No sooner then she had prepared to strike at the living figure that remained in the chamber, then that figure had suddenly sprouted horns and disappeared.

Aside from her knights, it was now.

Her heavy, shaky breathes were quite audible.

Fanilly drew in another. And another.

"... Thank you, again, Sir Gerard," she said, her blade lowering as she tried to steady herself. She was captain. She was a knight. She lead the Iron Roses.

She couldn't let herself give in to panic, not even for a few moments, simply because of something like that undead abomination.

There were plenty of unanswered questions remaining when it came to the disappeared figure. Had she seen horns on his head? The way he'd suddenly ceased to do [i]anything[/i] in spite of clearly being their opponent and then exhibited what she knew was quite advanced magic to whisk himself away...

It didn't make sense at all.

But they didn't have time to waste on contemplating what he'd been doing, or where he went. Even Lein's decision to head back up for Dame Serenity was something they couldn't afford to stand around and wait for. There was no way of knowing what lie on the bottom floor, and they had to do all they could to rescue the hostage.

"Take positions," Fanilly ordered, her voice far less shaky now, "Archers-archer to the rear. We can't afford to take any more time."

Onward.

As they came down the steps, voices could be heard. One female, high, sharp, and the other deeper and masculine.

"You've been manhandling that girl the moment she arrived," the female voice said, accusingly, "That doesn't help your plan, does it? She's already terrified, does she need to be in pain too?"

"A hostage will make us a far more difficult opponent, Fierense. I should think you would be wise enough to know as much," replied the male voice, calmly.

"That so? So you're proud of terrorizing a young girl? I knew you were trash, but I didn't think you were that low," the female voice swiftly shot back.

"I'm merely using all tools at my disposal, Fierense, unlike you."

They had almost reached the bottom floor.

"Rotten bastard," the female voice spat, "I wish I'd never even laid eyes on you, and I definitely-"

The air suddenly seemed to vibrate. A brilliant flash of light tore across Fanilly's vision, ahead of her, stopping her in her tracks. It took a few moments for her to understand what had happened.

Lightning. A flash of lighting had crossed ahead of her, to halt her advanced. There was no way it could have hit unless she blindly rushed ahead, and whoever unleashed it would certainly know as much.

The faint electrical crackling could still be heard.

Within the chamber were three living figures.

One a tall man clad in dark clothing, a white half-mask obscuring much of his face. The dark, hooded eyeholes made it difficult to see where he was looking. One hand gripped a long staff with a green sphere at the top end, and the other was holding a nem girl, gripping her arm tightly enough to hurt. Her facial features, her stature, they were all similar to Tili's, making it immediately obvious who she was.

She was gagged, her arms and legs bound.

To the right was what had to be the source of the lightning.

Her clothing faded blues and greys, her sharp blue eyes framed by white hair, and a wide-brimmed hat atop her head. The slender girl held no catalyst in her hand, lighting instead crackling between her fingers.

"Hah, the Iron Rose Knights," she commented, "It's like Mayon herself sees what garbage you are, right?"

She glanced towards the dark-clad figure, who gritted his teeth, raising his staff.

Aside from the three living figures, the forms of shambling undead gripping swords and axes and spears were shuffling. Fanilly could see the faint form of some kind of barrier encircling the figure holding the nem hostage.

The Knight-Captain raised her sword.

"In the name of the crown and the moon, surrender at once," she ordered, eyes drifting towards the witch once again. She hadn't made a move to cast another spell yet, "Release your prisoner and and come quietly and you will be shown mercy."

It was doubtful mercy would be anything but the most painless execution they could be granted, but at the very least it was a potentially gentler fate then dying here by the sword.

"Mercy? My, how amusing," the necromancer's lips curled into a smirk, "I'm not interested, I'm afraid. I think I'm more interested in hearing you ask for mercy instead."

The undead would make it difficult to reach him swiftly, not to mention the presence of the hostage, and of the lightning witch. In addition, she wasn't sure how strong the barrier surrounding the necromancer and his prisoner would be.

As it turned out, that wasn't the end of their worries.

The necromancer's staff gleamed.

Fanilly took her sword in both hands.

The lightning witch drew one hand back.

[@Rune_Alchemist][@PigeonOfAstora][@HereComesTheSnow][@Raineh Daze]

[hr]

As he listened to their arguments, Sir Adeforth continued to stroke his moustache for several moments. Eventually, he nodded.

"Forgive me, but it's somewhat difficult to shake the mindset of the castle being the safest place for the Princesses," he said, "But I suppose you're right. If there are more wicked spirits expecting to attack them here, then it will be far safer for them in Candaeln."

"As much as it feels like you're all simply throwing away my work," added Heartwood, "It's not as if it's not logical. Such wicked spirits are likely not operating with much individual thought. Thus, their plan of attack is preset, so to speak. They would be targeting the most likely location for your highnesses."

He gestured to the princesses. By this point, Elisandre had raised her head and was trembling far less, though the younger girl still refused to look up.

"Ordinarily," the court mage continued, "I would gladly agree with Sir..."

He paused for a moment as he glanced towards Nicomede.

"... You," he settled on after a moment, "But I suspect our opponent is not capable of more precise attacks in their current situation. Of course, and I'm sure Sir Adeforth agrees, the ultimate decision lies with our First Princess, does it not?"

Princess Elisandre's gaze had drifted, now, falling upon the prisoner.

Tili was still shaking, her golden eyes open wide, her body curled as if trying to collapse in on itself. It was clear that the exorcism's success had not removed the effect direct and prolonged contact with an evil spirit had on her yet.

"... She's still..." Elisandre trailed off after a moment, "... A-ah, yes, er, maybe we should move! Maletha... it might be for the best for both of us!"

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