[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/hSbxgyH.png[/img]
[sup][@Pyromania99][@Rune_Alchemist][@PaulHaynek][/sup][/center]
Maybe he should have snapped her neck after all.

Isidore entertained that thought for a moment, before brushing it aside. Demonic beast it may be, he had no intention of killing young animals unless absolutely necessary, no matter what problems they brought up. Even if those problems were of the long-limbed, incredibly ugly type. By the blessing of the Goddess, or just by good fortune, only one of the shambling creatures wielded a proper weapon, though, and that weapon would go to…

They could consider the split afterwards.

Octavia pulled at the chain, eager to attack, while Augusta was treading new ground again, that same strange energy she exuded before now shooting out from her palm in a burst of light. It shot out at a speed that the dark-haired youth could only barely follow with his eyes, before scattering over the sword-wielding monster’s body with a concussive force.

He breathed in.

Release the dog. It’ll draw attention. Close the distance. They’ll swing outwards. Block with chain, counter with swing. Disarm and deliver to Nick. Dodge offhand swing. Draw blade against its neck. Disengage with shove. It will bleed out. But he wouldn’t let it die so slowly.

He breathed out.

Visualize and execute.

The chain links didn’t even hit the ground when Isidore released Octavia, the puppy shooting forwards in her eagerness to pounce. Moving in step with the hellhound, Isidore charged for the sword-wielder as well, watching its movements slow to a fatal speed. Struck by Augusta’s bolt and beset with two different targets, it wasn’t able to commit to either one before Isidore was upon it. Rust scattered as the monster’s sword clanged ineffectually against links of chain. He sliced deep into its arm, hearing the satisfying ‘pop’ of a tendon being ruptured, before tearing the sword out of the monster’s hand. No muscles could sustain its grip now; it came loose easily.

Catching the dropped weapon, Isidore slid it back towards Nick and instinctively ducked down, his legs bending and his head craning to the side. Wind brushed overhead, the sign of the offhand claw-swing that he visualized. He stepped out to the monster’s side, pivoted on his front foot, and drew his arming sword against its neck. They were of flesh, and flesh parted easily when faced against sharpened steel. The blood that gushed out and the gurgled bubbling of disrupted breath told him what he needed. A left-handed shove followed, sending the creature face-first.

The stomp that crushed the skull followed soon after, even as he faced the creatures that remained. How many were left? How reliable were the pup and the boy?

Isidore assessed the situation and breathed in.