Injured

The forest ground was a whirlwind of steel and blood.

Prince Killian moved through it with the grace of a predator, his silver blade a blur of deadly precision. Each swing was a symphony of death, a resounding clang of metal against metal, followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting the earth.

He was like a lone wolf, surrounded by a pack, but the pack was no match for his ferocity. His cold, sharp eyes scanned the scene, never straying from Princess Amelia, who stood frozen in the heart of the chaos. Her wide eyes reflected the terror of the unfolding carnage.

He knew she was afraid, but there was no time for comfort, no time for anything but survival. He thrust his sword forward, a sudden, brutal strike. The guard's eyes widened in shock as the steel pierced his chest, a crimson bloom blossoming on his tunic. A vicious backhand sent another guard sprawling, his head thudding against the unforgiving earth.