"The exercising of weapons putteth away aches, griefs, and diseases, it increaseth strength and sharpeneth the wits, it giveth a perfect judgment, it expelleth melancholy, choleric, and evil conceits, it keepeth a man in breath, in perfect healthe, and long life." – George Silver (1599)

This page has a ton of anecdotes about bloody old school Old World fencing duels and the grievous wounds inflicted, that but paused the blood-ardor in the opponents eyes, until like a mad dying boar he runs you through and through too.
Gerome Jean Leon - Duel after a Masked Ball
Here is a good tale:

While the previous tale seems amazing enough, hardly anyone can tell a story more incredible than that witnessed by R. Deerhurst. Two duelists, identified only as “His Grace, the Duke of B ” and “Lord B “, after an exchange of exceptionally cordial letters of challenge met in the early morning to conduct their affair with pistols and swords. The combat began with a pistol ball inflicting a slight wound to the Duke’s thumb. A second firing was exchanged in which Lord B was then wounded slightly. Each then immediately drew his sword and rushed upon the other with reckless ferocity. After an exchange of only one or two thrusts, the two became locked corps a corps. Struggling to free themselves by “repeated wrenches,” they finally separated enough to allow the Duke to deliver a thrust which entered the inside of Lord B ’s sword arm and exited the outside of the arm at the elbow. Incredible as it may seem, his Lordship was still able to manage his sword and eventually drove home a thrust just above Duke B ’s right nipple. Transfixed on his Lordship’s blade, the Duke nevertheless continued, attempting repeatedly to direct a thrust at his Lordship’s throat. With his weapon fixed in His Grace’s chest, Lord B now had no means of defense other than his free arm and hand. Attempting to grasp the hostile blade, he lost two fingers and mutilated the remainder. Finally, the mortally wounded Duke penetrated the bloody parries of Lord B’s hand with a thrust just below Lord B ’s heart.

In the Hollywood swashbucklers this scene might well have have ended at this point, if not long before, but real life often seems to have a more incredible, and certainly in this case, more romantic outcome. Locked together at close quarters and unable to withdraw their weapons from each other’s bodies for another thrust, the two stood embracing each other in a death grip. At this point the seconds, attempting to intercede, begged the pair to stop. Neither combatant would agree, however, and there they both remained, each transfixed upon the blade of the other until, due to extensive blood loss, his Lordship finally collapsed. In doing so, he withdrew his sword from the Duke’s body and, staggering briefly, fell upon his weapon, breaking the blade in two. A moment later, the “victorious” Duke deliberately snapped his own blade and, with a sigh, fell dead upon the corpse of his adversary.

I think this goes to show that chopping is the preferred way to attack the enemy because it cuts through or batters away the opponent – once their forearm cut to or through the bone, they aren’t holding a sword and once a sword chops into their skull they can’t swing a sword and once any tendon or muscle is cut, they become closer to a puppets with cut strings.

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