It was completely unreal. The Bandit King was a monster, a beast loosed from the pit that could turn away any attack set upon him, even deprived of one of his arms. Even having experienced it first hand, having fought him alone before inflicting that crippling injury with her dagger, Fanilly was still stunned by the sheer combat prowess the massive man betrayed. Deflecting these attacks so easily, massive leg stepping back, drawing him out of the way of that sharp kick as he moved to parry the bardiche with the flat of his blade...

But even mountains can fall.

The dust in his eyes caused him to stumble, struggling to reorient himself as his crippled arm came up in a bid to clear it from his eyes, his blade lingering far longer then intended in one spot.

Sir Fionn's attack, and the ash and dust flung for his eyes, had done its job. Forced to defend against the former, unable to anticipate the latter, and now blinded even if only for a moment...!

Realization struck Jeremiah as he managed to clear just one of his eyes. The razor edge of Sir Gerard's blade pierced the night, tearing through the open air towards his torso.

No matter how powerful Jeremiah's body was, muscle couldn't easy stop a sword.

Silver and red bit through flesh, burying itself up to the hilt in the Bandit King's side. His entire body tensed, muscles contracting, eyes wide now, unclouded by debris as his grip on his blade tightened.

Skin, muscle, organs, undeniably the damage caused by Sir Gerard's blade was severe. Lethal.

And yet the Three-Hundred Man Slayer wasn't ready to die.

Fury in his eyes, he roared, swinging his sword into the air, over his head, now disregarding his own safety. If he was going to die, he'd take this damned knight with him...!

Fanilly sprang forward, thrusting upwards and inwards. Her blade joined Gerard's sinking deep into Jeremiah's flesh, piercing beneath his arm, into his armpit and burying her sword just as deeply in the massive man's body. His right arm feel loosely at his side, enormous blade clattering to the ground.

She'd seen her opening. That split second before the blade swung down. To finish him more quickly, speed him to his end and remove the threat he posed to her knights.

She couldn't hesitate.

She couldn't allow Sir Gerard to take the blow.

Gritting his teeth, Jeremiah let out a gasp, a rattling sound escaping his lips.

"Damn you.. Iron... Roses...!"

Fanilly stepped back, drawing her sword from that massive body.

Once Sir Gerard freed his blade from Jeremiah's flesh as well, the hulking figure would fall.

Bandit King Jeremiah hit the ground with a resounding thud.

It was the end of the Three-hundred Man Slayer.

But there was no time to take in what had just occurred. No time to mourn Sir Rickert's death.

The battle had to end.

Fanilly inhaled deeply, the small blonde knight filling her lungs in a bid to ensure her voice would carry as far as possible over the din of combat.

"The Bandit King is dead!" she cried, thrusting her bloodstained sword into the air, "Surrender, or suffer his fate!"

Throughout the camp, those bandits who had heard the captain's cry hesitated. Some fell to their knees in surrender, while others stopped in uncertainty.

The most experience veterans among their number, however, would have to be cut down.

Fanilly's blade lowered.

Her eyes drifted over the huge, muscular frame of the dead Bandit King. His eyes were wide and unfocused, the count from Sir Gerard's blade piercing him through his side, the other from her blade under his arm, crimson flowers blooming in his flesh.

Her gaze left his still body, and came to halt on the bisected corpse of the knight the man had slain.

"... Sir Rickert..."

[@Raineh Daze][@Rune_Alchemist][@Psyker Landshark][@HereComesTheSnow][@Saiyan][@The Otter][@Crimson Paladin][@ERode][@Psychic Loser][@Richard Horthy][@Rin]