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So that was how it worked.

No doubt continuous enough dismembering would eventually wear out his ability to heal, but it would be a long, lengthy, and bloody process. And as [i]satisfying[/i] as it might be the Knights would grow exhausted long before they succeeded. Fire would help, but alas none among them possessed that more Reonite magic. But Nicomede missed nothing, and he watched the trails of blood rejoin the vampire's lost limbs. It was his greatest strength, more than the force or speed of his arm. Swiftness could be accomplished by mortal men as well as strength, but a mortal man will die if he bleeds. A mortal man's arm will not return to its place, nor his head to his shoulders. That was the clearest divide between the creature before them and themselves.

So it would be taken away.

But he had not been idle in that moment and as the vampire had leapt back he had pressed on, eager to keep the monster from creating a gap. The bloodied liquid followed the lead of his off weapon this time, seeking to end the ranged threat the same way he had stopped the Nem assassin.

[color=aa0404][i]"Tagliare."[/i][/color] The water shot forth to sever the crossbow's line and Nicomede followed it, staying in close and low while his [i]spada[/i] swept again at the vampire's leg. [color=aa0404]"Sirs FLeuri, Jarde! Sever its limbs!"[/color]

There was no time to explain, and no way to do so without giving up the game. But he knew how to put down the creature, and put him down hard. Against someone else it might have a been a certain moral conundrum; Nicomede was not squeamish, but using a man's own vital fluids against him simply seemed wrong. It felt near to a very serious border, a line that should not be crossed. Not even against the wicked. It wasn't even something he was certain he [i]could[/i] do against a living being, and certainly not before it had been separated from its owner. 

But this was not a truly living thing, not anymore, and he would feel no qualms for what it might require to stop it.

Water is the most abundant resource in all the world, and found in most liquids. A fact the disgraced noble had amply demonstrated when he weaponized a glass of wine earlier in the evening, and one he continued to demonstrate with the bloodied water that presently sought to destroy another crossbow. Without a counteracting magic the work of one part would affect the whole, and dueling magics would come down to the practitioners. The monster might be stronger, but he wasn't smarter. 

And blood was more than half water.

At the first drop of blood from his blade or any of his comrades he would utter the word, the growl, that would prevent the monster's blood from rejoining until he had conquered Nicomede's own will, the will of a human being;

[color=aa0404][i][b]"Rottura."[/b][/i][/color]

If it had the will for it at all.