"I'll personally remind you where your place is."
The colossal distance was rendered meaningless. No sound echoed, no trail of movement or sign crossed the terrain. Before the words had fully fallen, Atticus was already upon the king.
His blade drove forward in an absolute thrust.
The king's intense gaze narrowed. Such speed…
Yet he released a derisive inward scoff. He waved a hand. The air flickered before him, and his shield, Durandal, materialized.
Blade met shield in a brilliant flash of light. Then Atticus' blade tore through it like a hot knife through tofu. The king's eyes flew wide, shock flashing clearly across his face.
His aspect granted weight to meaning. The more precious something was to him, the stronger it became. Durandal had remained by his side for centuries… they were inseparable… yet a mere blade had carved through it?
The king's will flared. He shot to the side like lightning as the blade tore past him in roaring gales that ripped through the wasteland.
