Page 197 of Savage Throne
The world blurred.
Logic, reason, even my own carefully constructed discipline dissolved under the audacity of that statement.
My vision tunneled, focusing solely on him, on the arrogance in his voice, the smugness etched into his face.
He had crossed a line.
I lost control.
With a roar, I charged.
Soaring Precious sang through the air, the blade slicing a deadly arc toward his throat.
But he was ready.
Of course, he was ready.
He sidestepped at the last second, enough time to let his blade dart out and slice my thigh.
Hot pain bit through my flesh.
The crowd gasped.
I stumbled but only for a moment.
“So predictable,” my father circled me like a wolf. “All that anger. All that bravado. It always made you sloppy.”
“You are a pathetic human being. I can’t even call you a man anymore.”
He lunged.
I deflected the blow and the clash of our swords rang through the arena like thunder.
Sparks flew.
It was on.
We traded strikes in a flurry of motion. He was fast. I was faster.
I just couldn’t get my blade on him.
Our blades collided again and again and a-fucking-gain. Each strike vibrated through my arms.
The crowd roared with cheers and some screams.
Adrenaline surged within me.
He swung for my neck, I ducked as the blade whistled past my ear.
Then, I countered with a swift upward slash, forcing him to leap back.
He grinned. “Is that all you’ve got, boy?”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I pressed forward forcing him to retreat as I unleashed a relentless barrage of strikes. The sound of our blades echoed through the arena, drowning out everything else.
He blocked my attacks but the effort showed. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his breaths came out faster.
