The grotesque fluid lurched forward, rusty blades flashing as it brought a foul-smelling tendril firmly downwards. The blades buried in the ground where Fanilly once stood.

What... was this? This hideous blob, smelling like rotten, fermenting meat, surging forward to try and attack her. She knew of creatures that had bodies made of slime, but this thing was no natural living being.

It lurched forward again, swinging tendrils of foul-smelling fluid and snapped and rusty metal it tried to catch her again. She couldn't reach the necromancer like this! Vosahnn's sister was so close, but she was still in the grip of that man...

In spite of his boasting he could kill her at any time, however, it was clear that the man was well aware of the repercussions of doing so. After all, if he didn't care he would have done it by now.

And yet he was still holding onto her, masked face watching carefully as Fanilly evaded the thrashing tentacles of slime. He knew that, if he were to kill her, his leverage would be gone.

"Do you know what this is?" she heard him comment, as she leaped away from another lashing liquid tendril, "I'll tell you."

He cocked his head.

"It's an undead. A liquified corpse. The dead can be frail at times, but... well..." he chuckled, "It's far harder to combat something like this, isn't it?"

That...

That sort of defacement of the dead... not only enslaving them, but converting their bodies into something like this...

Anger rose in Fanilly's heart. This couldn't be permitted. She couldn't let this continue! But how!? There didn't appear to be any vulnerabilities to the liquid undead...

"Tch...!"

Almost immediately as the axe began to swing down, the lightning mage drew back again. Moments later it became obvious why she had so quickly given up ground: The barrier she had put in place cracked, flashed, and then seemed to explode with enough force to knock a grown man off his feet, shattering like glass and scattering shards through the air that faded into nothingness.

"... Vorsik's axe, hm?" she commented, lightning crackling around her fingertips as she took another step back, "I hope his death was something he could be proud of, if nothing else."

She sighed.

"Damn that bastard," she said under her breath, eyes drifting to the necromancer for a moment before she raised one arm again, electricity surging from her shoulder to her palm as another circle of magical energy spread out ahead of her.

"Fine then. Let's do this," the mage grinned, but it seemed somehow hollow, "Let's put it to the test. The Lightning Magic of Elva Fraus against the Iron Rose Knights."

[hr]

"My, such harsh spices... I suppose it makes sense, their lands are so cold, after all," commented the Princess as she considered Gillian's words. "We may sometimes see snow here, but I understand the lands of the Ingvarr see it almost all year round. It must be quite an experience for them, coming down to the south..."

Eliabelle considered this for a moment.

"It must be as surprising for them as it would be for us, if we were to go that far North," she concluded, nodding slightly to herself as she did.

But then...

"... Reon's... button...?"

[@HereComesTheSnow][@Asuras][@jdh97][@Animal][@TheFake][@Crimson Paladin][@PaulHaynek][@FlappyTheSpybot][@Raineh Daze][@ghastlyinc][@Krayzikk][@Heartfillia]