His eyes brightened momentarily as he saw the incoming deflection of his sword. It was good to be fighting a competent foe once again. There wasn’t time to think, nor be worried by his blade glancing off tough armour. He was still within striking range, and so long as that held true his onslaught would be unceasing. The turning of his blade had inconvenienced him, but he was a strong man, trained with the sword. He did not falter, and his grip remained steady as he carried out the only natural transition considering his situation. 

Sigurd manipulated his blade back a short distance by lifting his hand and then brought it down into a vicious cut. His left foot moved away from his foe as his right took the lead, turning his body into the move and further confounding his opponent’s attempts to utilize her spear. He had not outright stopped her attack, just slowed it as such that his own sword would menace her first. His target was of course her unarmoured right forearm, encumbered by the lengthy weapon and exposed as she manipulated the lance its options for evasion were limited. His strike was intended to slip over the pauldron and down to its intended target if she attempted to use it in her defence by cutting at an angle, aided by his swords position after the shield parry.

Sigurd was taking advantage of the gap of around three feet between them, perfect range for his longsword but both too far and too close for his opponent’s weapons. Naturally, to launch such an assault Sigurd moved his shield back, but on launching the strike it followed forward with every intent of furthering the onslaught.