[center][h3][color=lightblue]Nicholas[/color][/h3]
[b][HP: 500 - SP: 5/6][/b]

[i]Unknown Location[/i][/center]
[hr]

The blow connected. Nicholas watched as his blade tore through unnatural flesh, cut its way through the alleys between bones, went where vital organs would be... or at least should have been. Too late he realized that he had let himself get fooled by the appearance, by two arms, two legs, a head, clothes and armor. He had yelled about purgatory and forgot right after that the Red Ones had spoken of a test. Oh, he had noticed that they didn't attack. He noticed that they were waiting for them to make the first move, whichever it was, but unlike the other priestess, this knowledge hadn't stilled his hand. Perhaps Nicholas had acted prematurely and let emotions cloud his judgement, it was a possibility, but in his mind, he had no doubt that there was no alternative to the path he had chosen - this 'ordeal' was of the Triumvirate's design and had they truly wanted to resolve something through words, they would have stayed. 

Instead, they sent an armed band of humanoids that seemed mute, blind and deaf at once. They couldn't have possibly made it any clearer that this trial was one of force and wit but not of words.
His opponent was incapable of more than moans and shrieks but the blow that hit Nicholas' shield said more than a thousand words. His arm ached from the strength behind it, his shield still ringing almost a second later, the ripples of vibration traveling up the mercenary's arm. No, he couldn't possibly match his enemy's physical prowess and from two steps away - even with his heels dug into the dirt, he was pushed back that far - he observed as the "bandit's" cleft healed.
He didn't have the luxury of turning to watch the God Eater's attempt at impalement or how it failed even more miserably than his own attempt, or how the red-head's attack fared, but he didn't need to, his ears told him everything he had to know.

All this lead to a simple conclusion: Their foes had to be treated the same as any creatures of the wild, despite their disguise. None of them were invulnerable, no matter how tall they loomed or how impenetrable their carapace. And it seemed that somebody else had found the weakspot as Nicholas watched a stray head roll towards greener pastures just behind his opponent.
It wasn't necessarily that obvious, not when one had fought monstrosities with multiple heads or such without one altogether. Sometimes, the heart was the only vulnerability, so he couldn't fault his giant companion for trying. But regardless of who cut off the first of them, they certainly set an example he intended to follow.

With unbroken spirit, he stepped back into the fight at the same time as the priestess at his side, so close to her that he could have touched her, and his right hand swung his sword with deadly experience and murderous intent towards the neck of the creature before him, careful not to overcommit as much as he did with his first strike. His left arm, however, held the shield with the memories of fighting as a group, not just trying to protect himself but his sister in battle as well, if he could. He would rather abandon his assault and ward her and himself against harm than sustain a wound or watch somebody else suffer an avoidable one.