Dias watched Claude's sword go up carefully, bringing his own up in what was intended to look like the beginnings of a block. It was only when he'd gauged that the blow's momentum had become irreversible that he swept his blade out of the way, actually flinging it several yards to the side even as he felt Claude's blade begin to bite into his flesh.

It was a sharp sword, and a strong blow(and, in what Dias distantly thought was overkill, one that spewed sparks as it went, burning him as it cut). He'd been hoping for something immediately fatal, but a wound this large and deep, particularly on top of the other wounds he'd taken, would be more than enough...he'd nearly died to the one the bandits had given him, and that was comparatively small.

He kept his feet momentarily, but shock and lightheadedness hit him soon enough, and he dropped to the floor as his knees buckled.