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Chapter 4Arc 6: : Melee
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... my helm, loud and bestial where it escaped the lattice of small holes in the mask. My whole body quivered with energy, with the aftershock of countless blows, with my own suppressed desire to keep moving, keep swinging.
But there was nothing left to swing at. Only a young soldier who’d probably been a squire not long before the tourney kneeling at my feet, his sword held in slightly trembling hands.
“I yield, ser.” The boy was also breathing hard. “I yield.”
Coward, an ug ...
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