A shield is never just a wall—it is a hammer with a wider face. The instant your attack bounces off my guard, heavy iron slams forward, shattering your posture, and leaving you entirely at my mercy.

Haste is a fatal flaw I leave to dead men. I wait in the quiet behind my guard while you exhaust your fury against unyielding iron. When your muscles burn and your breath finally falters, my blade is waiting.

Momentum is an illusion I choose to shatter. Every desperate swing crashes into my shield and dies there. I don't just stop your advance—I break the spirit of anyone foolish enough to strike the mountain.

Aggression is a weapon I will happily borrow. Steel meets steel not in a desperate block, but a pivot. I catch your momentum at its peak and guide your killing blow back into your own throat.