The Chains of the Wicked - Part 3

He did not even have the time to curse, for Oliver's sword was coming for him again, pinning his attention to him alone, having solved the extra problem that would do to get between them.

"Give up, boy! You've already lost!" Zilan hissed, speaking the Stormfront tongue in an effort to break Oliver's will. "You will fall here and now. For what reason do you resist?"

Oliver had no reply for him. He barley understood the words that had been said, even though they were spoken in his language. The only language Oliver now knew was fury, and the fury demanded that he keep fighting, to reclaim the head from Zilan that he had struck from Lombard – or at the very least, to hold him in place, and allow him to go no further.

"They have been dealt with, my Lord," Verdant said, holding a hand in salute to his bloodied chest, just above the long gash that Zilan had given him, tearing through the plate of his armour.