Sergei whistled as a blast of lightning rocketed past his ear, knocking the guards to the ground as it fried their flesh and stopped their hearts. He let out a low, cruel laugh, wishing he'd taken the time to outfit his own armies with something so hideous. Still, the trio of mages still stood. Sergei yanked out his war sword, lifting the stained, heavy blade above his head.

Spittle flew from his teeth as he dashed through. Three, wearing robes befitting mages; wizards needn't have heavy armor to throw off their arm movements or risk conducting magical energies and causing blowback. On the other hand, they provided zero protection from a blade or mace. One of the two lower ranked mages tossed out a fireball, which Sergei swatted with his sword, deflecting it to the side. He brought it down into the first, cleaving through the collarbone and lodging it in her ribcage.

"A woman?!" Sergei spat in shock. There was no time to think about such things, however. He let go of his sword and, as the first mage crumpled, launched a ferocious haymaker towards the other firemage's jaw, stunning him. This gave him the few seconds he needed to dislodge his sword, using his boot for leverage.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA~!" he laughed, thrusting it through Erin's gut. He spun around, maneuvering him between himself and the third mage, some ice wizard. Sergei's veins bulged as he lifted the mage into the air, screaming, and ran forth. The body served as a sufficient shield from a flurry of ice needles until the last few feet, when Sergei lifted him into the air, and threw the body off his sword, knocking Anton to the ground.

With the last pinned down by the body of his former comrade, Sergei had ample opportunity to deliver the coup de grace, a mighty chop that cleaved through the High Battlemage's skull.

Now covered in wizard blood and thoroughly satisfied that he'd killed the enemy, Sergei ran his fingers through his hair. He'd have to find a nice way to present the bodies later. For now, he turned back to the house, and pointed his sword at the platform Wledric still stood on.

"Your men are almost as weak as you are, and now they're dead! I've taken pity, so here are my terms: throw down your weapons and come down, and I'll grant you a quick death. But if I have to come up there, I'll splatter your pieces up and down this courtyard!"