That is certainly not something they expected from a lizard woman's arsenal.

There's a loud snapping echo, and a series of events transpire that the Drifter cannot quite track or even comprehend, at present. It takes them entirely off guard; she moves faster than she has any right to and slams into their middle in a burst of incredible force that lays them flat on their back with a pained wheeze deep in the center of their chest.

Further damage sustained.

If this were life-and-death combat, perhaps they would have reasonable incentive to continue. But at this rate, they risk more permanent injury for the sake of a scrap - and truth be told, it is no great crime to be bested by an opponent such as she.

The Drifter lets their sword drop into the sand, and they raise both hands, palms out, trying not to wince in the process.

They yield.