With the skeletons largely knocked to the ground, disabled or destroyed for the most part, the moment to focus on the great undead was at hand. Fanilly had judged it the greatest threat in the room, even more dangerous then the living conspirator beyond it. As the arrows were loosed, she was already moving alongside Gerard, to reach the monstrosity and do as much damage as possible to it before it could make a move.

The air-coated arrow struck the creature in its shoulder just as it prepared to swing. Immediately its arm twisted a skin tore and flesh ripped, pressurized wind erupting through its corrupted anatomy to rip through its decayed flesh. The sheer force of its descending arm falling to the side caused the head of its hammer to pulverize a wayward skeleton, crushing it into the stone floor even as the limb was nearly entirely severed.

When it attempted to move its arm once more, the last remaining strands of tissue snapped, and it fell free entirely.

And the arrows to its legs, two, caused it to stumble, stagger, briefly hitting one knee as it was disrupted. It made no sound, even when Lein's arrow struck it in its unseen face, but even if was incapable of feeling pain it was clear that its movement was at least briefly ceased.

As such, it was unable to do much to halt Gerard's attack, and the sound of the mace striking it in the leg was that of an ugly crack, as bone almost certainly shattered, flesh smoldering from the divine weapon's impact.

It was strong, but slow and mindless. Fanilly had judged their opponent correctly! This monster would go down swiftly, and then they'd be able to advance to the final level!

The Knight-Captain sprinted forward as the undead creature raised its remaining hand, her blade cleaving through the stale air and biting into its wrist. The arc of her swing parted flesh and slipped through bone, and in a flash, trailing foul green and black fluids, the creature's hand went sailing through the air.

With all its offensive options taken from it, surely there was little more threat it posed.

Fanilly drew her sword back.

"We-ah?!"

Something suddenly erupted from the stump of the undead's arm, wrapping around her wrist. It was followed by more of its kind, like so many red worms, swiftly attempting to encase the girl's sword arm.

"Wh-wha?!"

For a few moments, Fanilly couldn't help but panic. The red tendrils, what appeared to be the monster's weaponized muscular tissue, were encasing her arm swiftly, traveling towards her shoulder and attempting to reach her face. Her heart hammering, her eyes widening, for that moment her composure had entirely shattered as she desperately attempted to tug herself free.

It was trying to reach into her head and kill her, it was running across her and trying to find any space it would be able to tear her open and kill her. It was trying. It was so close. She wasn't able to cut it. She couldn't-

Fanilly's body tensed as she slammed one foot back, bracing herself, as she positioned her body as far back as possible to make room for a clean blow to cut through the muscle tissue tendrils.

An order wasn't needed here.

Needless to say, she was still afraid, but even without waiting for her knights she was reaching with her still-free arm for the dagger on her waist. The faster she was free the faster she was away from it the faster they'd be able to kill it...!

From the the monster's ruined shoulder, more of the red tendrils emerged, coiling through the air in a sickly crimson mass.

With this in mind, it was likely a decisive blow was required to end the beast.

Either the head, or destroying as much of the torso as possible.

[@Rune_Alchemist][@VahkiDane][@HereComesTheSnow][@Raineh Daze]

[hr]

When Fionn came in direct contact with the wicked spirit, anywhere his skin touched it was struck with a sensation not unlike burning. But it wasn't the warm fire of Reon, scouring wickedness and evil from the world.

It was cold. A burning, furious cold, an absence of light and life. Not the soothing coolness of Mayon's waters, or the chill of her ice as it sealed away darkness.

It was a howling darkness, the dead of winter when nothing stirs.

But even this creature was not immune to harm.

First the blade to its throat, which did not kill it but caused it to writhe, disrupting its attempts to claw through Fionn in order to reach its true target. Then the second blade, the dagger to its abdomen, causing a dark mist to emerge from the injury around the blade as it let out another shriek.

But the final blow was Nicomede's weaponization of the remaining holy water. Its entire existence a wicked thing, and with the fires of Reon already licking its spiritual body, the holy water suddenly coating it before freezing inwards and piercing its body caused it to let out a truly unearthly sound, one that was more akin to the howling of wind or the rattling of dead branches then anything produced by a living thing.

"D-Dame Tyaethe..."

Elisandre was still hugging her younger sister close, covering her eyes as the vampire paladin caught the both of them. The warmth of her body was in sharp contrast to the almost palpable frigidity of the thing as it fell to the ground, spasming, twitching, a blue flame now beginning to spread from the center of its body as it started to break apart.

The Princess looked away, unable to watch any longer.

"... Well, it scarcely looks as if my assistance was required," a new voice spoke.

It belonged to a young man, clad in purple and black robes, one hand with its fingers wrapped around a smooth dark grey staff. It was tipped with a spherical purple gem. His features were perhaps best described as beautiful rather then handsome, and he wore his dark purple hair long and straight.

Some would perhaps recognize him as the court mage, Arken Heartwood. His family was of some reknown, son the court mage and daughter having  made some name for herself even though she was still a student.

He was accompanied by the Crown Knight who had been sent to fetch him, eyes lingering on the spasming shape of the wicked spirit's dwindling corporeal form.

He approached without hesitation, kneeling beside it.

"Hmm... Interesting. A wicked spirit, certainly, but..." he commented to himself as he examined what little remained of it.

[@Krayzikk][@The Otter][@Psyker Landshark][@Raineh Daze]