a slight burn and a broken bone in her wing, and the environment was unkind.

 

But she was absolutely in perfect condition compared to him. The injuries he was suffering from would only start compounding now in cascading waves of pain and both sensory and organ failure. The spear she had lodged in him which had allowed her to direct multiple lightning strikes inside of him no doubt had fried or ruptured internal organs. His adrenaline was likely preventing him from feeling it, but it was a matter of moments (not minutes) before parts of his body started shutting down as vital elements of his body were slush. Even just a single lightning strike at the internals of a creature could kill them. Only his prodigious natural fortitude and immense personal courage kept him up, but there was only so long he could fight before simple biology took its toll.

 

That wasn't even taking into consideration his blood less. Her attacks had targeted some of the most vital parts of his body and he was bleeding- and bleeding bad. You could see it externally, but the truth was likely most of it was internal bleeding. His dragon physiology kept him upright where others would have fallen dead against her attacks, but even that had its limit. 

 

His senses were at best momentarily destroyed. He was blinded and would be blinded until the end of the fight. His sense of smell was at best heavily compromised, though just as likely completely destroyed. The damage to his nasal cavity would see to that between blood clots and structural collapse. His sense of hearing was least heavily damaged but he would at best lose his sense of balance for a while. The vestibular labyrinth had been heavily damaged which, when combined with his loss of vision and damage to his cerebellum would cause him no joy. His loss of senses, even if hearing was due to come back, was bad news. 

 

Also bad news was his ability to breathe. His trachea had been kicked and she felt something give, and she had stabbed it earlier. Taken together, his ability to draw breath was in question- especially with his nasal cavity collapsed. Every breath was accompanied by blood which quickly filled up, threatening to suffocate him on his own life. These combination of factors only made every second that passed for him more harrowing than the last. Even his dragon heart could only take so much before it too gave away under this pressure.

 

So yes, she was cold and if discomfort mattered, that would also be bad. But he was bleeding out, heading towards shock, choking on his own blood, and senseless. His time was running out, and with every drop of thick ichor that went on the ground, her victory drew ever closer. 

 

He could submit- or die. 

Victory was soon hers regardless.