There was pain, and it only got worse. Bones, blood and gore. It was almost beyond endurance. Almost. The whole leg was on fire. Adara Raxis now, was a distant memory with Irella Vizsla, Koda Fett and Abel Australis. Only the pain and the combat remained.
Vizsla had hold of him by the left wrist, which had the advantage of stopping Kaine from toppling to the ground. It had the disadvantage that Vizsla was wearing crushgaunts and his left wrist was in serious danger of going the way of his leg.
Crack went Ronan's helmet to his, and the Warmaster's head snapped back, smoke rising from his own buy'ce.
His visor was cracked, and the integrity indicator on the HUD went directly from green to red without stopping at yellow.
Kaine's hand spasmed with the additional shock and pain, and he dropped the sword, which clattered to the ground. That left Kaine's right arm momentarily free, and he angled that wrist at Ronan's shattered faceplate.
See you in hell, thought the Warmaster, through the agony.
He activated the wrist-mounted flame projector at point blank range. At this range, he'd burn himself. He didn't care.
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