Semyon was still in the land of the death. He was still standing vanguard alongside Max to drive away the restless creatures that tried to drag them down, and near death was as sure a thing as it had been since he was first dragged in here. Aside from the fact they were now on the move, refusing to go through the portal hadn't really changed much at all.

It was the fact he was growing used to this, that unsettled the Wight.

In a way it was to be expected. He had seen far too many soldiers terrified of combat, only to grow numb as the years dragged on. Tears fading to jokes and songs, shudders washed away under drink or shoved down beneath repeated sayings. Combat itself was nothing knew to Semyon, and the steady tide of monstrous dead that pressed against him helped lend a sense of familiarity to an otherwise alien world.

He still wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, however.

"By Dimitritch..." He muttered the litany quietly to himself, offering only a nod to Daisy before facing out to the world around them. Max he kept a closer eye on, fighting once more at his side, but recalling clearly how the man had all-but snapped before. The sudden change to clarity was welcome, but suspicious: A change one way could lead easily to a change the other.

But the dead came first. Crawling, grabbing, lunging things that Semyon fended away with brutal efficiency once more. Swift blocks, heavy throws and the occasional lunging, driving blow of his own limbs sent the beasts back or down to be swept away. No longer quite as dense as before, spreading out thanks to their group's movement across the area, the fighting became almost easy, a simple pattern he had been doing for over two hundred years.

There was nothing to do but fight, nothing to think but of the next counter, block or blow, and nowhere to go until Daisy had finished whatever she was planning on doing.

It was almost familiar.