"…Very well," Blackthorn said, looking as if she had wanted to say more, but holding her tongue.
The charge was made to feel short, with their mounts pushed to their absolute limits. By the time Oliver arrived in front of a galloping Zilan, Walter's sides were heaving from the exertion. Unlike Zilan's horse, Walter hadn't been given much chance to rest beforehand.
"URAHHHHHHHHHH!" Zilan said. He'd changed his sword for a glaive. He showed no signs of stopping. He rushed at them with a momentum in no way inferior to the monstrous chariots that he was so fond of. He would not even give them the respect of a duel – his only intention was to rush straight through.
