'Seven men, four gate guards, two palace knights, and a civilian. This'll be easy enough if I play my cards right.'
"I see seven people, one is a non combatant. How many do you want to take?"
"Hm, I'll let you handle this one Promised."
Hagan slightly glared at the blurry figure crouched beside him. The two were in an alleyway near the edge of the capital in the Branson Empire, who holds the most power in the continent of the Trial Hagan was in.
Hagan then threw something near his targets, two of whom heard it connect with the ground and went to investigate. Then, a scream was heard in an alley ahead of the two men. They glanced at each other and advanced towards the noise. Once they neared, they were able to make out a figure laying on the ground, unmoving.
They both ran towards it, but never reached it. Before they could, there was a sting that assaulted their necks. The two gate guards slowed their pace and felt a warm liquid running down their necks, one reached up to feel his neck but in the next moment, both of their heads toppled onto the ground with their bodies falling a second later.
The remaining men heard their comrades armor clattering on the stone street and quickly readied their swords. The palace knights commanded the gate guards to stay with the civilian as they went to check out the noise. As the knights neared the bodies, they quickly turned to look at the man and the gaurds only to see that they were all on the ground, with their heads all severed.
Before the knights could do anything, a mysterious figure appeared behind them. It was wearing a cloak that seemed to be made from impenetrable dragons scales, black layered armor with white trim,and a helmet with three slits running vertically that were drowned in darkness. There was a pale blue blade that ran red with blood quickly approaching the knights necks, by the time the men had realized what was happening, they were headless.
Hagan raised his blade and quickly brought it down, then stopped it abruptly as blood splattered across the ground, returning the sword to its pale blue hue. "One hundred thirty two. Plus seven."
"Very good Promised!" The blurry figure joined Hagan at his side and patted him on the shoulder. "Now, let's clean this up, shall we?"
Hagan sighed and picked up the corpses that littered the streets. He brought them to the alley and then, threw them in the shadows. A second later, horrific sounds flooded the alleyway. The tearing of flesh, the clatter of armor, the crunching of bones, the sound of slurping blood.
'I'm never going to get used to this.'
Hagan and the being traveled towards an inn a few blocks away. Some people have concerned and confused glances towards the pale boy walking down the street who seemed to be having a conversation with himself, some were used to the boys erratic behavior and would spread rumors about him, and some would ignore it and continue with their mundane lives.
Nobody knew who the boy was, where he was from, or why he was there. He gained a minaciousreputation, and through that reputation, he gained the nickname Profane Deviant.
In this particular day, the Deviant wasn't particularly in a good mood, and to make it worse, a group of street thugs approached him.