With extreme caution, the four Mistwalkers approach the giant guardian at the other end of the long foyer, their footsteps thankfully muffled by the elaborate rug underneath them. As they draw closer, step by step, the towering knight refuses to budge. It's hard to determine if it's even aware of their presence despite their somewhat noisy entrance into the room. Erik and Zyra follow at a significant distance, aware of their lack of melee combat experience.

When the men on point come close enough, the giant, kneeling knight finally begins to budge with an almost mechanical-sounding series of clanks of its armor shifting and moving. The thick layer of dust coating his entire body shakes off, and he slowly pushes himself up to his feet, with his massive sword clutched in his right fist, a fist which is as large as a grown man's torso. Once he straightens his posture, he turns to face away from the staircase leading up to the congregation hall, taking an offensive stance and holding the greatsword – which has a blade that is as long as Royd is tall – as if it were a normal single-handed weapon.

“There.” Erik whispers to Zyra, pointing at the gargantuan warrior. “His underarm area is completely unprotected.” He refers to the small spot in the armpit region where armor is usually unable to guard, which is something that holds true for the large foe before them, as his arm plates don't directly connect with his cuirass.

“Will you really be able to hit that spot?” Zyra asks, doubtful that even the talented archer can reliably strike such a tiny area on a moving target.

“I have to wait and see how he moves and strikes. If he has the wherewithal to never lift his sword overhead, then it would be extremely difficult.” The noble patiently waits for the fight to begin so his analysis can start with it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I'll need you to light my arrowheads on fire, just as before. Can you do that?”

Zyra nods with confidence. “Definitely.”

The four men at the front continue their staredown with the silent, unmoving castle guardian. Veros and Atticus have their shields lifted, anticipating a powerful attack to be unleashed at any instant.

It's difficult to make out any details of the giant knight's face, as it's almost entirely covered by his helmet, which has only a thin, T-shaped slit to allow his eyes, nose, and mouth to go unobsctructed. His skin seems to be somewhat greyish, but not as decomposed as the undead survivors' outside the castle.

“What are we waiting for?” Kellar whispers.

“It'd be foolish of us to try and strike first.” Veros answers without turning his head. “We need to stay defensive until we develop a proper idea of what we're dealing with.”

Another pensive moment passes with both parties expecting the other to make the first move, and the silent, massive warrior suddenly jerks his body into a running stance and charges at the men at the front, lifting his greatsword overhead as he closes in.

“Move!” Veros loudly and urgently commands. He and Atticus leap out of the way of the huge knight's path, successfully avoiding a powerful overhead slam of the gargantuan slab of sharpened iron, which strikes the stone floor with such incredible force, that the sliced rug reveals deep cracks that are left behind.

“Well, I guess that answers that.” Erik remarks on the ease of finding out if the huge knight would reveal his exposed underarm. He takes out an arrow and nocks it into his bowstring. “Get ready to cast Combustion soon.”

“Right.” Zyra, preparing for the cast, preemptively makes the appropriate hand gesture.

Meanwhile, Veros and Atticus quickly push themselves up to their feet after their narrow escape from what would've been a fatal attack. Unfortunately, they still find themselves within the reach of their enemy's monumental sword, and need to get out of it as quickly as possible. Kellar and Royd were already making their way around to the giant guardian's vulnerable back side, but of course is was too risky for them to make any moves at the moment of the attack.

The cursed foe sweeps his greatsword in a wide horizontal arc to the right, towards Atticus, who turns his body in time to protect himself from the swing with his shield. However, it's far too strong for him to redirect, and he's pushed back by the overwhelming force, nearly falling off his feet entirely. He's able to regain his footing and resume his defensive stance, but the enemy has already switched his target to Veros.

The giant knight takes another horizontal swing at the veteran, who barely escapes its reach by inches, and the end of the arc nearly touches Atticus yet again. He follows through the swinging motion into a thrust, which Veros is barely able to deflect as the very tip of the blade grazes his shield, yet it still manages to knock him back a step.

The massive brute stops his offense in order to obtain some situational awareness and see where the Mistwalkers are in relation to his own position. Atticus and Veros are able to stay in the southern side, which the foe is facing, and Kellar and Royd have managed to slip closer to the northern side, closer to the stairs leading to the congregation hall. The giant knight faces his back towards the eastern wall so he can try to keep all of the fighters in his field of view.

“It would be better if they could get his right side facing towards me.” Erik comments, anxiously waiting for the opportunity to loose an arrow. “If I can get an arrow under its sword arm, this could be over a lot sooner. It might give them the chance they need to strike its weak points.”

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The four men fighting the colossal enemy are constantly attempting to find chances to move in and quickly strike, but are immediately retaliated against by a wide, defensive swing as the corrupted knight simultaneously steps back from them.

“We need to bait him forward, away from the wall.” Veros says, keeping his shield up. “We won't be able to attack if keeps his back protected. Everyone move closer together, towards the west wall.”

Veros, Atticus, Royd, and Kellar gradually regroup closer to the wall opposite the giant.

“Get as close together as possible.” The veteran orders.

“You sure that's a good idea?” Kellar asks. “It could cut us down in one swing.”

“I want to get him to try an overhead swing. It'll be easier to retaliate against.”

