The broadsword dropped out of Rider’s hand and clattered to the ground, the lines it had cut into Berserker’s arm dripping blood that stood out in stark contrast against his ashen skin. The Empress of Russia clawed at his grip with limp fingers that were unable to pry his hand away from her throat, her eyes beginning to cloud over and grow dim as the part of Berserker’s mind that held anything other than primal rage recognised the weakening struggles as signs that the opponent was beginning to fade away.

The mad Servant was not content to just wait for the inevitable however. He turned his body so that he held Rider out to his side rather than in front of him, shifting his weight as the muscles in his arm tensed in preparation. He raised his arm, lifting Rider above his head by his one handed grip around her throat and brought her down on his other side, slamming her bodily into the ground with as much strength as his dying body could muster. He lifted her up again and brought her down on his other side, swinging her over his head like a rag-doll and whipping her into the ground.

Letting out a roar of inarticulate and directionless rage Berserker raised the defeated Servant a third time, veins and muscles popping out against his skin as blood gushed from his open wounds with more intensity. He slammed Rider into the ground a final time and held her down against the shatter floor of her palace.

[@DrowsyPangolin]