Arthur's sword collided with the ogre's club like a branch hitting a tree. The sword flew from his hand as he was sent flying backward.

The ogre laughed triumphantly. The little prey got what it deserved for challenging him. Hm? Was it getting up again? Confused, the ogre moved towards Arthur.

Arthur had landed next to a fear-frozen dwarf. Blood was dripping from his lips as he got up.

"Give me your sword," he told the shocked dwarf as he wiped the blood with the back of his palm.

"What?" the dwarf could only mumble.

"Your sword. Give it to me!" Arthur growled.

The soldier, finally understanding, hesitantly handed Arthur his weapon. Then he ran, as he happened to catch a glimpse of a three-meter-tall ogre heading his way.

Arthur gripped the sword tightly. He hadn't been too injured from the previous hit, as he was lucky enough to land on a patch of blood-soaked soil instead of rock, which dominated this place.

He eyed the ogre warily. It was stupid of him to fight it head-on. The beast was strong, and its weapon was much more suited for collisions than Arthur's.

With a roar, the ogre lunged at him, bringing its club vertically down Arthur's head. He sidestepped the blow and landed a cut on the ogre's extended arm. The ogre let out a low growl at the shallow wound. Arthur winced. Its skin was tougher than expected and, even with his herculean strength, cutting into it was difficult.

Having received a wound, the ogre now took Arthur a bit more seriously. Instead of thoughtlessly lunging at him, it circled him warily. Arthur circled around it too.

Then the ogre suddenly attacked faster than before, this time not swinging as widely. Arthur barely managed to dodge the blow and had to step back, not having the opportunity to launch a counterattack. The ogre wasn't about to let him go though, and kept swinging its club at him.

Arthur was frantically dodging blows, occasionally making a shallow cut at the ogre's exposed body. He was getting tired, but the beast was finally bleeding. Brown, muddy blood dripped from its wounds, and it was starting to get slower too.

Seeing this, Arthur got cocky and tried to attack when the time wasn't proper. The beast didn't try to dodge and instead let the blade sink deeply into its thigh. Before Arthur had time to unlodge the blade, the beast swiped at him with its free hand, launching him away and forcing him to let go of the sword.

The ogre grinned in an animalistic way as it, too, threw its club away. This challenger had injured it. It would tear him apart with its bare hands. It threw itself at Arthur.

Arthur was now left disarmed, with no choice but to engage the towering beast in a fistfight.

Arthur dodged the ogre's right fist and landed a counter on its chest, using the monster's momentum to increase the effect of his punch. Despite its size, the beast growled in surprise and stepped back. Arthur stepped back too and rubbed his fist with his other hand. The beast's tough skin hurt. At least he could harm it.

He also noticed another problem. With the height difference, he couldn't reach the ogre's head. A blue vein pulsed on his forehead as he gritted his teeth.

At the edges of his vision, he could see a blur heading towards the ogre from behind. It was Nigel holding his sword. "BACK OFF," he roared. "IT'S MINE!"

Enraged, the ogre roared and raised its leg to kick Arthur. He was caught unprepared and, although he blocked the kick, he was knocked to the ground. He quickly scrambled back up, just in time to avoid the stomp of the ogre's giant foot, right where his head used to be.

But as the ogre had ducked to stomp him, Arthur raised his body and delivered a devastating uppercut to the beast's chin, throwing it backward. It quickly found its footing and lunged back at Arthur. In his mind, fear and other useless thoughts had disappeared and all that was left was an unwavering will to survive. Arthur's eyes were completely hardened and veins of steel pulsed in him as he fought. One mistake would lead to death.

For a time, the two opponents were engaged in a brutal melee, fists and kicks flying left and right. Arthur looked like a child against the ogre's hulking form, but his physical training that he never skipped was now showing its benefits.

