Forged Destiny [Book 4: Ch. 5]

My armour was dragging me down. The breastplate was heavy, made even more so by all the additional weight I'd tacked onto it after the Lancer's spear had pierced through. That had been a good idea against Watts and the Grimm, but it would be my undoing now. All my Strength meant little in the water, and my heart raced.

Stay calm, I thought, fighting to ignore the burning in my lungs. I was sinking further, but the ocean floor wasn't that deep in the strait.  Tearing off my gloves and letting them sink away, I started to frantically tug at the leather straps holding my armour in place. The water made it harder than it had to be, and my shaking probably didn't help, but I managed to snap one open and loosen one side. Already struggling to breathe, I didn't bother with the other, and instead wriggled out.

The breastplate sank like a stone as I kicked myself free.

[...]

"We did rescue your sword, but your armour was nowhere to be seen."

"I left it on the ocean floor," I croaked. "Too heavy."

—Forged Destiny [Book 4: Ch. 5]