Ollie barely registered the conversation between Ashlynn and the captain. His world had narrowed to the armored figure before him and the long, bright blade that kept finding the space between his weapons with a precision that Heila's poison couldn't fully blunt.
Franc thrust again. Ollie caught the blade on Frost Fang's translucent edge, the horn-carved hilt absorbing the impact with a grinding shriek of metal on enchanted horn that sent vibrations up his arm and into his teeth. The deflection turned the longsword aside, but Franc recovered faster than the poison should have allowed, pivoting his hips and bringing the blade back in a tight arc aimed at Ollie's neck.
Ollie ducked. The sword passed over his head close enough to shear a few strands of flame-red hair from his scalp, and before he could close the distance, Franc reset his stance and thrust again, the point seeking the hollow of Ollie's throat above the mail's collar.
