Although the orc's blow struck Bel, the young man partially blocked it with his sword. But the overwhelming force of the orc's mace threw him backward. His feet dragged across the arena floor, kicking up dust and small stones as he struggled to keep his balance.
When he finally stopped, he felt his arms shake from the impact. He was gasping for breath and sweat ran down his face.
Still a little shaky, Bel raised his head, his eyes fixed on the orc, who was running toward him again with a wide, excited smile on his face.
"You resisted my blow, human!" the orc shouted through yellowed teeth and with that strong accent. "Not many can do that. I'm impressed."
Bel took a deep breath, trying to catch his breath and regain control of his body. The pain radiated from his arms to his shoulders. The Orc's strength was frightening, but he couldn't afford to show weakness.
