The stomp alerted the Rosenving Heir just in time, and either by pure instinct or keen timing she took advantage of that split-second delay to react; her main weapon was abandoned, and she drew her sword to intercept the incoming thrust and shoved it aside with its fuller. 

With harm already out of the way, she swiftly lunged forward, dull amber burned within her eyes, feral rictus twisting her face into a violent mask as she led her sword to get through the old man Jonas' defense. 

All of sudden, Yvonne felt the terrible sting and cold on her calf, and something landed behind her with a heavy thwack. The unexpected attack threw Yvonne off balance, allowing the opponent to retreat a step backward. Jonas Delving was not pleased with such interference he halted his combo and stared darkly at the petite noblewoman with a bleeding leg. A blue spear, a replica of his own, stood at an angle behind her. 

He stood still, while most of his attention locked on Yvonne, he noticed a tiny silhouette of a cat advancing toward him. 
__

The ice grew rapidly from the enraged thugs' ankles, forming imprisoning cubes that completely halted their advance.  

On the other front, the wounded warg changed its strategy by striking the first captain's elbow. His sword dropped, and he downed again. It was at that moment the warg used its powerful jaw to twist and crush the captain's arm. 

Just in time, the second captain came to aid and stabbed his pike at the shadowy animal's shoulder. The warg released its hold and retreated, dislodging the pike in the process, but the second captain's assault was not yet over, he thrust his pike again, hitting the now staggered warg on its neck this time, and like a nightmare, it suddenly disappeared.

The wargs were not the only ones that could attack coordinatedly. Seemingly ignoring the relentless bites and tackles, the enraged thugs moved closer to one another. When a warg attacked one of the thugs, his brethren quickly provided a counter-attack with his weapons. Some blows managed to land for every assault launched, yet the enraged remained unflinching, not even when the oversized wolves tried to chomp down their wrist in an attempt to disarm them. 

The more injury they sustained, the more they looked like animated statues. Fumes started to vaporize above their heads, the wound glows even brighter as if their blood was made of the hellfire itself. Every bite and every mauling were rewarded not only by hardness but also by smoldering searing heat. 

___

Three of the enraged thugs now stopped dead on their track, and seeing the opportunity, Louise let go of her musket and drew her broad sword. Swiftly, she pirouetted to cut the thug on the back of his knee, only to hear the violent clanging when her sword hit growing ice. The thug remained standing, his arms reached to block, but Louise did not lose her momentum, retreating a step, she then drove her sword precisely to the enraged's heart. 

The feedback felt like she was stabbing a cluster of glasses. The enraged being let out a coarse scream, his hand clawed the air before it went limp. Not giving Louise ample time to examine the death of her enemy, or even to draw her sword back, the ice had encroached on the dead thug's chest and trapped her sword with it. 

___