Despite the turn of circumstances for the worst, Serkan remained remarkably unshaken and composed. He kept his focus on the monsters, sword at the ready. The undead he had previously rammed with his shoulder was looking for another opening to attack, but this time, Serkan was going to take the offensive. Stepping forwards, Serkan swung the blade, channeling magic up through the weapon; those with sharp eyes may have noticed a faint ripple left in the wake of the blade while it was swung, but otherwise nothing else seemed out of the ordinary for the sword. The blade made a shrill, whistling screech when the vorpal edge parted through the air.

Seeing the incoming strike, the skeletal warrior shifted to the side, raising its shield in a falsely held belief that it would protect from the swing. A muffled, metallic thud rang through the courtyard, and the undead knight stepped back in surprise; its shield had split in half, a perfectly smooth, razor-thin divide marking where Serkan's magic-enhanced sword had cut through. The knight's arm was worse off, its bony arm had been split lengthwise from hand to elbow, the split and damaged fingers clutching languidly at what once was a whole shield.

Serkan very quickly followed up the slash with a quick strike with his sword at the creature's elbow, though this time without the aid of magic, saving it should he need it later. Even without the enchantment coursing through the weapon, the slash was more than enough of a blow to completely sever the creature's already damaged arm, which clattered to the ground in two halves. The creature roared loudly, attempting to lift its sword to retaliate, but missing an arm it was apparent the undead was having some difficulty keeping its balance and stance. As the monstrosity awkwardly stumbled in an attempt to swing, Serkan sidestepped to place himself behind the knight, thrusting the blade up and into the neck of the creature between its helmet and the collar of its armor.

With a final motion, Serkan pulled the blade sideways, and the undead soldier's helmet tumbled to the ground, its now headless body slumping over after. Serkan rolled the blade through the air, flicking it with his wrist to shake free some of the detritus sticking to the surface of the weapon. As more of the living dead began to approach, Serkan readied himself his eyes scanning from side to side. It was then that a wall of fire erupted in front of him, giving him a moment to step back and gather himself. The mage responsible for the firewall appeared very displeased for some reason or another with Dasmira, with Dasmira giving an unusually specific accusation in response.

"We will have time to settle this later, stop bickering," Serkan only raised his voice just enough to be heard over the crackle and roar of the burning ring of grass. Serkan flinched at an unbearably loud, metallic scraping noise, looking through the wall of fire as it started to die down. The creatures had started to back off, something utterly massive in comparison to the fetid walking corpses they had been fighting emerged, soemthing unlike any living thing Serkan had seen in his travels. Serkan didn't know what the roaring, cyclopian terror might have been; looking to it he wondered if the being was merely some large, dumb animal, or if the beast was a being of malevolence, who acted with intent and purpose.

The half-elf moved to stand beside Dasmira and Athinar, lowering his weapon to only hold it in a loose, casual grip while he observed, but then the cyclopian monster started to move, picking up speed very quickly, every large, heavy footfall bringing it that much closer to them. Serkan separated from Athinar and Dasmira to move to their left, watching to see if the hairy cyclops was going to follow him, but it had already looked to mark Dasmira as its target. He let out an annoyed grunt, cursing the fact that the monster had chosen to attack, of all people, the one among them who had moments ago claimed to be dead weight. Even so, they were in this together, and he wasn't about to stand by and do nothing.

At this point it was too late for Serkan to double back and return to offer support; the beast would get to Dasmira before he could get within striking range, but there was still one more trick Serkan could rely on. Serkan dug his heel into the ground, bracing himself and rolling the sword over his palm to flip the weapon into a reversed grip. He charged magic into the blade and took careful aim; a second later he slashed the blade horizontally. Once more the blade let out a melodious whistling as it cut through the air, throwing out a cutting wave from the tip. The sharp, cutting wave, visible as a thin, rippling distortion in the air, sailed through the air towards the one-eyed gargantuan.