Shashoh never had any problem with a melee fight. What was happening? He wasn't any weaker. The dragon-like creature wasn't bigger than anything he fought before. Even worse, Dalavesta and Cifero didn't wait for his strike and fired... normally he wouldn't need an exterior help at all. His speed and dragonsteel were always making it so easy. Now this monster survived more than one bolt without a scratch and he just couldn't see it's thoughts. All dragons were connected. Shashoh had dragon blood in him, enough to hear those thoughts and have even further advantage. Now he was driven into a wall and tried to get a grip on himself as Grace approached.
He still had a lot of tricks up his sleeves. He threw away his bent armor, which could be just as well made of leaves, took out a metallic ball, twisted and threw it away as it started to puff out black smoke. What is your weakness, fiend? he thought as he tried to find Grace in the smoke, then realized he can't find any smell nor hear any footsteps. Magic... I can take care of that.
Grace observed in radar, infrared and ultrasonic as Shashoh struggles to find her, then takes out a handful of gold coins and throws them around. Grace stepped on one of the coins, pressing it into the glassed ground with a sizzle, however muffled completely due to noise cancelling. She gripped him from behind and threw at the same wall as before.
Ugh... it wasn't supposed to make me blind, Shashoh thought in pain, then through thinning smoke he saw the rest of the battlefield and the demonic shadows that started to appear. His soul was immersed in sorrow and despair.
He wasn't going to give up the war, but he accepted that this battle was undeniably lost. He uncovered himself from rubble and pounced into the sky to escape. He glanced down to look for Grace, but she was still covered in the smoke. Suddenly he felt literally bonecrushing impact from behind, which was Grace smashing into him from above, then a similar one from the front, which was the solid ground. He spat out blood and just lied there, unable to move, not even noticing his legs were frozen and now completely shattered below knees.
"Why did you attack?" Grace asked as she dragged his head up by his ears, somehow containing emotions of wrath and grief in her forever emotionless voice.
"I--hunt dragons," Shashoh said with difficulty and certainly without enough clarity of mind to think of something witty.
Grace stood there, holding his mutilated body for a moment, then she dropped it and stomped on his head, making the ground tremble.
"I am not a dragon."