Some time ago, deep into the frigid regions of Solania.
"To the left!" the Knight King's voice cut like a war drum across the frozen expanse, and Ludwig obeyed without thought. His whole body twisted, muscles snapping tight as he dragged Durandal across his chest, meeting the Wrathful Death's descending mace. Steel on steel screamed, a shriek that rattled his hollow bones and sent sparks bursting into the snow like dying stars. The sheer force of it gouged a crater beneath his boots, ice splintering in rings outward.
His breathless snarl broke out. He had no lungs to fill, yet he felt the phantom pressure of strain pressing in his ribs.
"Incoming fist!" the Knight King warned again.
