And finally, the vampire was dead, his head, still alive making ominous comments in the ground. Bobd and Bõbd looked at eachother, weapons still ready. When the beast drew his last breath, both visiblely loosened their stance, breathing heavily as they feel to their knees in the ground.

"Goddesses, vampires are so hard to kill." One of the two remarked, as they surveyed the situation. When the muffled sounds of a certain female half-giant came to their ears, both rolled their eyes, and without nodding, they addressed the Iron Rose knights.

"We'll take care of the bandages, sir Mage. We know how to do first aid. We, sons of sir Redmarsh, are grateful for your assistance." One of them said with a curtsy, without a hint of hostility unlike their captain had been towards the Iron Roses. His brother had already taken the initiative to actually gather around Maria, and touching her in the shoulder.

"Mariah, let dolly go. We have to heal you." The man said to the female knight, and as if by act of magic, the half-conscious giant conceding, letting Fanilly go placidly. Bobd nodded sagely, as he began to treat the half-naked and burnt woman. "Sorry about that, Iron Rose Captain. She's still fifteen, you know." He allowed himself to breach his tough attitude for a second. "We'll take care of the wounded here."

[hr]

Sult's sword movements quickly became erratic, as her frantic pants were more and more louder. Her words devolved into grunts, before her flames finally gave out leaving her naked blade pitifully clanging against the few skeletons that remained. She gritted her teeth. So this was her limit, was she? She had been so indulgent for so much time, it was bound to bit her in the back. In front of people that needed her the most. In front of her sibling who had despised her the most.

She was on the verge of tears, but she stood once more, trying to power through the remaining forces, in an attempt to reach the flask and the necromancer. "Damnit. Damnit. So vexing." She cursed.

Nero on the other hand, was smiling. The nem toss had been a success, and now Sult was making a fool of herself. And so did Marianne, deadlocked in the fight with the lightning mage.

But was it alright? He could help them more. He could put all his might to overturn the situation. But they didn't deserve it. Some of them had squandered their talents. Some of them had pointed blades at his face. And yet, looking at the siblings, something churned within Nero. He felt disgusted. It was like the sibling antics he used to have a long time ago.

"Disgusting."

He added, in complete dissonance, as he turned his attention on the mage, as he seemed to flash his powers at Marianne, who had seemed to switch her attention to the necromancer. His body shot like a viper, as his sword hilt sought to hit the Mage square in the underside of the chest. Without breath there was no concentration. Without concentration there were no spells. A window of oportunity that Nero sought to exploit with a following grab.

"You can attack and defend. But can you endure?" Nero added, as he kept pressing up close to his opponent, readying his sword for a power attack. Not only physical, as he was circulating his own mana. The armor seemed to [i]revolt[/i] and shift somewhat, as the tip of the sword flickered.

In the same flames that Sult had used before.

"FIRE OF REON! HA!" He ominously chanted as he began a mad flurry of blows, more physical than magical in that regards against the mage.