Amara let out a yawn, covering her mouth with her left hand as she lowered her right arm, having just finished burning away the last remaining demon that had attacked her. The charred corpses of about a hundred demons surrounded her, their twisted forms still smoldering from her fiery assault. Their blackened skeletons lay in grotesque heaps, the acrid scent of burnt flesh lingering heavily in the air.
"Hah, just how many times do I have to burn all of you for you all to leave me alone?" she asked aloud, addressing the lifeless husks at her feet. Her voice echoed in the eerie silence of the aftermath. She crossed her arms, her gaze hardening as she surveyed the destruction. "I cannot believe filth like you are even remotely related to my mistress."
Suddenly, she felt a shift in the atmosphere, the mana returning to its natural state. Turning around, she looked up at the distant sky. From afar, she could see the blood-red clouds that had poured crimson rain giving way to the natural night sky. The storm was receding, revealing a canopy of stars twinkling overhead. "Looks like whatever situation was going on there resolved itself," she hummed to herself, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Now just to wait for... backup." She despised this part—needing backup. It was absolutely ridiculous! She should be tracking and chasing down Larkin and his bodyguards right now, and killing that blue-haired little brat, but no! She had to wait for backup instead, and that backup wasn't even one of her sisters. It was from that goddess-forsaken vampire! She let out a huff, trying to calm herself.
"Calm down, Amara. Your mistress told you to wait for backup. You should follow her orders as she knows best," she muttered to herself. To anyone watching, she would have appeared as a lunatic, which, truthfully, she was. Talking to herself amidst a sea of burnt demon corpses certainly didn't help her image.
Suddenly, she heard a flapping sound and turned to see an imp still alive, flying towards her with claws outstretched, ready to rip her apart. She sighed, raising her arm to burn the pathetic creature and put it out of its misery. But just as it got near her, a loud bang echoed through the forest, and the imp's head exploded, covering her in gore. She looked down at herself, her black dress now smeared with the filthy blood of a lowly demon, her eyes lighting up with anger.
Turning towards the direction of the loud bang, which originated from within the unburnt part of the forest, she outstretched her arm, conjuring a fireball. "You will pay for that!" she threatened.
"Don't actually fire that off, you fucking lunatic!" a scratchy voice called out from the forest. It was a voice she unfortunately recognized. A figure emerged from the trees into the clearing Amara had made.
"Why are you always so damn trigger-happy?" the figure asked as he came into view. He was a tall adult man, well, taller than Amara, with ghostly white hair and pale skin. His dark pupils contrasted sharply with his heavy eye bags. He wore a dark long coat draped around his shoulders, a plain white shirt, leather pants, and leather boots. His appearance was unsettling, almost spectral, yet there was an air of authority about him.
"Wight," Amara said, dismissing the fireball, her glare fixed on the man.
The man let out a sigh. "Could you, for the love of everything holy and unholy, call me by my actual name instead of what I am?" He put away the bone sniper he held, which burned away in his hands in green fire. "Come on, call me Cexir or Crow. Or maybe I should start calling you 'woman' instead of Amara?" He crossed his arms, giving her an annoyed look.
"I would call you by your name if you weren't the reason I'm covered in blood!" Amara shot back, pointing at him accusingly.
"Just burn it off, woman!" Cexir exclaimed, growing exasperated with her complaining.
Amara huffed. "Hmph, you're right, I should." Flames burst from her body, causing Cexir to jump back and fall to the ground.
"Do it while I'm not close to you! You know I'm weak to fire, right?" he shouted, shaking his fist at her.
Amara finished cleansing the blood off her body with fire, a satisfied smile on her face. "I know, that's why I did it, Crow. If you got destroyed from that, I could have written it off as an accident."
Cexir got up, dusting himself off while thinking, *Oh, I'm going to enjoy getting rid of you.* "So, where's the mark?" he asked, attempting to remain composed.
"Mark? I know you were assassin trash in life, but try to act more like an agent in undeath, please," Amara replied, her tone dripping with disdain.
Cexir clenched his jaw, his anger barely contained. *Oh, I'm going to kill you so hard that your entire bloodline is going to feel it!*
Amara let out another sigh. "Anyway, all you have to do is follow me and do everything I say, and we'll get to the target," she said, turning around and walking away.
"I really don't get your hate for me, but whatever. Lead on, I guess," Cexir muttered, following her while glaring at the back of her head. *I was going to give you a quick death, but now...* He licked his lips. *I'm going to eat you alive.*
No one other than his master and his fellow servants would ever find out if he did. He pictured it now, his right hand slipping into his coat pocket to feel the artifact given to him to kill Amara. He imagined standing over her as she desperately tried to fight back before he chomped her down, the very thought making him salivate. *Just a matter of time,* he thought to himself darkly.