Hugh roared again, after seeing his sword not making it's mark. He swung again and again at the bandit, his strokes getting stronger with every swing. Sweat poured down his face and body, cooling him as he was on the edge of overheating. He continued to swing at the bandit. You would think he might reserve himself, but he could keep fighting like this for days. He had trained to fight harder and fought harder. That kind of power was required for someone who had been on both sides of a siege and been in battles that lasted for several days. There was a reason why his people had once been known far and wide for being the fiercest fighters, though the name of his people was forgotten, the memories of being on the receiving side of their horrifying warfare still remained.

Hugh roared again and charged forward at the highwayman, swinging his shield at the man's face.