Imogen felt the blows connect, felt the claymore snap in two as it crashed into Nicoli.  But she was not immediately aware of the effects, as the spreading smoke quickly masked the scene from her sight.  Cautiously, knowing just how dangerous this opponent could still be, she circled around the edge of the cloud, swords at the ready.

But nothing emerged from the dark.  When the smoke cleared, only Nicoli's crumpled, bloody corpse was visible.

The swords-mistress breathed a sigh of relief, all the tension leaving her at once.  It was a shame to loose the claymore that way- but she might have lost a lot more, if she had been less lucky.  She drew her remaining swords back to her, letting go of the two she held, and allowing them to float in a broken circle around her, a gap being left out of habit where the claymore usually was.  With her weapons thus arranged, she stood straight, and bowed, facing the remains of her opponent.

Who had he been, she wondered?  An assassin, a vigilante, a mercenary?  He had been cold, but efficient- no doubt a pleasure to work with, but unnerving to face.  Imogen looked at what was left of him, and thought on this, thought on him, and anything she might learn from this.  She had proven herself the greater warrior, but she respected Nicoli's skill, and knew that his tactics and movements were worth studying, perhaps replicating.

But for now, she still had a tournament to win.

She raised her eyes to the sky, and shouted into the air: "Dynamo, you have been watching.  This is my victory- let us not delay any longer!  Whatever comes next for me and the others, we would face it now."