In Tzirret's mind, there was a secondary battle between his fear and his attention. Gallus' orders were all that was keeping him from transforming involuntarily.

It took a moment for Tzirret to get into a position where he could strike. He was at first afraid to get within the minotaur's reach, especially as it flailed wildly at a deft Gallus. In the panic of the situation, that moment went on for longer than anyone would have liked.

Each time Gallus dodged, he stepped back, closer to a wall behind him. In a vain effort to get more ground, he lashed out at the minotaur's arm with a swing of his hammer. The hammer landed true on the beast's wrist, but it did not have the desired effect of driving the creature back. Gallus was exposed. In the instant he realised as much, Gallus took a fist to the chest and almost flew backwards with the force of the blow. He dropped his hammer and torch as he stumbled back against the wall behind him.

At witnessing the strike, Tzirret gasped and hesitated.

Gallus took a very audible, wheezy breath in. He was winded and weakened, but the minotaur was intent on charging again.

Tzirret had frozen again, but his eyes landed on the exposed side of the minotaur's torso as she leaned her horns forward. Tzirret's response was almost unconscious. He could kill it. In one movement, he thrust his spear forward, directly between the minotaur's ribs. He sunk the metal tip in with all his strength, not being aware of being in the creature's reach. If he got the spear in far enough, he knew it would die. It would have to.