"Hahaha!! Die!" The words were a grating, confident snarl as Bash, a blur of scarred muscle and wicked steel, arrived in front of Nick. The man's arrogance was a physical thing, a crushing wave that Nick knew he couldn't survive.
Clang!
Nick braced, the sound of Bash's swords cutting the air, a horrifying prelude to his death. But the impact never came. Instead, the very world revolted.
BAM!!!!!
A slab of earth, black and heavy, shot forward with the speed of a cannonball, striking Bash mid-swing. The sound of the collision was wet and concussive, the air whistling out of Bash's lungs as the unexpected force slammed into him. He was launched backward, a clumsy, broken doll, his four swords skittering across the dry ground with a desolate clang.
"...What in the—?"
