The Beast lunged ahead, aiming to use its body to crush Ji-Mon under its weight. Bathory noted his struggle when he was trying to evade the Toxin Dragon's slashes. Noting over his main magic, her first assumption was that he was expending energy in order to move his body faster. However, that conclusion ceased when she realized the command he gave to attack her from afar. Whatever he's operating on doesn't seem to follow the standard rules of Magic. Almost akin to Harvard's Monster Magic, it feels more ingrained rather than utilized, a passive effect to push on and worry about later than now. Thus, a new conclusion was made: He was holding something. Something, whether it was the talismans or the equipment, must be some sort of Artifact to provide the necessary energy to cast spells freely. That, or that his magic operates under the Artifact in question. Either way, she was able to piece together that the more damage she deals, the weaker the Artifact's hold gets. She doesn't need to kill him, he's already done that himself by modulating his body into a living zombie. All she needs to do is find and destroy the Artifact to shut down the dead.
In a way, she's a bit impressed at how his philosophy impacted her. In one dramatic change, she was able to evolve and find the very weakness in his strength. She shakes her head and dismisses it upon realization. The last thing she wanted was give praise to the enemy in such mindset. She felt almost repulsed that the idea of growing through such a fantasy-like thought of 'living in death' would even work. She grounded herself back to reality as she'd let the talons of the Dragon rip and tear, hoping to scoop out or stab into the Artifact. Through the wreckage, however, she'd watch as the Dragon was being held back. Albeit with a weaker build, it was enough to ensure it can't advance anymore. She'd assume that his magic must've kicked in again, quickly trying to detox the body using her blood. When the dust cleared, however, she'd see a miraculous sight: Ji-Mon holding the dragon by its Talons, standing his ground, his Talisman ripped in two, his eyes and mouth properly exposed, panting heavily as he stared down his own demise. "You survived??!" She'd question. Even if he was partly a Zombie, his vitals would've been destroyed.
That was when the dust cleared more and she'd see what was laying on the ground: His own organs, covered with the destroyed talismans, the pieces of paper that once bound into his body. Her eyes widened as he commits himself fully to his own magic, his strength rising as the heat grew colder, slowly feeding every ounce of energy into the Artifact, visible through his shoulder: The Black Candle. "I told you... This is its purpose... To live... is to die... Is to live." He coughed up a hefty amount of blood as he'd push it further and further, eventually pinning it into the castle's walls, letting it be struck back by another force, one more potent than before.
The attack on the opposite end. The blizzard of frost to freeze the remaining dragons.
"TARO-" She'd scream, but her voice was muffled away by the cold, barraged and bound by her own beast, her mouth agape, forcing herself to break off and suffer its frostbite if she wished to continue. Because of the cold hitting her temperature, her energy was crippled as a result, forced to focus on heating herself up if she wishes to operate properly. Ji-Mon knew this, and rushed ahead, climbing up the dragon's back, aiming to sneak attack her by the neck. One brutal swing was enough to push back the Necromancer, the rubble quickly falling atop of him, but his body remained unfazed. Unabashed. As if the stone was merely cloth draped over his now rotting skin. "Damn that DRAGON!! Of COURSE the one attack does collateral. If he doesn't succeed in his battle with those two-" her words were dropped as Ji-Mon went for a quick strike, his arm lunged in order to try and reach for her neck, aiming to tear out the artery that would let her speak. Bathory would catch this arm, but as she did, she'd noticed it was already detached, operating in rigor mortis, a squelching sound made from the stump. She'd toss the arm aside, both for distance and to safely see what was making such noises.
It was his cells. They mutated. They're growing freely.
SHIKK!!!
A direct hit to her leg, carving a hefty wound down by another arm, as the body and head laughed away, letting the two arms twitch themselves back to the wielder. "Interesting! Seems I'm at the state where my bodies worn down like paper! One wrong tug, and it comes clean off!" His laughter was muddled with more coughs of blood, but was able to elaborate further as he'd try to get himself out of the rubble, splitting his body in half by the process. Doing so would showcase the undead cells invade and fester, quickly acting as a mold to block off any wounds or excess bleeding dealt to it. "I've heard that during rigor mortis, the body still acts 'alive.' It twitches and spasms, the nerves being shot over and over as the last signals before complete shutdown. Brain works weird when it comes to the dead, really..."
"So you're turning MORE into a corpse. I take it the magic resting in you is fleeting as well? Either that, or your Artifact is in complete shambles, considering the hefty burial you found yourself in."
"Hehe... You got me there, I'll admit it. Yeah, the Candle's on its last legs. That doesn't mean I'm going out, though! I believe I have a way to keep it lit and be permanent on my own body."
"HAH! As if! Go on then, entertain me this thought. I'll leave this as your last request and seppuku for wasting my time and efforts. You've already worn me down enough as it is with your semi-immortality. The least you could do is die by your own hand to regain some semblance of self-respect."