As I landed on the traitor, he twisted, using one of the fence poles as a weapon. Its sharpened end slammed into me, piercing my armor, sinking deep into my chest. My scream was more of a roar as my body seized, shaking from the shock of my injury. Gesalac threw me back and I struck the ground hard. But I was already working the wood free, and once the stake was out, I threw it aside, hands covered in my own blood. I curled them into fists, my eyes locked with Gesalac’s. He had managed to get to his feet, hands clasped around the end of my blade, which protruded from his chest as he attempted,
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