At this phase of the fight, Elin assumed complete control of Walter's body. She raised his fists, tucked his chin into his shoulder, and lowered his center of balance. He focused on casting his magic.

Alright, Walter. Let's see what you can do, Elin thought.

The wizard copied the paladin's sliding engagement, crouching low and leaning forward. He was physically slower than Elin, and, because the Duke of the Rotting Garden wanted to engage at close range, the nosferatu waited for his arrival.

Contrary to his physical intensity, his voice was calm. "[Lightning V]."

Calling the epitome of a lightning strike 'bright' underestimated how painful the blindness was. Every cell the electricity passed through charred black, and, as the monster's bonus HP reverted the physical damage to something benign, a series of strikes continued to burn him.

So, his form flickered between utterly destroyed and battered, atoms swirling like a dust devil, until the rapid lightning strikes ceased.

It seems when he inhabits my body, his magic is weaker because he has to rely on my mana pool, but we fight better at close range. In his body, this mass of magic power makes him difficult to control. He's like an unwilling warhorse trying to buck me off, and his untrained reactions are delayed, so I have to think ahead and direct him. I can probably defend Walter if the monster aggresses, but I doubt I can get a finishing shot.

The Duke of the Rotting Garden regained his senses in time to see Walter's fist collide with his nose. The force of the punch whiplashed the nosferatu's head and scraped the skin off Walter's knuckles.

"Walter, that punch should have had more power. When we get back, I'm putting you through a severe training regimen." Elin said, using Walter's voice. Walter replied sarcastically to himself, "Sorry, I'm so weak, Ms. Warrior. But, can we stop talking to ourselves? I need my voice to cast spells."

At the mention of further spellcasting, the Duke of the Rotting Garden ducked his head and dived through a door. The wood splintered. Another spell would obviously end the fight.

"That won't stop it." Walter shaped his hand into a gun and pointed at the building the nosferatu sought refuge in. "[Lightning V]."

Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled.

Nothing happened. Walter glanced up to see a glowing-hot weathervane. A quick survey revealed most of the buildings had them at the peak of their roofs. Real-world physics interfered with game logic, and the metal grounded the lightning before it could reach the monster.

We can wait and siege, or we can go in. Neither option is sound, because the undead can wait eternally, and entering close-quarters puts us at a disadvantage. Our best strategy is to wait for my own body to recover. Then I can personally flush the monster out while Walter ambushes it outside.

"I haven't been pressured like this in a long time," the Duke of the Rotting Garden called out from the darkness of his hiding spot. "I think the last time was that foul-mouthed paladin about a decade ago."

Is he talking about my father?

An avalanche of weights fell on Walter's side of the scales, and [Charm Person] followed immediately. With his newly discovered magic force, he shrugged the mind control off, but a second [Charm Person] slammed down on him right after. A tug-of-war of runaway magic and Walter's autonomy wreaked havoc in his mind. Elin wanted the monster dead. Now. Her surging irrational anger continuously focused on that task, and it projected as a command.

"Elin!" Walter said, "Stop!"

The monster sensed weakness, and like a snake, he uncoiled. Too late, Elin realized her mistake. She mounted a desperate defense.

The Duke of the Rotting Garden aimed to end the fight and directed its fingers to pierce Walter's heart. A combination of experience, constant training, and natural talent let her bring up Walter's forearm and deflected the monster's wrist.

It wasn't enough.

The monster's momentum and sheer strength carried it forward, and, while it missed the heart, the fingernails stabbed him at the collarbone. Like a cougar carrying off its prey, the monster slammed Walter into a nearby plaster wall, dug into it with its freehand and feet, and scuttled up the side of the building. All the while, it kept trying to curl its fingers deeper into his chest and kill him.

Elin, a seasoned veteran, familiar with the viciousness of monsters, kept her terror clamped down. There was always hope of turning the situation around. Walter did not understand this. He hesitated because of a mixture of overthinking and fear and struggled to find a spell he needed to cast.

Her mother, the She-Devil of the Saber, was adamant about her learning to fight as a woman. She ignored her daughter's insistence the advantage a man has with extra muscle meant nothing in a world of enhanced strength. Time and again, her mother reminded her magic is not infinite, and she should learn to do more with less. A woman should use every advantage she could muster against a man, and, doubly-so for Elin, since a human should waste no expense fighting monsters.

Elin, for the first time, was grateful for her mother's rigidity.

Walter's numinous self was a willful warhorse before, but now it might as well be a rampaging elephant. At any moment, he threatened to eject her spirit from his body. Elin's only hope to save Walter was to use what little strength she could wrangle.

She flattened his back against the wall, and the friction helped him slip from the claws. With a deft twist, she dived under the nosferatu's armpit, threw Walter's calf over the monster's face, and locked in a flying armbar.

Work with me, Walter. You can do this!

A second later, the creature's elbow cracked. It lost its grip on the wall, because of Walter's angle, and both fell to the cobblestone below.

The landing was rough. After the impact, Walter forced his body to remember breathing.

"Thank you," he coughed. "[Teleport]."

Don't thank me, this is my fault!