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Karel raised her shield up. She was a swift fighter herself, made moreso by the might of the ancestor's blade and though her block was far from effortless, it was more than enough to survive the blow that would have punctured her slender chest. Grunting, the force of the blow sent her back a step before she retaliated with a swing of her glowing blade, the red aether crackling around it as a small 'heh' escaped her lips. She hadn't felt this exhilarating since her fight against Nix, and it showed. What wasn't shown was the anxiety she felt that she pushed down as she faced her opponent with a serene confidence.

Given her recoil from the initial thrust he had time to prepare by planting his feet; this this allowed him to out step, kicking back with just about the same measure of speed he used to get in before he seemingly hit some imaginary wall just beyond the range of that crackling blade; as it passed he would cross his left hand in swing toward his own right, putting a sharp blow at the back of her sword hand in an attempt at making her over extend that swing while he simultaneously kicked forward once again and attempted to drive that estoc through the right shoulder of his opponent. If it pierced he would force it all the way through before shoving the handle upward, aiming to point the tip toward the ground before driving the point nto the sand and her along with it.

Giving a gasp at his sudden assault, Karel stood firm. Despite the swift swing to her sword hand, she proved much more hardy and far more physically apt than anyone would assume just looking at her. Maintaining her balance with her sword, she twisted her body just so that the estoc went just over beside her cheek. Drawing a deep breath, she whipped her clenched sword hand out, aiming to stun him with a well placed blow to the chin with the handle of her blade, ready to follow it up with a swift stab to the chest if it connected.
He watched as she twisted, eyes following the movement closely, same as he saw the arm twitch in order to retaliate; left arm crossed the right, aiming to catch the pommel of her blade in the palm of his hand to prevent the blow to his jaw. At the same time as this connection, Nikolas would lift his left leg and stomp it toward the outside for a mule kick toward her right knee cap... Whether it succeeded or not, he did not directly release her hand, nor would she find it easy to retrieve either. The pressure he had mounted to a bone crushing intensity in a matter of a few short moments. Not just from the fingers, but from all sides, as if some unknown force was gripping at it.

She gave a small grunt as she was sent to a knee, a gasp escaping from her throat as she lost her balance. Still, despite the hefty amounts of strength he squeezed around her hand, she did not yield. If anything, she seemed to fight against it with determination and incredible amounts of physical strength, especially from one of her own size. Sweat beaded on her face as she pulled back her free hand, sparks of electricity crackling upon it. Though unable to free her captured hand from his grasp, she could try to make him relinquish her as she sent her clenched fist not into his face, but right into the gut. A surge of lightning would strike her impact zone as her fist hit home.

The estoc was already rolling in his palm before she even hit the ground, preparing for its next move even before he felt the positive charge of energy suddenly chirping from her first. Dropping to his left knee, right foot still planted, Nikolas would aim to drive his estoc through her thigh and folded calf, straight into the ground. It didn't stop until the tip was in the dirt beneath this sand, cross guard dug to her leg before the blow to his gut sent sudden jolt of extreme pain up the entirety of his right side; it traveled from his stomach up the ribs, across the length of his arm and than down through the length of his blade before dispersing in the ground. It did nothing to relinquish his grip, which actually only grew tighter as his muscles seized up so suddenly... It would relax upon the exit of energy, but if his estoc should pierce her body that she too would know the pain of that electricity before the grounding took effect. All the same he did get the worst of it... [cThe point of impact would have a clear burn upon its surface, a little bit of smoke even rising from the skin.

She gave a small sob as the sword went in her leg, and though she tried her hardest, she couldn't help but let out a loud cry of pain as the blade pined her down into the sand. If it hadn't been for the fact he was holding her sword hand, she would have fallen down already. Feeling the jolt of the electrical surge going through her, she didn't seem to react as much as he did as she tried to steady herself in these moments. Her free hand immediately raced to Rishi's knife she had kept on her belt. Seizing it, she drew the small blade and drove it straight for his gut as tears rolled down her gentle cheeks.

A deep, piercing yell of unbridled rage tore through his chest as she made that sudden movement. Nikolas spread his off hand, releasing her sword arm before issuing a crushing blow of raw telekinetic force to spread out in a cone and overwhelm her. Point blank as they currently were there would be no avoiding it, especially not the hand he held. The force would be equivalent to a man throwing his weight into her torso, aiming to drive her body backward before she even had a chance to draw that knife. This should give him time to spring toward his feet and attempt to circle around toward her back. With the estoc keeping her in place, she shouldn't exactly be going anywhere... And while the burn on his side hurt like hell, it also seems to have got his adrenaline pumping.

There was a loud 'smack' of the blow hitting home. Another cry of pain issued from her lips, and this time she couldn't stop herself from the unrestrained weeping. There wasn't even an attempt for her to try and stop him from circling around as her free hand grabbed the estoc and began to try and slowly pull it out, a loud ear-piercing screech more akin to an animal's cry than a human's issuing throughout the arena. Her back was exposed, but that hardly mattered as she tried to rise, only to faceplant on the ground. Dragging her bleeding body, she looked back and closed her eyes. She didn't expect any mercy and though she knew she wouldn't die here, she didn't want to give her opponent the satisfaction of seeing the fear in her eyes.

It would be as she fell forward into the sand that he sprung... A foot stomping for the center of her spine, pinning her in place while both of his hands lifted toward the forgotten blades and summed them toward his palms. In a blink they left their buried sheaths to materialize in his hands; tips pointed down, he thrust each estoc through her shoulders until the cross guards met flesh. That is when he would try to disarm her with a lazy swipe of the hand, attempting to send her weapons flying off into the distance before he dropped down on his knees and took the girl by her hair... A sharp jerk back would lift her face the ground and expose her neck, yet he didn't go for the kill. A true gladiator, he turned his attention to the audience; while the right hand would present Karel to the crowd, his left hand would lift to hold a thumb pointed toward the side. Yay or nay? Live or die. That, was up to the people.

A look of horror fills Karel's eyes at hearing the last voice call. She begins to utter "no... please..." but trails off and closes her eyes, consigned to her fate.

Those words would hardly be uttered from her lips before an archaic looking set of shears would manifest in the palm of his hoisted hand. Rusted iron, stained red and curved in a peculiar way on both blades. A hand that turned the thumb down, as if to momentarily mock his opponent before a sudden and likely painful sensation should overwhelm her jaw; it would be dislocated at each joint, before spread to the point where the very corners of her lips would begin to tear open. A force would grip her tongue, pulling it forward to extend from her maw before he brought that strange set of scissors to curl around her extended muscle and close gently around it. Than snip off came the tongue, followed by a gush of blood to rival the cutting of ones throat; and while she would un-doubtably begin gushing red though her teeth, he would collect that appendage with a little swipe before rising from his knees and stepping away. All three blades would remove themselves from her body on [c] their own accord without ever being touched. While they returned to each of their own respective homes, Nikolas himself would set to the task of stringing that muscle on a rope, that he would then tie around his own neck. The start of a new collection.

Re-materializing this time around as her old corpse soon disappeared, Karel's first thing to do was to find a wall. Lean against it. Sit down in a fetal position and begin to bawl her eyes out. Of all the times she'd been stabbed, burned, or otherwise injured in the arena, this had to be the icing to the cake. She looked around, calling a few names "mother", "Odo" and the like before finally falling quiet.