[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color]
[@VitaVitaAR][@PigeonOfAstora][@ERode][@Raineh Daze]

As the gust of wind from the upturned blade of Demonbreaker touched his cheeks, Gerard in turn loosed a breath, the ragged exhale his one allowed moment of awe. He'd halted his charge for a moment to lift the shield high and stand firm, instinctively snapping to on orders for a foothold— and with that breath, surged forth again. The time Serenity had bought wouldn't last long... even with the titan before him a pale shadow of his life.

Of [i]course[/i] he knew of Erich Cazt. [i]Every[/i] boy, from the farmstead to the highest houses of Thaln, had been raised towards righteousness and courage in hearing the tale of the Hero, Aimlenn's savior. His stalwart defense of the capital, ages past... before him stood a Legend of his childhood. The Demonbreaker. A beacon of the strength a brave man could reach— equal to the Saint Elionne, founder of the Roses. Equal to Cyrus, the mighty Hammer, whose relics still shone within Candaeln's halls. Equal to Agrahn Sahlbard, whose tale of rising beyond common soldiery through battle-raging strength beyond measure had been the last glimmer of hope through hell countless times— proof of the Dream.

Erich Cazt stood among any of them.

Yet here he was now, jerked around upon invisible threads by some puppeteering freak in the tomb of his family, yet more salt in the open wound of the traitor's dishonorable acts. To disturb the rest of the fallen was already unforgivable. For that, he had resolved, twice over, to see this necromancer bloodied and broken, left to whatever judgement the crown would have left to serve in the wake of Reon's mighty wrath.

To disturb the rest of this hero, so foundational to all who dared against insurmountable odds, and force his body to be the towering enemy of the city he had so defended... Oh,[color=goldenrod][i] man.[/i] You've done it now.[/color]

Eyes like the oncoming sun, they flicked up to find that the Demonbreaker had earned its name undeniably in the way it had shorn through solid stone— but because of the angle, or perhaps because of Erich's soulless body being a mere shadow of his former might, it had also [i]caught[/i] within it. Weapon out of commission. shield on the far side. Against a foe of this caliber, whose swings could through wind-force alone send a stalwart dame like Serenity flying, there would never come a better opportunity.

He dove into the space opened upon the reanimated Knight's side, twisted hips, trunk, and torso, and [i]threw[/i] his weight behind the head of the morningstar. Armoring of this quality probably wouldn't even come close to being smashed apart in the vein of the undead that had come prior, and with only bones beneath, it was hard to say how much damage the raw force would do internally. 

Could it break bones? Maybe.

Would it get the undead's attention squarely upon him, opening up the Captain, Serenity, and Lein for possible angles past, either to attack the caster or help bring down the behemoth itself?

That felt far, far more likely.

In his off hand, he gripped the shield tight, knowing it'd be needed soon if he wanted to last long enough to accomplish anything.

But if even one of his fellows managed to hamstring this nightmare scenario while he threw himself into the fire... Then that'd be worth the risk.

Anything to give the Hero rest once more.

Anything that got them closer to this fiend’s [i][color=goldenrod]head.[/color][/i]