Brax's axe blow was intercepted by the boy, and before he could attack again a magic spell was flung in his face. The enraged bandit staggered back, left hand going to his face, while his right managed to keep hold of his axe. They both spouted off meaningless words. Trying to tell him that giving up now and living would be better. But they were wrong. He had no crew anymore, which meant he had basically lost all respect in the bandit community. Not to mention the fact that even his own daughter had left him. He would rather die now in battle than give up and die somewhere else down the road, alone.
As soon as his vision returned, Brax was on the attack again. "If you want to live, then you'll have to kill me!" He roared, throwing everything he had in a sideways axe swing. People had told him that the road he had chosen, the life of banditry, would lead to an early death. He had always known they had been right. At least he had got to see his little girl grow up.