The red-haired fighter recovered first, lunging at Osalf again. This time, Osalf anticipated the move. He sidestepped smoothly, grabbing the man's wrist mid-strike and twisting it sharply. The sound of bone snapping echoed through the air, followed by the man's howl of pain. Osalf didn't stop there, using the momentum to fling the fighter into the brute's path.
The brute snarled, catching his ally to prevent him from crashing to the ground. It was a mistake. Osalf's fingers curled, energy surging through his arm as he snapped his fingers. The red-haired fighter's head exploded in a burst of crimson, the sheer force spraying the brute with blood and gore.
