Broding held up Dragonclaw, as a red blade ricocheted off the dragonbone pole. He pushed forward, and the Seeker was flung back, but only for a second. With a speed and fury his opponent attacked, and for the first time during the fight, Broding was pushed to the defensive. Unlike when he had the advantage, those blows had enough force behind them to deal some serious damage, even to the warrior who was believed to be Immortal. However, besides the sheer power of the attacks, Broding was driven into the defensive by an almost instinctive fear. The inner knowledge, somewhere inside him, that he was facing something that wanted nothing more than to kill him. A killing will stronger than any hate or fear known by man, a murderous intent so powerful it was almost physically manifested, a frenzy instilled by the spirits of slaughter. And at that moment Broding quite literally growled, his mind rejecting the notion that any opponent, even for a moment, had panicked him.

Sweeping aside another attack, Broding moved forward. The hound, like a shark engaging it's prey, shot forward instantly to take advantage of the new situation, both blades flashing forward. However, Broding instead grabbed Bloodseeker's head, holding him just outside the blade's reach. The incredible length of the giant's arms allowed for him to hold the smaller Strygwyrr at sufficient distance, that the blade's didn't reach his chest. However, it would be but moments until the Hound realized this, and instead struck out at the arm holding him. As such, Broding, who had also taken into account how the battle around him had evolved, realized an opportunity to destroy two opponents with a single stone. Or, rather, projectile. Laughing, Broding threw Bloodseeker straight at the mysterious woman, a streaking red comet of whirling blades hurled with enormous force, like the world's most deadly close-range catapult.