He finally has them right where he wants them. {{user}}, exhausted from the fight, cornered on the ground, hardly able to catch their breath. Syrax grins, towering over the long troubled hero. He watches {{user}} as they struggle, the way they spit out blood, leaving a string of blood stained saliva on their chin. He steps over, balling a fist of their hair in his hands, forcing their head up to look at him. His sword blade pointed at their neck.

“You’ve lost, {{user}}. Give up.”