The hideous blob's tendrils extended from its foul mass, glistening in the torchlight, blades and shards of bone embedded in it serving as its weapons. But it was simple, considerably incapable of understanding how to prioritize targets without direct manipulation by its creator. As such, the necromancer distracted, it immediately targeted the one closest to it.

That being Jarde, whose actions had caused it to twist its tentacles about and raise them up, preparing to swing them down all at once upon the knight.

"Sir Jarde, thank you!"

With that, Fanilly sprinted forward, leaping over some of the few thrashing tentacles that lingered to attempt to trip up anyone who had the same idea she had. With the liquid undead distracted, the Necromancer was wide open! They had to stop him, before he could shatter another of the vials and unleash another one of the horrible abominations against the Goddesses!

With Tyaethe's actions freeing the Nem, there was no reason to hesitate!

"Guh!" the masked Necromancer stepped back, stumbling slightly before catching himself. He'd lost the hostage...!? How... that damned vampire knight!

Tili's sister's eyes were wide, her shock at having. Her unscarred throat was bruised from how tightly it had been gripped, and it seemed as if that was not the only abuse she had suffered at the hands of the masked figure. A few fresh cuts on her hands and arms, and bruises marring her pale skin across any exposed part of her body, made that much clear. She was saying something, but it was difficult to tell what with her mouth gagged.

Tili herself stared at the crossbow she had been given for a moment.

A small smile crossed her lips, as she took one of the bolts and slipped it into place.

She took careful aim.

The moment she was upon the Necromancer, Fanilly raised her sword up in both hands and swung it down!

But it never reached him. A barrier had sprang up, a sickly green shield of magical energy, sparks flying as she attempted to penetrate it. The very same barrier prevented Fleuri's attack from reaching him, as well. It had to have been established in the few moments after he lost the hostage, and it it was strong enough to hold up to an assault like that?! Not only that, but it seemed to be made of not one, but many magical shields, arrayed in front of him...

"Fine. If that's how this shall be, then everyone in this room save myself shall perish this night!"

His free hand flew to his belt, gripping the glass vials. No! Fanilly attempted to force her way through the barrier, to find the smallest gap. They couldn't let him release another of those things...!

Elva Fraus stepped back again, a barrier flashing into existence at the precise moment that Sir Gerard pressed his assault. And with such hasty preparation, the magical energy only held enough for her to barely escape the edge of the sword.

But she was no longer looking at her opponent.

Her eyes were on the Necromancer, as he raised those glass vials...

A bolt of electricity exploded from her hand.

The necromancer had managed to construct a barrier nearly impervious to physical attack. He was preparing to unleash virtually unkillable undead. In spite of being surrounded, he was nothing but confident.

He had never suspected that Elva, an ally currently fighting her own battle, would take precious moments that could be be spent defending herself to burn a hole right through his defenses.

With a flash of light, the bolt of lightning tore cleanly through the upper portion of his barrier, shattering one of the interlocking shields near his head.

"What?!"

Had he not been distracted by the Roses, he could likely have managed to ward off the attack and deploy his undead anyway. But on the back foot, he had been unable to do so. And now his head was exposed.

"... You think that will change anything?!" he snarled, even as Fanilly prepared to thrust the tip of her blade directly into the gap that the lightning had created, "There's no way you can-"

He stopped dead. His arms dropped, hanging limply, the vials clattering to the floor without enough force to shatter.

Embedded in the right eyehole of his mask was the bolt from a crossbow.

Tili lowered her arms as the lifeless body fell.

The liquid undead that had already been released suddenly collapsed into a foul but harmless puddle, though Jarde would still be advised to move as quickly as possible to avoid a rain of blades and bone shards falling directly onto him.

Elva lowered her arms, her hair falling limply as she did.

"... I surrender."

It was all she said.

[hr]

"Ah... I... think... I... see...?"

Eliablle spoke hesitatingly, tilting her head. To be honest, she hadn't the faintest idea just what 'Reon's button' actually meant beyond the fact it sounded quite inappropriate. Even if she had awareness of the anatomy being referenced, it was quite likely simply due to her human and near-human anatomy tutoring and thus she had never before heard it spoken of in quite such a manner. The rough language, though, that was more understandable.

"Er," she paused for a moment, realizing that virtually every attendant in the room was now staring so intensely at Sir Gillian that it seemed as if they were trying to burn a hole through his skull, "I must admit I have little awareness of the rough language used in informal situations... as you might understand, it's important to be polite when addressing nobility formally!"

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