Myron had been about to berate and belittle Ibn Daud for allowing his conjured creature to get away from him, for scattering them through the Prim, and other incompetent buffoonery unbecoming a Practitioner of the Arts. However, watching dispassionately as a vampire rips out his opponent's throat, Myron philosophically chooses to forgo the narration.
The Vampires were a genuine concern. Their preternatural speed made it conceivable they could threaten him physically before he could work his sorcery.
With one hand, Myron pulls his ascot from his neck, allowing the scarf to flutter in the air. The fluttering became a shimmer, and the white cloth became a golden glow. A moment later, Myron was holding a large, phantasmal cobra. With a hiss, the cobra instantly sinks its fangs into the side of Myron's throat. Immediately, the cobra is joined by other serpents, also golden and insubstantial. They writhe about his body, hissing and biting him. There is a steely rasp as Myron draws his brass short sword.
Myron activates his Gift of Serpents and draws his sword.