Eventually, Fyroh managed to knock Xor off guard, and before Xor could do anything about it, he was on his back, with a two handed sword thrust through his heart. He smiled softly. "You know, Fyroh, I'm proud of you. You've been a better match than your father... if only I could meet him again. He was a good man." Fyroh gasped. "You killed my father?!" Xor nodded, still smiling innocently. "Mmmhmm. Tell Vlaardi that, too. He'll be pleased to know." Fyrohs' face erupted into fury, as he thrust the sword further down, reaching the ground. The smile faded from Xors face. Black blood began to form around the blade. "I'm tired of playing your games now. Begone." Xor muttered.
A sudden electricity jolt from Xors heart shot up the blade, and somehow got through the handle of the sword, and Fyrohs gauntlets. He jumped back from the pain; Xor pulled the sword out of his body effortlessly, and took a horribly fast, powerful and deadly swipe at Fyroh; sending him flying back, skidding along the ground. His chain mail had snapped, broken, and Fyroh was on the ground, with no signs of movement. A heavy thunderstorm descended afterwards, and Xor thrust the sword into the ground, before flying away into the distance. Olhal was already at Fyrohs side, checking his wounds.