What he found before him was a vulnerable flank, in the midst of a charge. They had hardly turned to him, for why would they? They had one target alone, and they did not expect to be met so perfectly by the force of Oliver Patrick – at least not yet.
His eyes glowed a solid purple from the perfection of it all. His heart beat, feeling the incredible timing that Claudia so loved. That weight of responsibility, when there was someone else on the line that he had to defend – when there was another force relying on him.
His sword came with more than the strength of the Fourth Boundary. It came with the force of Claudia herself. Ten men deep they'd had their ranks, and Oliver alone shattered through five of them. Then he drove in deeper, keeping the same broadness of assault, until he was another five men deep, having displaced over twenty soldiers by himself.
