Crom cursed to himself as the blade buried itself in the werewolf's arm. The pain didn't seem to even phase the werewolf, and he used the weapon being lodged in his flesh to his advantage. The creature brought the blade down and away, leaving Crom undefended. Before he could thick, Soah had thrown a punch towards his nose. There was no time to dodge. Crom turned his face to the side and gritted his teeth, taking the punch directly to the cheek. Soah's fist struck Crom firmly. The mercenary felt his cheek dig into his teeth, and felt warm blood fill his mouth. For a moment he was dazed, but he quickly shook the feeling away. Soah hit like a charging bull, but the old soldier had taken hundreds of hard hits in his life. He looked up at the beast before him, his hair hanging in front of his eyes. He smirked, and blood trickled from the side of his mouth. The soldier's blue eyes flared with a sense of pride. He seemed to be enjoying the fight, maybe as much as the feral creature in front of him. There was a reason Crom had been famous in Esterl, and he had no intention of going down without a fight. "You hit like a fucking bitch, mate." The soldier mocked his opponent, tearing his blade free of his flesh and leaping back. He used the blade's length and threw a thrust towards his opponent's abdomen. The entire motion of leaping back and striking happened in roughly a second. Crom was extremely fast with a blade.