A group of seven people sat around a table inside an unknown building basement. A man clad in black, sitting in the leader's position had a large serpent tattoo drawn on his hood, whereas the rest were in similar black attire except that smaller tattoos were covering their backs.
"How are the preparation for the mission, Rattler?" The leader of the group asked.
"We are preparing for it, Boss," Rattler answered. "As per the information mentioned in that file, the activities on the roads have increased. Not very long, and the meeting will be arranged. We will strike as per your orders."
"How are the preparations at Cobra and Medusa's hand." Asked the large serpent-tattooed man.
"Their recent reports have not arrived yet, Boss, but they were making good progress, the last time I heard from them," Rattler responded.
The man looked at the five other guests sitting around the table, "I have passed the orders to Dragon and Viper, they will begin the operation starting today. I won't be accepting any error this time. Invest every bit of yourselves in the market. I want a monopoly of the Blue Hill markets."
"We are very happy, Sir Naga, that you have chosen us to serve you," one of the older traders answered. "My friends and I have made so much over time, especially with this security that you have provided, we would do anything to maintain the deal," he finished with a bow.
"That is more like it," smiled Naga at the flattery.
//////////
The muffled thuds of the horses' hooves resonated through the forest, creating a soft and rhythmic echo amidst the tranquil, leafy surroundings. The caravan moved down the road in the forest, causing dust and rubble to rise and dance with the wind.
The caravan's guards on the horses galloped, scouting the path ahead. A few moved with the caravan in a neat defensive formation. "Even if what you are saying is right, there is no way the bandits would loot on this route. It is closest to the city," suggested the head guard.
"It is a very precious trade, so I don't want to take the risk. Besides, the guild leader was also threatened to pay the securities or else...," Caravan Master stopped and gulped from a refreshment in his glass.
As the caravan was on its way to their destination, a large number of cloaked bandits on their horses galloped in their direction from a distance.
"Leader, the path ahead is blocked by a large tree," a scout reported to his leader. "It will take some time to clear the path, until...," Before he could finish, the Caravan Master interjected, "The bandits!"
"Go!" snapped the leader, " Call everyone to return immediately."
The scout hit the saddles, and the horse galloped in the direction he had just returned from.
"Everyone on guard!" the leader unsheathed his great sword. Following his orders the guards took on the defensive formation.
Wooosh!
Arrows streaked through the air, marking the aims, they pierced through the cheap leather armor guarding the front part of the guards.
A dozen soldiers fell to the ground without making a sound as blood gushed out of their half-open mouths. Their leader finding the situation precarious turned around and began to escape along with the remaining guards.
A large group of horses appeared, galloping at full speed in the caravan's direction. Reinforcements!, blurted the leader of the guards. He became ecstatic on finding a relief.
"It's no reinforcement," a man among the guards said with terror in his voice. "that is the Python, the man who destroyed Moonlight guild. He is a beast." the man turned around and rushed back in the caravan's direction, soon followed by the rest.
It was not until they found themselves surrounded that despair took over them and the entire caravan began to weep, cry, and beg for mercy.
Bang!
With a loud smash, Python, the leader, a huge man with a bull-like physique, struck a man with his humongous hammer into meat paste, fear spread among the onlookers as Python made his way towards the caravan master.
"We made a mistake, Mister," shivered the Caravan Master. "We will pay double the payment you asked for, please forgive us this time."
"What payment are you talking about, you old hag."
"The payment...," the Caravan Master took a pause, thought in an instant, "you are not here for the remunerations. Who are you?"
"I am the death god!" with the bladed side of his hammer, Python beheaded the old trader.
Python had a black serpent on his bald head. He turned around and marched towards the leader of the guards.
"You were not supposed to be working for him, but for me." Python raised his weapon.
"I am willing...."
Before the leader could say anymore his head fell to the ground.
A strong stench of charred wood and blood assaulted the nostrils of the scouting group, smoke rose in the distance, as they were on their way to the caravan. Realizing the urgency ahead, the scouting captain roared, "Faster fellows!"
"O My God!" Gasped one of the scout members when they arrived on the scene.
The scene before them was a clear massacre. The leader and Caravan Master's heads were missing, no guard or horse had survived the attack, and their bodies were badly mutilated. The rest had burned to the ground.
The forest fell silent as the fire dwindled, and smoke dispersed in the air.
A sparrow whistled in the sky, taking round trips around a group that was stationed in the forest.
"A massage, Python." A man pointed to a bird in the sky that constantly whistled.
"A message from the headquarters," responded Python. "The bird is a smart one, isn't it."
"Sure is."
Python was reading a message as the sparrow sat on his shoulder feeding from Python's other hand.
"It is a callback message, crow. I will be heading back, something big is planned in the capital. Take care of the matters here for a while." Python stood up, scaring the bird that flew back into the sky, lost in a thought.