"Aargh!" the guard screamed in pain when the feeling of a piece of metal was deeply buried into his flesh. The surface of the iron, its coldness, hardness, and sharpness, was telling him he was cut by that cold hard steel.
His right arm immediately loses the strength to keep the spear in his hand. Following that was the impression that his arm had gone cold and lifeless. The feeling that he was now a one-handed cripple clouded his thoughts.
"No..." he gritted his teeth hard to express his regret. But unfortunately, no medicine in this world can cure the feeling of guilt.
"Stay right there, soldier. You're not injured, so keep that thought back inside your head." Hespar smiled and lightly pulled the sword away from the guard's shoulder. To everyone's surprise, Hespar used the back of his blade in his attack, not the sharpened edge.
