It had been a desperate move, and it had cost him, but it had also worked.

Randal rolled himself off the dead guard, his face and head a bloody pulp. The guard had tried to protect himself and his arms also bore the price.

Ran forced himself to stand and examined his arm. It was what he had feared. The arm was broken. It hung at an awkward angel and a small portion of the bone protruded from the skin. He still couldn’t feel anything, and that was a blessing now.

He turned to kill the other still unconscious guard.