Adam clutched his left side, feeling the heel's mark embedded in his skin, but neither the searing agony nor the blood in his mouth could distract him from the female golem.
She stood where she had knocked him off from, a blade of abyssal darkness and one of pure light clenched in her armored fists. If he had believed the broadsword they had emerged from to be at least a legendary artifact, these twin blades made his vision swim in dread.
Her face was an immortalised mask of beauty that bore the features of someone whose mere smile made men relax and children giggle. Her silvery torso, a skin-tight cuirass that blended with her engineered frame and curves, was nothing like the colossal golem's. Sparse arabesques replaced painted artistry to create a sober design that rivalled the elegance of elven craftsmanship.
