People didn't usually try to drag him down with them. Sure, when he'd been younger and wrestling with his friends, it was a common maneuver. And why was this situation any different? The look on Farfarello's face was both utterly unfamiliar and totally familiar at the same time - a look that read of pure bloodlust and malice, sadism and death.

As Caim was pulled toward the floor, he saw the knee come up. He had barely a second to make the decision to either move and avoid being nailed in the chest but lose his opportunity to be on top, or not get hurt but slam into the ground instead. Grinding his teeth together again (he had taken a moment's worth of joy in feeling Farfarello's ribs crack under his fist, but there wasn't any time to enjoy it now), Caim jerked himself to the side and avoided the knee in his stomach.

Not winded but now at a diadvantage, Caim attempted to whip out an arm to crush Farfarello's neck under his palm. Or, if that failed, strangle him into unconsciousness ... and rend him asunder after that.