Valence grimly eyed the desperate angry soul that survived his attack. She was tough, but that might be attributed to the amulet that kept flaring up. No, she was courageous- she knew who she was searching for, and came anyways. Not as if he blamed her. He'd probably do the same thing, if someone murdered his mother. 

	He waited for her, letting her come at him. He wouldn't strike her while she was down, not if he wasn't close enough to make sure it all ended. But she was moving slower now, easier to predict, and she is fueled by anger, not steely determination. Her attacks are a little too wild, and she's a little too impulsive. She should've come at him slowly, carefully. Charging is never a good idea.

	It seems putting down his shield gave him an advantage, in more ways than one. 

	As she charged forward, he let her reach maybe a foot outside her sword's tip, before he fired off another bolt of lightning- a much less powerful one, one that wouldn't kill. She was practically point blank and there is no way to dodge lightning. Her wards are down and she's charged straight into his hand. The bolt arced through her sword and into her body, likely fusing her hand to the sword and locking her muscles. 

	He spun, swiping aside the sword with his left mithril-coated wrist, turning fully about and using the momentum to drive the hilt of his sword into her face. To add to it, he simultaneously slipped his left foot under her right, and tugged forward. With her head being snapped back and her leg being pushed forward, she dropped to the ground, [i]hard[/i].

	He stared down at her for a moment, knowing that she's incapacitated from the surge of electricity, bleeding from the punch to the nose, and hurting from dropping on her back. Quickly kneeling down next to her, he set his sword down by her fizzy blond hair. Cupping his right hand over her cheek, he drew a knife with his left. He stared down, compassionate, wide-eyed, and sorrowful, whispering in a foreign language- a chant, a death rite, of sorts.

	"Princess Elise of the Vale, you fought well. May you see your loved ones again, and rest in peace. You fought admirably; your mother would be proud."

	He stroked her cheek, knowing that her father will never do it again. In his own way, he mourned the loss of Elise, the Princess of the Vale. He admired and respected her- she was out of her league and kept going anyways, spurred on by something he had long lost the right to. And he truly, truly cared about this woman, who gave her life to bringing a monster to justice.

	"If you have anything you want to say, any message at all, I will deliver it. I swear it, Princess. But you do not have time anymore, so I suggest you hurry with it."

	Delphyne growled from above; without breaking his gaze on the fair maiden, he shushed her. The Wyvern responded by opening her wings and sort of gently dropping to the ground before the fallen princess and her to-be killer. From behind Valence's head came Delphyne's great scaly head, peering curiously at the creature who wished her bonded harm.