"Understood, Captain," Tiral stated flatly, slipping the dagger back into its usual hiding spot before following his superior further into the crypt. The walk down was a lot less treacherous than it probably would've been otherwise (mainly thanks to the other Knights that charged ahead like bucks in heat towards the enemy), which gave the mage a change to catch his breath. His heart was still pounding from that last encounter, but at the very least he had more than enough stamina to spare. Was it the excitement that was keeping him strung-up right now?
...
Probably.
Following the Captain onto the bottom floor, Tiral stopped for a moment and looked at the scene with a blank stare. Two Sults (one completely naked), Marianne being assaulted by a weird pile of floating armor, and... What appeared to be the remaining enemies either out cold or in the process of being knocked out cold (or killed; he could care less, honestly).
"...What in the name of the Goddesses am I looking at?!" he cried out amidst all of the chaos, staring at the group with a look of disbelief before sighing. "Honestly, you'd think an order of knights would have a bit more dignity..."
Rolling his eyes, Tiral walked around the edge of the room, quietly chanting under his breath as he moved up the the lightning mage that was lying out cold on the floor. With a wave of his hand, the enemy's body was quickly encased in ice, save for his head. Shattering the body was certainly an option, but... Well, if they could interrogate him, then all the better.
...
But how the hell was he supposed to help handle the mess that the Captain had just thrown herself into?!
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