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Updated: October 28, 2024
Brion saw something close to panic on his opponent's face when the man finally recognized his error. Brion wasn't tiring. If anything, he was pressing the attack. A wave of despair rolled out from Irolg Brion sensed it and knew the fifth point was his. Thrust thrust and each time the parrying sword a little slower to return. Then the powerful twist that thrust it aside. In and under the guard.
"Four-four. All you need is a touch to win!" "That's all he needs too," Brion grunted, opening his eyes to look at the wiry length of the man at the other end of the long mat. No one who had reached the finals in the Twenties could possibly be a weak opponent, but this one, Irolg, was the pick of the lot. A red-haired mountain of a man, with an apparently inexhaustible store of energy.
Irolg looked amazed at the sudden fury of the attack then smiled. He thought it was a last burst of energy, he knew how close they both were to exhaustion. This must be the end for Brion. They disengaged and Irolg put up a solid defense. He didn't attempt to attack, just let Brion wear himself out against the firm shield of his defense.
With each passing second the power drew at the basic reserves of life, draining it from his body. When the buzzer sounded he pulled his foil from his second's startled grasp, and ran forward. Irolg had barely time to grab up his own weapon and parry Brion's first thrust. The force of his rush was so great that the guards on their weapons locked, and their bodies crashed together.
The slap of the button on flesh and the arc of steel that reached out and ended on Irolg's chest over his heart. Waves of sound cheering and screaming lapped against Brion's private world, but he was only remotely aware of their existence. Irolg dropped his foil, and tried to shake Brion's hand, but his legs suddenly gave way.
Brion had an arm around him, holding him up, walking towards the rushing handlers. Then Irolg was gone and he waved off his own men, walking slowly by himself. Except that something was wrong and it was like walking through warm glue. Walking on his knees. No, not walking, falling. At last. He was able to let go and fall. Ihjel gave the doctors exactly one day before he went to the hospital.
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