Strike, parry, strike, backhand, and again! Over and over he whirled and danced, - the thrill of battle plaguing his senses. His eyes, sharp as a cat’s, saw everything; he heard everything, from the beating of his erratic heart and the clash of his sword on theirs, to the haggard breath of a thousand men in fierce battle. The smell of sweat and blood pierced his nose and he tasted it too, as it hung in the air. His arms ached in pleasure as they hammered away.
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