Brienne stared in shock at the silver-haired young man before her, who had blocked her full-force strike with a sword held in one hand.
She knew her own strength better than anyone.
She had once cleaved an opponent's oak shield in a single blow in the tourney grounds. Even if a full-grown bull stood before her, she was confident she could cut it in two.
Yet this young man, who hardly looked burly, had effortlessly caught her full-force strike with one hand. His arm had not even trembled.
But her instincts as a warrior gave her no time to dwell on it.
She drew her sword back and kicked at Aegon, hoping to drive him back and create enough distance to gather her strength for another attack.
Aegon merely turned slightly aside and dodged it. Brienne's kick struck empty air, leaving her off balance. She hastily swept her sword across, trying to force him back and buy herself time to recover her stance. But the hurried strike lacked strength, and its angle was hardly threatening. Aegon seized the opening, twisted his sword, and slammed its pommel into her wrist.
Pain and numbness spread from her wrist through her entire arm. Brienne's longsword fell from her grasp. Aegon reached out with his left hand and caught it neatly. Now he held a sword in each hand.
Brienne still refused to give up.
With her longsword gone, she lunged in to grapple with him, throwing a punch at Aegon's face.
But Aegon kicked first, driving his foot straight into her stomach and sending her staggering backward.
Then he spun around, brought the swords in his hands together, and slashed down hard.
He held nothing back in that strike.
Both swords crashed into the brass-colored armor over Brienne's chest with a dull clang