Chapter 60

Gilles, desperate as he realized that his leg trapped by the enemy's foot prevented him from escaping, felt frustration building up inside him. Determined to find a way out, he decided to risk a jump, even though his height was limited due to the trapped foot. With a maximum effort, he propelled himself upward, but the distance reached was not enough to free himself. Helplessness took hold of him.

However, unwilling to give up, Gilles channeled his frustration into a precise kick, directed with all the force he could muster, towards Lord Salisbury. The impact was strong enough to make the adversary writhe in pain, although the armor he wore managed to absorb most of the blow. Gilles, however, soon realized that his plan had not achieved the desired effect. Even after receiving a kick to the belly, Lord Salisbury continued to hold onto Gilles, gripping him firmly as if he were his prey.

With a defiant smile on his lips, Duke Salisbury proclaimed, "It won't be so easy to escape; I am notably resilient. You'll have to do more than that to stop me." The pain from the kick seemed to have no effect on him, and he wielded his sword with agility and cruelty, pointing it towards Gilles with a swift and relentless motion. His goal now was nothing less than to sever his opponent's head.

In a fraction of a second, Gilles had a flash of brilliance. Using his shield as an extension of his will, he managed to intercept the enemy's sword before it reached his vulnerable neck. The metallic sound of the impact resonated like a dissonant symphony, echoing in the air.

Moved by anger, Gilles shouted with fury, "Let go of me!" The idea of being helpless, unable to counterattack his mortal enemy with his sword, deeply enraged him. In a moment of cunning, he realized that neither he nor his adversary were wearing helmets. With calculated audacity, he decided to use his own head as a weapon.

In a bold and aggressive move, Gilles launched his head against Lord Salisbury's. A sharp, penetrating pain spread through his mind, as if his brain were being exposed to the world. The impact did not spare Duke Salisbury, who also felt the violent collision. The resulting sound was deafening, echoing like the clash of colossal titans.

Gilles's daring strategy caught Duke Salisbury off guard. He expected his opponent to use the shield to defend himself, but he hadn't foreseen the devastating use of his own head as a weapon. However, Lord Salisbury did not yield. Keeping Gilles's right arm firmly trapped under his left armpit, he tightened his grip even more, determined not to let go. Standing firm like a tree, his feet firmly planted on the ground, he showed unwavering determination.

Gilles clenched his teeth with intensity, while his cheeks paled and stiffened. He tilted his head slightly backward, revealing a determined look. Lord Salisbury, astute, anticipated what was coming, but before he could react, Gilles launched a relentless attack. With fierce determination, he lunged with his head, meeting his opponent's forehead in a brutal impact. The clash between their foreheads tore the skin, causing blood to gush abundantly, staining their armors and denoting the ferocity of the clash.

The contorted face of Salisbury reflected uncontrollable fury as he uttered words filled with anger, "You wretch! I wonder if you have wings! Because if you don't, you'll learn to fly on the ground!" Lord Salisbury, imposing and possessing immeasurable strength, took advantage of the leg that trapped Gilles and, using his opponent's trapped arm as a powerful lever, threw him upward with all his might. Gilles, launched like a human projectile, was propelled mercilessly towards the ground, attesting to the brutality of the clash.

In an act of urgency, Gilles wielded his shield as a last resort, strategically positioning it to cushion his fall. The impact against the ground was felt in every fiber of his being, but the shield offered some protection, reducing the injuries. However, his shoulder bore the brunt of the impact, and a searing pain surged through his body. It was no wonder, as the shoulder had absorbed the blow violently, leaving the rest of his body sore and bruised.

However, that was not the only blow suffered. Even before touching the ground, the force exerted by Salisbury in his throw resulted in the breaking of Gilles's arm, causing the bones to fragment and pain to invade him like a sharp blade.

Indifferent to Gilles's suffering, Duke Salisbury advanced with his sword, determined to take his opponent's life. However, Gilles proved agile like a feline, even under the weight of his armor, and began rolling on the ground, skillfully dodging the deadly blows. The enemy's blade impaled mercilessly into the ground as Gilles rolled out of its reach. However, his clumsy movement led him to collide with the legs of other soldiers engaged in the heat of battle. Fortunately, the soldier he collided with was English, causing a momentary disorder and giving the French soldier a chance to eliminate him.

