"Die! Why won't you just die?! Why?!"
Varnacus's rage robbed him of coordination. With one arm severed, he could only use his right fist, maintaining a rhythm to conserve his strength through efficient movements.
Right fist after right fist after right fist, the intervals growing longer as his favored limb tired.
Madness gradually consumed his thoughts. He lost the ability to think, lost the ability to understand, yet one troubling thought lingered like a ghost in the corner of his soul.
He had slaughtered countless lives, tortured who knew how many people to death. No matter how noble a life was, it had always been so fragile in his hands.
But why? Why was it so difficult to take this Greenskin monster's life?
Was he still not strong enough? Had the Blood God stopped favoring him?
Trouble bred doubt, and doubt gave rise to terror.
His arm began to tremble slightly...
Another punch. It hurt even more.
Hagrid endured.
A stream of incoherent curses burst from Varnacus's throat as he struck again and again.
Hagrid kept enduring.
Then he caught an opening to strike back.
Hagrid wrapped his left arm around Varnacus's right arm, then pressed it against his torso.
"Waaagh!!"
When the Ork heaved upward with all his strength, the two of them flipped over.
This time, Hagrid was on top.
Before Varnacus realized the reversal, Hagrid had the chance to land a satisfying blow.
He drove out a punch with all his strength.
"Ugh!"
The blow caved in Varnacus's cheek, broke one of Hagrid's fingers, and left a pool of blood on the rock beneath Varnacus's head.
"Waaaaagh!"
Then Hagrid drove an elbow into his opponent's face with every ounce of strength in his body.
The other man's scream was immediately choked back down his throat.
Ignoring the