"Hit him! Hit him harder!"
"Alch'kta!"
"Make him run!"
"Nuwa kûŋe!"
"Tear him down!"
The sounds of Carwyn's men shouting blended with the cries of the other demon-knights as both sides cheered for their champion.
The constant blows raining down on Barsali's armor filled the air with the sounds of metal clanging on metal, but without the ability to spin the ball before he struck or the added momentum of a horse's charge, the weapon was too light to inflict serious damage through the demon's layers of armor.
For all that, even though it looked like he had an advantage at the moment, Carwyn felt like he'd become a prisoner of his own strategy. Sweat rolled down his brow as he realized that he had no method to retreat, and the tactics he would have used against a human fighter were all but worthless against the serpentine demon.
