Forged Destiny [Book 8: Ch. 6]

The moment I came within range, he lashed out, eyes glinting as he cut upward with sudden speed, his sword a blur of red steel. If I hadn't been ready for it, I'd have been cut from groin to shoulder, but I had been and Crocea Mors rang with the impact, blocking it low. Keeping our blades locked there, I rushed in with my shoulder and pinned him to the back railing, determined to knock him off and into the ocean below.

It might not kill him, but he'd be out of the fight, and I'd like to see him get back on with Weiss hurling spells into the water. With all the negativity we were causing, the Grimm could not be far behind.

"Gah!"

"Hngh!"

We fought two battles; one for him to keep his footing against my weight and the other an attempt to free his weapon and bring it on me. He might have had other weapons, but my Strength was higher than a Swordmaster's, I had to assume. Not everyone boasted an A-Stat and most warriors focused on resilience instead. A Swordmaster sounded like something more Dex-based, which made sense since I'd gotten a bump in that Stat. If he let go with one hand, I'd stab his sword down into the deck, then drag mine up and disembowel him. He knew it.

"I will not die here." the Swordmaster hissed.

"Funny," I shot back. "Neither will I."

Something had to give. In the end, it was him. As skilled as he might be, he couldn't put up with my raw Strength, and Dexterity and Agility meant nothing once I'd grappled him. He fell to the side, letting go of his sword and accepting the savage wound I put into his side as he scrambled away. His long grey coat was slashed through and he tore it off and aside, out over the railing, revealing a tight black outfit underneath, a black tunic over black trousers tucked into his boots. His side was bleeding badly, one hand clamped over it.

—Forged Destiny [Book 8: Ch. 6]