"..."
The onlookers didn't dare criticize Rufus directly, but they could freely lament the situation and point fingers.
This only fueled Rufus's rage, making him more agitated. The taste of blood at the corner of his mouth made him feel like a clown. He had lost face before his subjects.
He dug his spurs hard into his horse's belly, trying to pick up speed.
Eric, however, slowed his pace. He yanked hard on his reins, wheeled his horse around, and charged toward Rufus, War Axe in hand.
Seeing Eric's maneuver, Rufus's anger flared anew. He spurred his horse on, his grip on his War Axe tightening.
Just as the two riders were about to meet, Rufus struck first, aiming a blow at Eric's neck.
But then a tremendous force met his blow, and before he could even react, the War Axe was sent flying from his grasp.
