Same as Sigurd could perhaps say in regards to swordmanship, Gigue's experience in wrestling spanned throughout the entirety of his life, save for childhood: thus, even in his current state, the subtle shifting of weight onto the grappled leg did not escape him. That could only mean one thing: rather than struggling in vain to escape his grasp, the warrior made the better decision of retaliating, with the purpose of weakening Gigue even further.

Unfortunately for him, there was far more than met the eye to the mammoth brawler. Not just savvy, thanks to which he found his way in grappling range like fish in sea, but also knowledge of the sacred arts: magic. Knowing that his opponent would not idle, Gigue peeled his gaze from the ground, and while his vision was blurred, the shield was too large of an object to not see. His eye captured the motion, and mind instantly reacted; body still too sluggish to move in time, he instead activated the charge of Hyperarmor he had been saving. The shield's rim impacted his back, a spike of pressure and sharp jolt of pain coming through, before an impermeable sheen of magic spread atop his skin, halting it in the nick of time.

It won him a couple seconds, and in that time, he somewhat recuperated - enough for a quick takedown. Wrapping his right arm tight around the shin, he hooked his left onto the man's belt and pushed off with both legs, falling flat on his back, while bringing Sigurd down as well. Though, unlike Gigue, he'd land face downwards, from where taking a proper swing or stab would be nigh impossible; the brawler knew this, and would use this as an opportunity to rest, right after he had his opponent's position the ground secured. Right already securing one leg, his left hand reached out to grab the other, after which he'd tuck both underneath his armpits, making sure that he trapped them above the knee and not below, as to further restrict Sigurd's range of movement. That would make him relatively safe: trying to land a hit on Gigue, the warrior risked hitting himself on the leg instead; moreover, he simply would be able to muster a hit strong enough to penetrate the leather armor, which covered all but the brawler's hands - a tricky target to hit.

With that done, he'd take a breath in, breath out, wait until his head stopped aching from every exertion and then gulp, forcing the bile back to his stomach from the throat. All in all, just a couple seconds, before he'd finally bring the pain.