"Well – that's over with now. We'll put an end to it all. I don't care who's brother you are. Jok wasn't even worthy of becoming legend. I met the youth. There was nothing to him but speed. Still, at least he knew his place. That's more than can be said for you," Earl Maddon said.
"Ten thousand men, Earl," Vol said, letting the blood run out of the corners of his mouth. "And this is how much you've struggled. Who would win if I had ten thousand, hm? You're nothing but your position."
The Earl hit Vol hard enough that he almost swung himself out of his saddle. Vol took the blow behind his shield again, though this time he matched it with his axe. It wasn't the enemy whose flame he sought to put together this time, it was his own. He could see the flames about his arm, and within his muscle. Tens of thousand, perhaps even millions of small ones. Then there were slightly larger ones that governed some of the smaller ones, repeating onwards and onwards like an army.
