The sonic howl that had aided the beast warrior so many times in the past seem to have little or no effect on this vicious creature. Writhing and bucking like this, Dreizehn had little hope of holding on to his footing. Digging his claws in only seemed to cause him to scrabble over the beasts helm and it was impossible to get the proper leverage now with his chain to remain in this position long. It was the creatures arrogant voice echoing in his thoughts that made him choose his next course of action. Right or wrong, he was going to make this monster pay for his words, even if it cost him his life.

"Sie wollen rau spielen? Fein!"
"You want to play rough? Fine!"

Dreizehn crouches down and smashes his into the creatures dark brown head plate. At first it seems he may try to beat his way into the creatures brains, but then he suddenly lets go of the sickle portion of his Soul Sting and takes a flying leap from the Donkere's head. As he drops he holds tight to his mace. If the beast opens its mouth to try and snatch him from the air, he can recover his sickle, if it doesn't then the blade does have the chance of removing this abomination from this plane of existence in thirty minutes. If only Dreizehn thought he'd live that long. All he had going for him was his parting gift.

Any moment now, the beasts head plate would be reacting to the maces destructive effects, preparing to explode with incredible force. He had no way of knowing if this would remove his enemies head or merely give him a headache, either way he was at the mercy of the moment, sailing through the air, literally at the end of his rope. Or chain in this case.