He was still in that blood red zone of rage - annoyance that the enemy had pushed him out of his flow, frustration that the enemy had gotten so close to getting his fingers hooked in his eyes. Nothing about this arena was right and all Gannicus knew was that he had to kill this man at all cost.

Nasir could have been anyone. To Gannicus, Nasir was everyone. Everyone who had ever been sent up before him in an attempt to cut him down.

Gannicus could feel the desperation in the man beneath him but Gannicus wasn't going to move. He took the kicks, ignoring the pain, and gritting his teeth with a snarl. If anything he anchored himself a little firmer before bringing the plank back in the opposite sweep - the equivalent of a backhand, once again aimed at his enemy's face.