With all four fighters grouped together, almost in a single-file line, the huge knight is successfully fooled into being pulled away from the eastern wall. He tries to inch closer to them, and they respond by inching back, feigning fear and a lack of options. Again, the massive brute jerks forward and lifts his greatsword overhead with both hands, charging at the men with killing intent. However, an orange spot of light flashes across the air, and hits the unprotected left underarm of the foe. The searing arrowhead causes the hulking knight to groan in a low, scratchy, grotesque voice and curl his body to the side, stopping his rushdown towards the Mistwalkers and letting his left hand go of the sword's handle.

Veros is initially surprised, and looks over to the southern side of the foyer to see Erik nock another arrow. Wasting no time in capitalizing on the enemy's momentary incapacitation, he urges everyone forward.

“Surround him! Royd, go for his left leg!” He yells his orders, and the men comply, flanking the guardian on all sides. The brawny woodcutter rushes to the enemy's left, and lifts his thick, heavy axe to strike. The giant knight notices, and after pulling the arrow out from his underarm, lifts his clenched left fist with the intent of swatting Royd away. But before he can swing, a second fiery arrow rushes through the air and embeds itself into the knight's helmet, though not deep enough to pierce its head.

With the opponent now distracted by the second arrow, Royd bashes the blade of his axe against the back of the armored behemoth's left knee, forcing it to bend and buckle underneath him. The monstrous being lets out another painful groan as Royd steps back to create distance once again. Kellar, now at the guardian's back-right side, notices a crucial weak spot: a tiny gap between the brute's helmet and his cuirass, allowing for an unobstructed strike to the back of his neck. Considering that the enemy is still reeling from the blow to the knee, the rogue decides that now is the best opportunity to attempt the attack, and rushes in with his dagger in an icepick grip, intent on stabbing it into the small, vulnerable, exposed skin.

However, the tall warrior straightens his back, having begun to regain his bearings. Veros, seeing this, yells at his comrade, who is proceeding with his rushdown.

“Kellar, wait!” He yells out.

Kellar slows his sprint, but it's too late. The guardian swings his thick, tree trunk-like right arm around, bashing the back of his fist against Kellar's body. The rogue turns himself and lifts his left arm in time to use it to take the brunt of the blow and protect his torso, but the sheer force of the punch sends him flying several feet through the air, causing him to land on his left shoulder with all of his weight. The harsh landing causes a repulsive cracking sound and the ex-mercenary quickly rolls off of it and screams.

“Ahh, fuck! Fuck!” Kellar yells in agony as his shoulder is clearly dislocated and unsettled from its usual position, lower than it should be. He wants to grasp it with his right hands, but knows it would only cause more pain, so he resolves to grit his teeth and try to crawl away, back to the eastern wall.

Unfortunately, the giant knight has seen the rogue's weakened state, and begins to push himself up to his feet once more while keeping a threatening eye on the injured Mistwalker.

“Zyra, light it!” Erik, witnessing the dangerous predicament Kellar has found himself it, urges the mage to light another arrow on fire.

Making the appropriate hand gesture of closing her hand, but extending her thumb and index finger, Zyra aims at the arrow Erik is holding out and channels her focus. “Combustra.” She whispers, and a small, controlled flame erupts from her fingertip, setting the arrowhead aflame.

The noble takes aim and draws the bowstring back, waiting for the perfect instant to loose his arrow. The enemy, paying little attention to the other Mistwalkers, walks toward the downed rogue with a limp left leg, lifting his sword overhead with just his right arm to unleash another devastating swing that would, beyond a shadow of a doubt, kill anyone on the receiving end of it.

“Kellar!” Veros screams and takes off into a sprint to try and save his comrade, but as he passes around the huge guadrian, a third arrow cuts the air in an orange flash, this time striking the exposed right underarm of the foe, causing him to groan in pain again as he drops his arm, and his sword with it.

“Royd, take the right leg!” Veros issues another order as he rushes to Kellar's aid.

The brawny woodcutter rushes the wounded giant again and strikes the back of his right knee, once more causing his leg to buckle. Meanwhile, Veros grabs Kellar's right arm and begins to drag him to safety, further from the behemoth's reach.

“The back of the neck!” Kellar yells as he's being pulled. “There's a small spot open on the back of his neck!”

Atticus, who is still standing directly behind the gargantuan foe, notices the mentioned spot – the tiny gap between the helmet and cuirass. The guardian is still incapacitated, unable to push itself up to its feet as quickly as it did before, due to both knees being damaged. The perfect opportunity is presenting itself to end the fight. The Threcian knight drops his shield, and uses his left hand to grab the blade of his sword, adopting a half-sword grip for a more precise attack. He runs towards the enemy's back, and before the massive brute can stand, Atticus leaps forward with his sword raised, and uses his deadly momentum to drive the tapered end into the small gap leaving the back of the guardian's neck unprotected.

The towering warrior first screams in agonizing pain, and for a brief moment, flails around in a desperate attempt to fling Atticus off of him. The black-clad knight twists his sword, still deeply impaled into the giant's neck, with an audible, disgusting crunch. The lumbering foe suddenly falls forward as limply as a puppet with its strings severed, hitting the ground with a loud thud, and blowing up a small cloud of dust from the force of its fall. Silence fills the massive foyer again as the Mistwalkers quietly wait to see if the beast still stirs, yet it doesn't.

“Is that it?” Royd timidly asks, walking up to the corpse as Atticus pushes himself off. “Is it dead?”

“It better be.” Atticus answers, stepping on the brute's head as leverage while he pulls his sword from its neck.