Thrown by Lung

But I’d underestimated him, it seemed, because as I came through the flames, sword poised to slice into his side, he grabbed my wrist again and heaved me up and off my feet. I didn’t have even a moment to struggle — he pulled me up and tossed me back like a sack of potatoes, and I went flying, skidding and rolling on the ground until I came to a rest some thirty or forty feet away. Somehow, probably because of Siegfried’s instincts and skills, I’d managed to keep hold of Balmung, but I wasn’t hurt. If he’d gotten me by my ankle and slammed me back-first into the ground, I might’ve been in trouble, but that was my advantage: as long as no one knew I was using Siegfried and that I had all of his strengths and his weaknesses, no one who fought me would think I was any more vulnerable on my back than I was any other part of my body.