Enemy and Ally

"Whew... whew..."

Gawain planted the Holy Sword into the ground, using it to support himself so he would not collapse outright.

He looked utterly wretched. His pale face was smeared with blood, and dense beads of cold sweat covered his forehead.

His armor was in tatters, riddled with sword wounds that continued to seep blood, soaking through the brocade garments wrapped around him. Not a single part of his body remained unscathed; he no longer bore any resemblance to the dazzling figure he had been before the battle.

Blood ran down his armor, pooling on the ground beneath him in mere moments.

Burning pain surged from every part of his body, draining what little strength he had left...