[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zQXUPoA.png[/img]
[sub][@PigeonOfAstora][/sub][/center]
In time, the heat faded.

From the room, and from her heart.

In the absence of conflict, Serenity allowed herself to settle into standstill, drawing in deep breathes. There had been no space to exchange any final words, and in the same way, there was no reason now to imagine rebuttals or clear up any confusions. All that remained was self-reflection, a simple one at that. On one hand, perhaps she had severely overestimated her opponent's abilities, if [i]he[/i] had believed that she could actually threaten his life, under the premise that she was armed to the full extent of a noble of House Arcedeen. On the other hand, she was certainly lacking still, if her thoughts naturally rested upon the lack of divinely-blessed armaments, of ancient blades forged by immortal craftsmen, of shields that shone with holy light, as what was necessary for murder.

If she was where she wished to be, a shortsword that melted like wax in the embrace of bloodfire would be sufficient. One would simply have to strike faster than it could melt, pulverizing rather than cutting into flesh.

But she wasn't where she wished to be. And she knew that.

Serenity pressed her palm against her eyes, brushing away the sweat and tears. Shifted her hand lower, pressing her thumb against the side of her nose. Breathe in deep from the mouth, breath out quick from the nose. Clogged up blood splattered against the tomb, the only real blood that was spilled in that frenzied exchange. Her armor was singed at parts, but not compromised. Her weapons, outside of the shortsword, were still intact and capable. Her comrades were still fighting, both above and below. The vampire and demon that had both lurked within the crypt had chosen to excuse themselves of whatever else remained.

So really, what was there to do?

Three steps, crossing past the saber and the hand, before she retrieved the flanged mace. Seven strides, bringing her to the threshold that the four Iron Roses had descended down into. Now, just one fli-

Lein came in view, the hundi's expression a mask of paranoia and fear, dread and anxiety.

Serenity stared at him, then let out a long, long sigh.

[b]"The axeman's still up above. Do you plan on assisting with that, Lein, and leaving the Captain another man short?"[/b]