When Tanamar's containment field expired, Victorius lay in a pool of blood-- also expired.
The blonde footman appeared to have died from an open wound on his abdomen... a slow and agonizing way to die.
Also... his 'good' hand had been crushed and broken. Very nice.
Tycondrius gestured towards the corpse, "If you're quite finished, I'll be taking the body."
"Seven hells..." Tanamar spat... "Do whatever you want. I'm leaving."
Tycon chuckled to himself, watching the Holy Lancer's back as he departed.
"Brother-Zenon... what are the chances that we can return the equipment at full price?"
"Egh..." The Librarian frowned, "Not too good, I think."
"I had assumed as much," Tycon swept his hair back and sighed. "Very well... Let's hang him up. It would be a shame for the materials to go to waste."
...
