Gareth leaned against the cathedral's cool stone wall, his chest heaving as he wrestled with his armour. His torso was bare, save for the fresh bandages that wrapped tightly around his ribs and sides. He grimaced slightly as he manoeuvred the metal plates, his movements slow and deliberate, careful not to aggravate the wounds beneath.
The stillness of the evening was a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. The faint sounds of villagers cleaning up the debris drifted through the cathedral, but Gareth paid little attention. He focused on preparing himself, a habit ingrained in him as a knight — even when battered, he wanted to be ready for anything.
As he buckled the final strap across his shoulder, Gareth's attention shifted to the sound of footsteps approaching. At first, he thought it was one of the villagers or a healer, but when he glanced up, his eyes widened.
