Jerico twirled his mace in his hand, his shield still carefully tucked across his back.

“You don’t have the faith to fight me,” Krelln snarled.

“And you don’t have the skill to fight me. Go back to where you came. No one has to know you found me.”

The dark paladin spat onto his blade. The saliva sizzled in the flame.

“Confidence is nothing. Faith is everything.”

“Is that so? Let’s find out.” Jerico hooked his mace to his belt and stood unarmed. “Try to strike me down. I won’t draw my weapon. Your sword will falter.”

Krelln glanced about, suddenly nervous. He suspected a trick but didn’t know what.

“You lie.”

“Lying’s not my style.”

The dark paladin licked his lips. His hands shifted their grip on the sword hilt. Jerico watched it all, waiting. Waiting.

Krelln swung.

Jerico yanked with his left hand, freeing his shield. He took a step closer, thrusting his shield into the path of the blade. Right before the blow connected, the metal of Jerico’s shield burst with brilliant white light. Krelln cried out as his eyes burned. When the sword struck, he felt his arms jolt in pain. A loud crack echoed in the valley. It was as if he hit a stone wall. Jerico shoved aside the blade and approached, still unarmed. Krelln thrust, only to have it blocked. The contact jarred his arms and shoulders. He felt his heart skip and his lungs quiver. The black flames on his sword dwindled to a shadow of their former size.

“Your faith is untested,” Jerico said, lunging forward, his shield leading. Krelln swiped upwards, a desperate defense. The paladin met it with the bottom edge of his shield. A soft cry of pain escaped Krelln’s lips. Sparks showered the ground. “Untested, and built on anger and ignorance. You say you’ve killed three of my brethren; I’ve killed nine of yours, Krelln.”