( They're on the same page; this is hardly the first monster he's fought that didn't seem to die from a head wound or decapitation. It's simple: if all else fails, you chop it into tiny little pieces and then, if necessary, you set those pieces on fire or you scatter them a few miles in every direction.
But the head's still a good place to start.
A second and a half after Geralt pins it, Dean's sword is coming down in tandem like a well-choreographed maneuver. Right above the metal collar at its throat, severing through straps of leather, sending the hunk of teeth-chattering flesh rolling a few feet away in the dust.
The limbs continue to flail, tearing its own flesh on desert rock, snapping away its own fingernails as it claws for leverage and purchase. It reaches up to try and drive that spike into Geralt's face, and so the arm goes next, whacked cleanly off at the elbow. The hand that hits the dirt goes finally, blessedly still — which means they're on the right track.
The next few minutes are spent on the gross, painstaking process of chopping away limbs one after another until body parts and iron fastenings litter the ground around them. )
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But the head's still a good place to start.
A second and a half after Geralt pins it, Dean's sword is coming down in tandem like a well-choreographed maneuver. Right above the metal collar at its throat, severing through straps of leather, sending the hunk of teeth-chattering flesh rolling a few feet away in the dust.
The limbs continue to flail, tearing its own flesh on desert rock, snapping away its own fingernails as it claws for leverage and purchase. It reaches up to try and drive that spike into Geralt's face, and so the arm goes next, whacked cleanly off at the elbow. The hand that hits the dirt goes finally, blessedly still — which means they're on the right track.
The next few minutes are spent on the gross, painstaking process of chopping away limbs one after another until body parts and iron fastenings litter the ground around them. )