Arthur ducked under a punch and delivered one himself to the beast's sternum. He could hear his knuckles cracking, but he couldn't afford to care. His life was hanging by a thin thread. The beast stepped back but struck again, striking Arthur at his side and throwing him on the ground. Arthur felt a burning, piercing pain as one of his ribs had been broken, but he got up nonetheless. His continuous hits to its chest were bearing fruit as the beast clearly had difficulty breathing.

He moved to attack but slipped on some blood on the floor. The ogre, grinning menacingly, punched him as he was falling. Arthur roared and, having no other option, raised his left hand and met its fist with his own. Cracking sounds rang out as Arthur's hand broke, bony protrusions sticking out of his skin like some sort of twisted morningstar.

The ogre roared in triumph and swang the same fist again. Arthur, who had long stopped thinking and was fighting desperately on instinct, moved the same mangled hand in the way. Their hands collided and the broken bones sticking out of Arthur's hand injured the beast, cutting through its tendons. Arthur screamed in pain and the monster roared in defiance.

His hand was now a mass of blood, bones, and mangled flesh, its constant pain threatening to push Arthur into unconsciousness. He fiercely bit on his lips to keep himself awake. The beast's hand wasn't much better, and it was left dangling helplessly at its side.

The ogre started to panic as its limited thinking capacity finally caught onto the fact that perhaps it could lose. Arthur tried to punch its chest again with his good hand. The beast let him and, instead of blocking, leaned forward and bit hard on his left shoulder.

Arthur screamed again in agony as the ogre pulled its head back, ripping a good portion of Arthur's shoulder off his body. Arthur's left arm was now completely destroyed. Where his left shoulder used to be was now a large bite mark. The ogre's teeth hadn't even stopped at the bones, leaving the remaining half of his collarbone exposed in the air.

Were it not for the extreme amount of adrenaline released in his body, along with the body strengthening magic accelerating his blood flow, Arthur would have long since fainted. The downside was that his increased blood flow was making him bleed even faster. White took over his vision, but he decisively bit off part of his lower lip to forcefully keep himself awake.

The ogre, in pain itself, turned back to head towards where it had dropped its club, spitting Arthur's shoulder in the process. The fight hadn't gone well and it was afraid. It wanted to get its club for protection. There was more prey around, and maybe someone could threaten it now that it was injured. It began walking to its weapon when suddenly it felt itself being pulled backward.

Arthur, seeing the ogre head for its club, had grabbed its back leg with his remaining hand and yanked it back. With a screech, the ogre collapsed on the ground. It tried to get up, but Arthur's strong fist landed on the back of its head, planting it face-first into the ground. With Arthur on its back and only one hand left, the ogre could only flail wildly as Arthur kept banging his bloodied fist on its head, again and again and again.

His fist had been bloodied all over, most of it being his own blood, and he could feel his bones cracking but he kept going. His fist was making splashing sounds as the ogre's head had been covered by Arthur's flowing blood. The ogre could only howl in pain and fear. Eventually, the monstrous beast showed signs of stopping. Its resistance grew weaker, and its howls of pain turned into weak shrills.

Arthur got up and, with heavy steps, walked to the greatsword he had dropped before. As he picked it up, the ogre was trying to get up. As it had managed to reach a kneeling position, Arthur cleaved at its neck with the greatsword. It took two hits, but the ogre's head was sent rolling in front of Arthur's legs.

Everybody was frozen around him. The general had just defeated his opponent, but their battle was drawing almost no attention compared to Arthur's. It was only a matter of time before Escers won, anyway. The remaining goblins had fled already.

Arthur raised his head to look into a nearby dwarf's eyes. The dwarf involuntarily shivered and took a step back. All of them were looking at Arthur in terror and awe, as if they were looking at a majestic wild animal.

"Ogre Killer..." Nobody knew who said it first, but this whisper began to spread among the few remaining dwarves. Soon, from a whisper it became a tide, rising higher and higher until it was everyone’s combined roar.

“Ogre Killer! Ogre Killer!”

Arthur, bloodied and mangled all over, took a single step. Then he collapsed, and the dwarves rushed to take care of him.