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Truthfully, there was remarkably little Iden could do to prevent the theft of his collarbones. Fortunately, such a loss was not crippling...by much. True, his shoulders would dislocate with ludicrous ease now, but his undead musculature would handle the additional stress, he hoped. But even so, he was mere feet from his goal. His strength remained, and by this point desperation outweighed the pain he was experiencing. God alone knows that once the fight-or-flight high ended, he'd feel like an amalgamation of nine circles of hell.

Since KB had busied himself with causing such harm to Iden over trying to free himself, it was a fairly safe assumption that Iden had the opportunity to maneuver his foe into the light of day. Loosely translated, he was pulling out all stops by shoving his clawed right fist upwards, through the bottom of KB's jaw, and attempting to hold him that way. At the same time his left hand thrust upwards, pressing in an attempt to hook steel and fang together to force the older vampire's jaw open. Whatever health he had gained from the spent blood of his younger prey would be denied as the brilliance of the sun washed over his open maw; Iden could only hope this was enough to slow the fiend down. God help him if it wasn't; Iden would be on the ropes with only risky and potentially suicidal options left to him after such a point.

Better and better...now Iden had to deal with a deranged old vampire stabbing his face with his own bones THAT WAS ON FIRE.

No matter. The moment was right; both fighters were in a state of sheer overdrive that denied pain and injury in favor of fighting for the sake of self preservation. It was hard to say just when the battle had gone from a tournament bout to a full on deathmatch, but this was far too gory a fight to be anything less than fully lethal in intent.

For his part, Iden was nearing the end of his high. KB was right where he wanted, and it would take so very little to finish things.

The young DeSeer paid little heed to the rain of blows. True, his face was being carved up like a thanksgiving turkey. His glasses cracked, and a splinter was driven into his left eye, but this was too important to falter. Iden pumped his rapidly burning supplies of blood and stamina into another all or nothing maneuver. He still had some of his reserves left; it was damnably hard to empty a body of all it's blood so quickly. Thus, his undead might was brought to bear once again. This time was no punch, however; his arms were maimed too badly to make any real effect. Instead, Iden kicked off the ground with his feet, and thrust them in a double legged kick to KB's chest. A normal man's ribs would shudder, flex and break under the impact; God alone knows if it would have any such effect on an old corpse. Still, such was not the intent; Iden was trying to cast his foe into the light of day to let him burn.

Not enough to kill him, of course. If it got that bad, the young DeSeer would throw himself into the fire to prevent it...

KB need not have worried. Iden had fallen after his boots parted with the elder vampire's chest, leaving him lying on the ground. Though he quickly recovered, KB was well on the way to the shadows by the time the young DeSeer had his footing, making it a literal impossibility for him to follow up in time.

That said, Iden took a step back; he needed a moment, and was wary about jumping at his foe headlong again. Battered a bloodied, it was difficult to say if he had really gained any ground against his foe. Sure, KB's face was horribly burned, and had been forcibly thrown about, but Iden looked like hell. His face was bloodied; his throat and collarbones had been ripped out. Both arms hung at his sides, only just shy of being rendered useless.

But what was that? The shades fell away, revealing a glimmer of azure. His eyes were upon KB and the bandages were parting...

Iden was grinning. The crowds went wild as the cameras zoomed to capture the man's cocksure expression. Was he just that arrogant, or was he a fool? That was for the judges to say. For his part, Iden was enjoying the fight. Terror had given way to a masochistic high similar to the aftermath of an adrenaline rush; the pain he endured merely accented the feeling and brought him little more than confidence and determination to endure. And, it seemed, there was a bit of a showman left in him; the young DeSeer began to circle away from the line of light and shadow, and forced his arms to lift to the crowds. The screaming masses roared in approval, though the dead man paid them no further attention. His gaze lingered on KB, glacial and determined as ever.

Twenty feet separated the fighters, maybe more. It was just enough that they could show their disdain for the other, knowing it would no doubt close swiftly. Iden was prepared.

Oh, if only Iden could talk. Alas, his throat was a tattered rag; he could not speak without extensive healing. Given the lull in the battle, he could perhaps begin such a process; however, the time it would take to rebuild his missing bones while remaining alert made it an entirely unfeasible option.

Even so, mauled and injured though he was, the overwhelming majority of the harm was cosmetic. Like KB, Iden was a dead man walking; he had no need of the flesh that had been torn and split. Even the loss of his clavicles wasn't totally crippling; his arms still functioned, just to a reduced capacity. He stood tall, knowing that he was still in this battle. The posturing, it seemed, would continue.

