Before it can wind up all the way to bring claws down on Athessa, there's a flash of emerald-green fire blazing down the length of a sword, which swiftly finds purchase in the twisted form of the shade, terminating momentum.

Loxley, having chosen to pursue and assist the lady and leave the one on the right to whatever fates Matthias and Richard can concoct between them, drags his rapier out from the shrieking monster as strange flames of green flare and dancing across draping fabric, ropey and rotted muscle. Fanged teeth gleam in the dark as Loxley brings his sword around again in a fiery slash, ichor spattering on icy walls.