"Clang..."
The echoing sound of clattering bones and searing agony roused the Black Knight from his stupor.
Gritting his teeth tightly, he allowed the blood to continue trickling from the corners of his mouth, each drop a testament to his pain and defiance.
In that moment, his heart was a tumultuous sea of emotions, shock, fear, but predominantly, a surging tide of rage.
As a seasoned second-level elite, how had he been brought to his knees by a mere blade wielded by a 'newcomer', a novice freshly minted from his initiation?
How could he, the Black Knight, fail to parry a single sword strike?
Even wounded, even dismissively holding his sword with one hand, the fact remained: he had not blocked the strike.
Any excuse seemed paltry against the starkness of reality.
Yet, with each passing second, his anger deepened, fueling a burning desire for vengeance.
Such disgrace, such humiliation, only blood could cleanse it!