The ways of the old (part 2)

'Fuck!'

Luan cursed right as the dull pain of falling down on his back squeezed all the air out of his lungs, turning his curse into a fleeting whisper that rode the escaping air. 

The young legionnaire's vision darkened, the pain and shock threatening to fully cut his consciousness. 

And the moment Luan managed to fight off the pain… 

He realized that it had more than just one source. 

His eyes moved down, scanning his iconic plate armor that only the cavalry of the elite, golden legion could wear. And against any reason… 

It was broken. 

In three points, his pristine plates were broken, opened up in three, tiny spots. Two of them marked his stomach while the last one cut straight through his armbrace. The blood trickling out of the gaps in the metal indicated that whatever struck him had reached his body. 

'I'm in a shock,' Luan quickly realized, gritting his teeth as he reached out to his belt and grabbed the soldier's crutch.