What looked like a giant clad in knightly armor suddenly landed atop the entrance gate, stopping to peer down at the scene. Mithias shot his gaze at it, or him, without otherwise moving, and the two merely observed each other for the moment. Both warriors took in the details of their opponent: size, weapons, the condition of the armor Artorius was wearing, the grace with which the behemoth had made his landing, etc. Any knight in any realm, for any time in existence, all of them, knew that in war there were no rules. There was no beforehand knowledge of what your enemy was bringing to the table and no expectation of honor or mercy from an enemy. As a knight, if you picked a fight, you had to be ready to deal with the consequences. 

Goldibanne stepped out from the gates. Keeping Artorius in his peripheral vision, Mithias switched his attention to her. Yet another inhuman being had stepped out of the woodwork of this world. Her voice was bitter and repulsive, filled with arrogance and mockery. It seemed she had not heard the radio report from the guards, and the pile of gift weaponry had also escaped her notice. Still, she would prove herself to be much more of a danger, exposing some sort of magic that looked like liquefied metal, and it was extremely hot. 

At the very instant that Mithias recognized a threat, he pulled his two, titanium swords. Upon the sound of unleashed blades, the guard that had been cowering just in front of the vampire's feet suddenly leap to cognition and scrambled to his feet, fleeing with wide eyes back to the safety of the gate, stammering incomprehensibly. He was terrified, having just seen this monster take a bullet and show no signs of injury. His instinct was to gtfo.

Mithias could have held him hostage, using him as a human shield, but he did not. He had let the man go and instead kept his watchful eye on Goldibanne and her pretentious display. Neither did Claire and her rifle in the background escape his notice, as he made it clear that he was ready for her attack. Long black hair wreathed about his chest and back as clawed white hands leveled his swords toward Goldibanne. He wasn't here to assault the compound, but he wasn't going to be taken prisoner either. 

Sol showed up, casually late in the middle of a tense stand off. Flippantly, he mocked the others and took out a cigarette. Mithias glanced at him, swords still poised, and regarded him as the most sane character he had seen there yet. Exhaling over pursed lips, the vampire looked again at the doll mage that gleefully anticipated a slaughter. He would make one last attempt to communicate with this Blackwood Circus and said one word, "Lydia."