Luca lay flat on his back, staring up at the sky.
His face was caked with dust. His clothes were torn in at least three places.
His entire body ached from the impact of that kick, and he was fairly certain he had grass in places grass had no business being.
He processed the events of the last thirty seconds.
Then he let out a long, defeated sigh.
"Great." He muttered to no one in particular. "Just...great. Not only did I manage to make enemies of an entire centaur brigade, but I also got drop-kicked by their commander."
He let out a sarcastic, hollow laugh.
"Truly the most wonderful day yet."
Then he noticed something, like a change had had happy in his body.
He then looked at both of his sword-hands and slowly got to his feet.
Moving with the care of someone who had been through far too much today, he raised one blade to his mouth, bit down on the metal, and began pulling.
The sword resisted. It had been lodged in securely, designed not to come loose.
