"Seven of us and only one of you," Arathorne growled as he advanced ever steadily closer to the Slayer prince, but there was this glint in his eye that made Arathorne think about the prince's words. There was something in his voice that told the knight he wasn't making empty threats - Such arrogance, such<span style="font-style: italic">confidence-</span><br/><br/>Arathorne's peripheral vision was constricted wearing his heavy helmet, but even then, at the precise moment where the Slayer scout had fired his crossbow bolt, he saw it coming straight for his head from the corner of his eye, and he could hear the bolt sing through the air as it flew true. If he would not act, the bolt would penetrate even the thick plate of his helmet and brain him square between the eyes.<br/><br/>But in the next second, Arathorne's god-given reflexes, a gift of the Lady, kicked into action. The world around him went into slow motion, and his shield arm inched every passing moment closer to his head, and the Slayer prince's smile getting wider every second. Then, suddenly, real time came into place again, and Arathorne, at the very last second, knocked the crossbow bolt away with the rim of his kite shield.<br/><br/>The impact between Arathorne's shield and the crossbow bolt jarred his arm slightly, but Arathorne did not pause in his movement and ducked to make himself a less presentable target, settling into a crouching run and biting a curse back. His knights mirrored his actions and raised their shields towards the windows to defend themselves. "Protect the politicians, I'll catch up with you later," he roared as he closed the distance and lunged with his longsword, its tip poised to pierce the prince's heart.