And thus Cúchulainn fell to Wesley's blade. At least, that was the poetic version. The thing got fried, simple as that, though Emiri admitted it was an impressive show. As she sheathed her sword, she stretched a bit and let out a whistle. Nadeline let out a sigh of relief, wrinkling her nose as she crossed her arms. Now Harris was also in the race for the Espers; one more thing to deal with. Rather, one more person to handle, so to speak. Still, a win was a win, so she wasn't going to complain, really.

"[b][color=f6989d]Thanks for the finishing blow, captain.[/color][/b]" Emiri grinned at Wesley, clearly amused at his formal victory quote. "[b][color=f6989d]Although it's a slightly hollow victory. The Esper would have been yours if Harris hadn't beaten us to it.[/color][/b]"

"[b][color=fdc68a]We can leave now, right?[/color][/b]" Nadeline asked, trying not to gag. She was clearly sick of the sewers and craving a bath.