Though their numbers stood greatly diminished by fire, falling, and the eventual collapse of the Wooden Bridge, the dozen smoldering inferi who had made it across the bridge relatively unscathed stumbled into the entrance hall of the castle. They would not give up until each and every inferius had been defeated. Or until their enchantress was dead.

A pair of inferi, still with flames flickering on their extremities, separated from the pack, bumping into walls and anything in their way. They were trying futilely to escape the fire on their own limbs.

The other ten inferi, no longer actively burning, lumbered towards the students fighting in the hall.