It was to Iden's advantage that they stand around like they were. He could not regenerate to a large extent; the focus required would leave him far too vulnerable. But his wounds had long since ceased to bleed, and his eye began to knit together. The expenditure was minimal to restore sight to his punctured left eye, but the payoff was tremendous indeed.

So, as he stood tall, Iden was collecting himself, preparing for the next rush. He had seen a great deal of what his foe was capable of. Knowing now to be wary, the young DeSeer was watchful, choosing to give the initiative freely for the moment that he might turn this brawl to his favor.

With his sight restored, Iden's confidence was bolstered anew. He stood, watchful and ready. As KB began to move, so was Iden's body tensed and prepared.

Something was amiss. In the battle thus far, Iden had gained some measure of his foe; the elder vampire did not strike him as the sort to waste movement, even in the clutches of bloodlust and frenzy. That meant...

Move!

Call it intuition, but it made no sense for KB to begin dancing were he not using such to his advantage. Having seen the swift lunge of dark power he had wielded to escape the rays of the sun, Iden suspected similar methods were at work. He slipped to his left, seeing nothing of the rippling wave that swiftly crossed the distance. It slammed into the young DeSeer's trailing arm, snapping it backwards with a sickening crack of breaking bone and tearing muscle.

The dead man was forced back into a low stance, but would not linger. His legs began to pound out a steady beat as he ducked and weaved, maintaining his distance and keeping on the move. A second cut narrowly missed and snipped some of the loose blue locks that drifted in his wake. Still his eyes saw nothing closing the gap; he could not percieve what threat he faced.

So Iden did the only thing any level headed, cocksure sonofabitch could do in his situation.

He surged forwards, boosting his acceleration with quick spurts of inertia-denying blood arts to keep his every twist and turn completely unpredictable. To KB, it would seem as if he were trying to close the distance in a vain hope that he would be unharmed. Another slash ripped through his side, pulverizing his kidney and stopping mercifully short of his spine. But more than just gore fell to the ground; released from Iden's leading left arm was another flash grenade. The crowd would see it land, but Iden's body blocked line of sight with KB until it struck ground. Then, with a swift sidestep, the sudden burst of light signalled a painful ring in both fighters' ears.

Two grenades remained. Iden had thought to bring five, not realizing how unbelievably necessary they would be. Later, perhaps, he would hope to a higher power that he could locate more before his next match, assuming he advanced. For now, his hand remained near to them, hoping for a c***k in his foe's defenses.

There was to be no such luck. Rather than taking a counteroffensive, KB had turtled, leaving him very difficult to assail. Iden could see little he himself could do with an additional bomb, meaning it was up to good old-fashioned fisticuffs. With one arm almost totally worthless, and the other quickly following, that was an unpleasant option.

Disadvantages aside, Iden was still the nimble aggressor. He had been circling KB, evading the slashes as best he could while it lasted. Now, he moved in swiftly to capitalize on his foe's momentary stillness. Taking a leap at the last possible moment, Iden was trying a risky maneuver; he was attempting to wrap his calves around the upper half of KB's head. From there, momentum would take over; Iden would swing forward over his foe, with the point of contact being a pivot. When the young DeSeer came to the ground behind the elder vampire, he would become the pivot, attempting to use his whole body, cranked out with as much force as could be managed, to bodily sling KB...right into the sunlight.

After all, if his foe was going to shield himself and make striking difficult, then what other alternative was there? Iden knew this was risky. The defensively held wing could turn this maneuver around should KB's sight return too swiftly; Iden could only pray it did not.

His legs wrapped around the elder's dome, and squeezed. Then it popped free, leaving Iden with a single though:

Oh. ******** than launching KB into the burning sun, Iden found himself sailing along on a one-way trip into a lovely charcoal-shaded tan. He landed in a very rough roll, and skipped to his feet nigh instantly. It was a blessing that so little of his body was exposed; only where KB had ripped up would burn.

Even son, his neck, shoulders and face were ablaze. Iden's functioning arm lifted to shield his eyes, but damn if he wasn't in agony supreme. His legs pounded against the blood-slicked ground to haul a** into the shade, knowing full well that more than a scant few seconds and the sun would literally hollow him out with cleansing fire. If KB capitolized on this, God help the young DeSeer; he could only do so much and still make it to safety. Truth be told, enemy attack was just about the last thing on Iden's mind.