The Gates of the Heavens - Part 2

He grunted, turning the blade aside. He couldn't waste too much time with Jericho, for Amion was there, on the other side, sending down towards him the same sort of crushing attack, in the same sort of style, as if they'd practised the same sort of martial art.

The blow came from above. Whether that was intentional or not it was hard to tell – but that was the exact position that Oliver was finding hardest, when he had to catch the blade entirely.

His sword met it just above his head. It stopped the half-moon blade for a second, before it began to wilt, and his left hand gave under the pressure of the two-handed attack.

He stepped backwards, before the blade could reach his shoulder. It was only to the barest degree, but he'd managed to at least avoid any injury – for now. That fact rang like a victory to Oliver. His forehead was drenched in sweat. It was taking every effort that he had merely to stand his ground. Thoughts of a counterattack were foreign.