"Why… the fuck… isn't he falling?" The man gasped. He tried to trip Vol once, then twice, then three times, and each time it had felt as if he was trying to dislodge a tree. It was as if Vol had such an overwhelmingly excellent balance that any attempts at disorienting him were immediately deflected – quite the opposite. He'd fought practically on one leg since the Jungters had managed to charge him. What stopped him from falling was sheer brute force alone, and the instant his second leg managed to get a good grip into the ground, the situation was changed in an instant.
Vol could feel the Jungter leader watching him. The man had not charged in himself yet. He, and the other four horsemen, waited behind their men, allowing arrows to fly over their heads. They were the final killing blow of final killing blows. 'If you're going to watch, I'll give you something good to look at, you bastard,' Vol thought to himself.