Despite the excruciating pain of his broken arm, Gilles rose from the ground with determination. Remaining alert to Salisbury's relentless advance, who skillfully retrieved his sword, Gilles did not neglect the other enemy soldiers grappling with his French troops.

Salisbury wielded his sword with both hands and lunged, immediately launching a sideways attack. Gilles did not hesitate to defend himself, placing his own sword in opposition. The blades clashed with a metallic roar, and Gilles felt the impact reverberate through his body. Unbalanced, he staggered a few steps backward, as his defense was compromised by the limitation of a single arm. The lack of his full strength was evident, and perhaps that was why many soldiers around gave up, losing hope of victory. However, Gilles did not share that sentiment.

"I will defeat you and aid Jeanne on her path. If I die here, how can I help her?" These were the thoughts echoing in his mind, even in the heat of battle. Despite his internal reflection, Gilles kept his attention focused on Salisbury. The enemy lunged again with a sideways attack, this time employing more force in his arms. Gilles remained on the defensive, blocking his opponent's sword strikes, but he felt his hand trembling due to the shoulder pain. Still, he stood firm on his two legs, refusing to give ground.

"What a determined look you have. Unfortunately, that will be the last look you see." Salisbury observed Gilles's resolute gaze as he unleashed his attacks. He respected Gilles's determination, but it did not awaken any pity in his heart.

"We shall see!" exclaimed Gilles with unwavering confidence. His determined gaze revealed an inexhaustible will to survive. It was not the time to depart, at least not yet. His heart yearned to witness Jeanne d'Arc in all her glory, leading France with bravery and expelling the English oppressors.

"Indeed, we shall see," Salisbury replied with a malicious smile. His attacks intensified, filled with fierce determination. This time, Gilles could only defend against a single blow. The other strike mercilessly tore through his armor, cutting into his flesh and piercing his ribs. A foreboding sound echoed across the battlefield, a macabre symphony blending the clash of metal with the deep cut in flesh. Gilles's scarlet blood gushed from the wound inflicted by Salisbury. He endured the excruciating pain, his unwavering courage being his only defense.

In a merciless strike, Salisbury lifted his foot and crushed it against Gilles's foot, seizing the opportunity to use the warrior's shoulder as a point of leverage. A precise blow struck Gilles's chest, even protected by his armor. The searing pain invaded his being, causing him to fall heavily to the ground. Every movement was an unbearable torture, but death could not be an option. Fighting against his own agony, Gilles struggled to rise. However, the burning desire to survive confronted the harsh reality of physical weakness. Wanting to resist did not necessarily mean having the power to do so.

Gilles, exhausted and wounded, exerted all his strength to rise from the ground, but his trembling legs failed under the weight of the cruel fate looming over him. Despair took hold of his lifeless body as the realization set in that he couldn't even move. Immobilized, he found himself condemned to await the inevitable arrival of his death, an unrelenting sentence.

"It was a good fight. I quite enjoyed it, Sir Gilles. It is time to bid farewell," Salisbury said with a wicked smile on his lips. His eyes, devoid of any compassion, stared at Gilles, who lay sprawled on the ground, struggling to get up. With both hands firmly gripping the sword, the blade's tip pointed downward, Salisbury approached the fallen warrior, dangerously positioning the sword near Gilles's heart.

Moved by a final and desperate will to survive, Gilles attempted to rise again, but exhaustion and intense pain dominated him. His efforts were in vain, and frustration consumed him. Screams of despair echoed in his mind as he fought not to accept his premature fate. He refused to die in that moment. However, he knew those were merely impotent cries, resounding in the void, a man fighting against a cruel inevitability fueled by his own desires.

"Farewell," Salisbury bid, preparing to end Gilles's life. However, in a moment that defied all expectations, a sense of imminent danger coursed through Salisbury's body. Intuitively, he raised his sword to protect himself, holding it in front of his face. Gilles, bewildered by the turn of events, glimpsed a chance to escape certain death. It was his opportunity to fight for life when least expected. A swift arrow, propelled by the force of destiny, found its target with millimeter precision, striking exactly where Salisbury had positioned his defensive sword.

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