[center][h2][color=b5a0d2][b]⚘[/b]   Steffen Gravinir   [b]⚘[/b][/color][/h2][/center][hr]
More undeads fell, not few were as forgiving as the Knight Captain's clean and elegant swordplay. The Ingvarr felt little satisfaction as he smashed the joints of one of the last undeads who were willing to put up a fight for their wretched masters who forcefully disturbed their spirits, before brutally stomped on their skull, the bones cracked like corns to fire, the amethyst fire raging extinguished for good. They felt no pain, but the livings would feel no pleasure hearing this was the final end to their ancestors. But only this would guarantee their eternal rests.

However, the path forward was still not yet clear. Something within his sixth sense immediately stabbed at his heart the moment that gleaming light sliced through the darkness, perhaps just as fast as the Knight Captain's, but unlike her, he was too far away to act. Thankfully, it was the Knight Captain, and she managed to slip from danger by a hair's breadth. Twice. 

Suspicions fired off the more this new enemy made himself known to him and his fellow knights. The titanic structure of a man, the large clunky axe, glowing mythical luminescence, the long beard, and most importantly the fancy armor. The hellish beast decoration were not just for intimidation. They looked unfamiliar to Thalnese inhabitants, but these patterns were more common sights for the northerners, especially for those familiar with Barukstaed. 

[i]A land older than time, harder than a serpent scale, untamed and hellish cold...[/i]

Fanilly wanted the new enemy to be at least kept occupied, as it was pretty instinctive that neutralizing this armoured hulk of an enemy was not going to be easy. As the man took a step forward, the Ingvarr too stepped a foot in front of the Knight Captain, his action conveyed just as much as his unspoken words of volunteers. He would take this fight. For the mission, but also for his curiosity. He wanted to confirm what he likely already knew. 

Steffen stopped right outside of the axe strike range of his enemy, the only part of his body close enough would be his right foot, which he put down without a sound. Glaring straight at the steelclad conspirator for a brief second, the foot that seemed indecisive one moment earlier immediately dug into the stone. Within an eye-blink, Steffen was deep in his strike range, his war hammer already on a downward swing right towards him. However, his opponent read his palm, as both weapons slammed into one another with mighty reverberance, creating a lock. A titanic force against an unbowing mountain.

Steffen pushed his strength forward down, seemingly gaining the upper hand, but quickly realized his mistake. His opponent was trying to slide the hammer into an uncomfortable position before retaliating with his own immense strength. Thus, the Ingvarr very swiftly broke the lock on his own terms and quickly moved away from any counter attacks.

[color=b5a0d2]"This feels familiar..."[/color] Steffen mumbled. This strength...he'd be here for a while. 

[color=b5a0d2]"I'd need a helping hand, to be certain."[/color] He turned to his knights. He could probably go neck in neck with him in a duel, but this is not supposed to be a duel. There is no honor to be had here, nor is there any that Steffen wanted. He wanted this person neutralized, the hostage rescued and the tomb cleansed. Nothing more. [color=b5a0d2]"Oh, and Captain, take these."[/color] He took out the vials from Sir Fleuri's and tossed it to Fanilly. [color=b5a0d2]"Knock them dead...again."[/color]

[@VitaVitaAR][@HereComesTheSnow][@ERode][@Crimson Paladin]