James Bisonette stood there, twirling his officer's dagger, contemplating his next move as he faced off against Failhür, who was visibly enraged and breathing heavily. "You're not getting out of this one alive, Failhür," James said confidently. "HA! I'LL RIP YOUR HEART OUT!" Failhür roared back, his eyes darting back and forth. The two opponents circled each other, weapons at the ready. James had heard tales of Failhür's rage, and while he knew he had superior training and weaponry, there was no telling what the unpredictable and unstable opponent would do. Suddenly, Failhür began his now-infamous speech, his voice booming through the arena. "IT WAS AN ORDER! STEINER'S ATTACK WAS AN ORDER! HOW DARE THEY LIE TO ME!? THE GENERALS ARE You BUNCH OF COWARDS!" James rolled his eyes, knowing there was no reasoning with the man now. Failhür's rage consumed him, and his power skyrocketed, as did his speed. James quickly called in his mercenary armies, knowing he needed all the help he could get. As they entered the arena, Failhür charged at James with a primal scream, his power now four times what it had been just moments ago. James was ready, however, deflecting each blow from Failhür's makeshift weapon, a heavy tree branch he had torn from the ground. James had learned ancient warrior fighting tactics and knew exactly how to disarm his opponent. As James closed in for the finishing blow, a sudden magic shield erupted from Failhür, stopping James in his tracks. "HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT!" Failhür screamed, his voice echoing through the arena. James mentally kicked himself for forgetting about Failhür's magic power. He quickly released his own magic, a golden light that surrounded him and his army. The golden aura was enough to break through Failhür's shield, leaving him vulnerable once again. With a fierce yell, James plunged his dagger into Failhür's heart, ending the fight. He emerged victorious, albeit bruised and battered, but he knew that was the price of battle.