Forged Destiny [Book 3: Ch. 14]

There wasn't any time for other plans, and there wasn't one of us that could realistically take this guy's hits. I was the worst at fighting back, however – so if anyone was going to be knocked out of the fight, it was best if it were me.

I looked to my shield by the back wall, but dismissed it with a shake of my head. Instead, I held Crocea Mors in both hands, the grip long enough to facilitate it when needed. As an after-thought, I also undid the straps on my armour and let it fall down. It wouldn't do me any good, and at least the baggy tunic I wore underneath wouldn't limit my movements. The amulet I wore was tucked underneath still, the chord hanging loose around my throat.

Bereft of shield, of armour and of any protection – I'd only have one chance. But wasn't that the same either way? If my shield couldn't hold up, then my breastplate certainly wouldn't. With a quick growl, I charged in, moving faster than I could before now that all the added weight was left behind.

—Forged Destiny [Book 3: Ch. 14]