They're both aware that this fight must be approaching its last moments, and Irahl knows that he won't be the one to give the final blow unless he can make a big play and find a way through Seth's defenses. Normally, he would think laterally and find something to switch up and use to his advantage. But there is no shield to turn into a battering ram, no fistful of mines, no elevation or cover to exploit. There isn't even anything to grab and throw. And even if there had been, his opponent isn't giving him a spare millisecond to glance around or think. He doesn't have room for anything but feverish reaction, moment to moment.

Then, in the middle of the frenzy, a tiny glimmer of opportunity finally presents itself. He lunges for it without hesitation.

The window is there because the blade that has been keeping him away on one side is angled down and driving forward. The trajectory is perfect. The blade is low and aimed for the side where his heart isn't. The only thought that he has time for is to hope that Seth keeps his blades as wickedly sharp as he guesses he does.

When he dives forward, he hardly feels anything but some resistance catch him low in the ribs.

Luckily for Seth, when Irahl's knife punches out toward his target, the strike isn't perfect. Maybe it would have been better if Irahl hadn't already spent nearly the entire day in combat, under the sun. It definitely would have been better if Seth hadn't been such a skilled target. Being impaled is also complicating things a little bit.

He would have loved to sever any of the vital blood vessels there, puncture into a chest cavity to fill it with blood, drive his blade to the hilt, but he'll settle for stabbing deep enough to feel the serrated edge bite down into bone. With his enemy hooked, he can hang on and slash in with a second blade in a wild bid to finish what the first one started.