The blade tore across his stomach and opened him up from side to side. Blood splattered across the dirt as he stumbled backward, clutching at the wound. Part of his intestines slipped through his fingers while he tried desperately to hold himself together.
I forced myself forward despite the agony tearing through my body.
With a roar, I slammed my boot into his stomach. The impact dropped him onto his back.
I grabbed a fistful of the intestines spilling from the wound and punched him across the face with my other hand.
The elf hit the dirt hard. I climbed on top of him immediately. Just like that day.
Then I started hitting him.
My fist smashed into his face once, splitting his lip open instantly. The second punch broke his nose sideways with a wet crunch. Blood sprayed across my knuckles and chest.
He tried to push me off. I punched him again. And again.
