"Now." Ossa's skull reformed as he quickly controlled his body.
The almost collapsed skeleton frame started to quickly heal, surprising the weakened Mike.
He was on his last legs, his body slowly shriveling, a side effect of using his life force. He needed rest, he needed treatment, or else he would die, tired from just breathing.
Ossa who was hoping for such an outcome, took the antler that lay by his side and with a strong forward thrust, stabbed at the weakened Mike.
Alarmed, Mike tried to muster a bit of aura, but instead, he coughed up a mouthful of blood. His body was too weak to defend against Ossa's reinforced strike.
Clang!! Crash!! Ossa's improvised weapon pierced through the warrior's iron armor and entered his body, appearing on the other side, blood and guts adorning it.
Mike coughed a mouthful of blood, his reddened eyes on Ossa's headless body.
