Vilgax sword swing

His sword ran through the skull of the guardsman and cleanly out the chitin of the torso. Severed teeth flew out to clatter against the marbled floors before the Greatest Gate, the last barrier between the insurgency and the King. The protectorate were mere grass to be mowed, their golden cuirasses peeled through one half-dozen to a swing. Oh, well. At least they died in shiny armor. Maybe that meant something for them.

- Round 0