Damn! I should have sliced her neck earlier! The thought screamed in my head as I staggered upright, struggling to dislodge the dagger that now burned its way into my back.
Every movement was agony—a searing fire that fueled my rage. With a bellow that echoed my inner torment, I snarled,
"You! It is you who will die!"
I yanked my sword free and brought it down in a vicious arc aimed at her vulnerable neck. In that split second, Sir Ludwig's blade intercepted mine—a cold, unyielding barrier.
"You cannot, Your Grace. You will be at a disadvantage if you kill her," he said firmly, his tone laced with both duty and reluctant compassion.
He was right, of course; it was not strategic to finish her now, but I could not let her slip away without inflicting some measure of pain.
"I will not kill her," I growled through clenched teeth, "just enough so she understands everything." Yet Sir Ludwig held his ground, his sword steady between us—a silent rebuke of my reckless fury.
