Wraithfords look of pure shock at his weapons disappearance caused Saimans smile to grow. This creature wasn a monster. It was essentially human. It felt emotion. And the emotion across Wraithfords face was clear. Without his weapons, he was in trouble.
Wraithford threw back his head and let out a furious roar. The audience thundered with excitement. They didn seem to mind who won the fight. They just wanted it to be an entertaining one. Freaks. Wraithford brought both his hands to his mouth and ripped out all of his fingerteeth in a practiced motion. Hundreds. Hundreds of fingerteeth flew in Saimans direction.
Lightning from his thunderstorm zapped targets at random. Wraithford had countered his spell. They acted like a shield, absorbing the damage for their host. Each zap left a fingertooth dead and smoking in the colosseums sand. Like Wraithford himself, the fingerteeth had low health. Armed with that knowledge, Saiman retreated from the attacks. His eyes scoured the sand until he found what he wanted, a pair of daggers that gleamed in the green torchlight of the arena. He dodged past several fingerteeth to retrieve the two daggers from the sand. Fingerteeth coiled and sprang on all sides, their own teeth bared, but Saiman spun and swayed out of the range of their attacks. His arms were a blur as he stabbed fingertooth after fingertooth.
But something was wrong. What was Wraithford doing while Saiman fought the countless fingerteeth? Panic flared as Saiman realized exactly what he was doing. Saiman listened past the cheer of the crowd, past the grunts, growls and squeals of the fingerteeth. Until he heard it, the arcane mumbling of Wraithford casting a spell. If skeletal hands reached from the ground and stopped his movement like before, the fingerteeth would eat him alive.
Pain exploded in his leg as a fingertooth wriggled from beneath the sand and bit deep into Saimans thigh. Panic flared as red blood poured from the wound into the revolting creature. A quick stab through its fingernail dispatched it quickly before Saiman flew toward Wraithford. His daggers sliced through jumping fingerteeth along the way. He rolled under another fingertooths launched attack before he aimed his finger like a gun, right at Wraithfords face. Saiman imagined the spell to be small and compact.