Sandor chose not to meet the raging beast head-on.
He moved nimbly, using his longsword's reach to keep searching for fresh openings in the Mountain's defenses.
His blade scraped across the Mountain's armor again and again, sending showers of sparks flying.
But Gregor seemed to have abandoned defense altogether. All he wanted was to get his hands on Sandor.
His wounds were bleeding, and his injured leg made him stagger.
Yet that only drove him into a greater frenzy, making him even more reckless!
The tension in the stands reached its peak.
Everyone held their breath, staring unblinkingly at the two figures locked in combat.
One was as ponderous and savage as a mountain; the other was agile and deadly.
Bang!
During a perilous dodge, the Mountain's enormous fist grazed Sandor's cheek and slammed into the stone railing behind him.
A deafening crash rang out!
But in avoiding that crushing blow, Sandor stumbled as well, pitching helplessly toward a huge brazier used to light the grounds!
A wave of scorching air struck his face.
The roaring flames suddenly filled Sandor's vision!
Whoosh!
Sandor's mind went utterly blank.
Time seemed to stop.
The thunderous uproar around him seemed to disappear.
Gregor's vicious, twisted face vanished too.
Nothing remained in his world but those orange-red flames that seemed capable of devouring everything.
The night twenty years ago rose before his eyes again, as vivid as ever.
All because he had played with Gregor's toy as a little boy, Gregor had held him down in the fire and burned his face!
He seemed to smell his own flesh scorching.
He heard Gregor's excited, cruel laughter.
He felt that searing pain deep in his bones, the agony he could never escape or forget!
"Ah..."
A moan of boundless terror escaped Sandor's throat.
His sword