Dren moved on the closest of the ambushers to get a proper head count. Balancing on a thick branch he managed to locate a total of six ambushers. Two assassins, a mage, an archer, and two defenders. Dren planned on killing the assassins first then the mage, followed by the archer while leaving the tanky defenders for last. They actually posed the least threat. Sharing his plan with Ren he started to move when the entire group shifted slightly. Tensing up believing they had noticed him he soon realized that wasn’t the case. Instead, someone was coming down the road. Dren squinted from his hiding place and eyed the person approaching. It looked to be a lone woman wearing solid black robes. A tangle of wild unkempt hair was poking from under a wide brimmed pointed hat that Dren thought just looked stupid. She moved with the aid of a gnarled and thorny staff while a heavy backpack slung over one shoulder made her slouch slightly. Even at a distance, he could see dark bags under her eyes standing out against her pale skin. While her appearance was odd enough, when he identified her his brow raised.

Human (N)

Class: Witch of Agony Level Seventeen

Profession: Fetish Maker Level Fifteen

‘A rare class and profession? With those levels, it is hard to tell. They would be way too low level if they had started out as a rare class. But too high if they already evolved. Or was their experience requirement so high that they were that slow to level? Either way, they could be trouble. Are they part of this group?’ Dren glanced to the nearest ambusher to gauge their reaction to the appearance. ‘Definitely not part of this group.’ The man near him eyed the approaching woman with naked hunger. ‘Were they here to ambush her and not me? Or is she just in the wrong place at the wrong time?’ His thoughts raced as he debated on what to do.

Glancing between the two groups he shrugged before whispering to Ren. “When they attack the woman. We kill them first. Then deal with her.” Dren didn’t know if they were after him or not, but he could settle any moral quandaries by just saying they were obviously not good people. As for the woman, well he guessed he’d see how things went. With a class called Witch of Agony, she probably wasn’t very nice either.

Ren nodded to him and they both settled back to wait. The woman didn’t seem in any hurry, practically dragging her feet as she moved slowly forward. The ambushers he could see were starting to fidget but still stayed hidden. Nearly twenty minutes later the woman was finally shuffling into position for the ambush. Dren and Ren watched as the men jumped out from their hiding places to surround the woman in a half circle. Their leader, one of the assassins, already spouting out a very generic and uninspired monologue. It was such cliche stuff, lots of menacing laughter and threatening innuendo, the kind of stuff a bandit in most stories not worthy of a name would spew at a lone female they had ganged up on. Thus, in Dren's mind, he just thought of them as Bandit A.

While the bandit's actions around the woman were as bad as the leaders, mostly threats, smears, and lots of leering. The woman’s reaction was only half what he expected. There was a look of slight disgust on her face but with it came a sense of bitter apathy that even the bandits noticed. Dren decided he would wait and see just what kind of power this Witch of Agony had.

As he watched the woman turned her head to eye each of the men, her strange apathy seeming to unsettle them. At least enough they hadn’t attacked yet, seeming like Dren to be unsure what this woman could do. To his surprise a moment later she let go of her staff, it fell and clattered on the road. The sound of it actually made more than one of the bandits jump. Before anyone else could act she started unlacing her robe at her neck with a sigh.

“Fine. Get it over with and then let me go. I don’t have anything worth stealing and I am not joining you. Just don’t kill me and I won’t resist.” Her voice was full of resignation and a severe lack of concern. Dren frowned at her reaction. It seemed to stun the bandits as well. Each of them just stood there while she started pulling the robe over her head. Several shared a look then one made a disgusting face as he boldly started for the woman with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we aren’t watching this.” Dren whispered to Ren and started moving. “Remember, save the last hit for me.”

Emerging from the woods he moved silently for the closet one, one of the two assassins. The woman had just finished pulling her robe over her head revealing she was wearing a filthy outfit of pre intergration clothing. Dren saw her eye flick to him, he kind of expected to see a flash of confusion on her face. Or fear, recognition, concern, or really any emotion. Instead, her face just remained apathetic and her eyes lifeless, even as she watched him grab the man, his hand covering their mouth. Then his blade coated in the black energy of Reaper skill slammed into his chest. Still, as he lowered the man her expression didn’t change at all. Even as she started unbuttoning her shirt to cheers and crude remarks. Then, her fingers paused and her lifeless eyes seemed to gain a spark.

Recognition flashed in those eyes. Dren paused at that, it wasn’t that she had just now recognized his actions, but almost as if she recognized him personally. Her hesitation seemed to anger the bandits. One stepped forward to slap her odd hat off her head, revealing her unkempt and unwashed hair. “Don’t get cold feet now bitch. Not if you want to live.” He sneered in her face then turned around to laugh while smirking to his allies. Just in time to see Dren kill the archer while the mage vanished as they were yanked up into a tree with barely a muffled whisper of a cry.

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“What the fuck?” The one looking at him was the second assassin and his reaction caused the remaining other two to turn around with him. Dren just grinned at them, his mask melding with his flesh to reveal it. What it produced was still a grin, but it was also something out of nightmares. Far too many teeth flashed against the black scale melded with his flesh. As the three bandits froze, Dren flung away the corpse of the archer. His mask sealing up he spoke in a voice that seemed more like a monster’s growl than words. “Just three more to go.” Then stepped forward.

Backpedaling the assassin shouted out for the defenders to attack before he bumped into the woman knocking her over. Stumbling over the woman he kicked her hard in the gut before finally managing to his balance. Just as he turned around a curse already on his lips for the woman that had almost tripped him, an explosion sent rippling waves of force and heat from behind him. A smoking body went flying past him to roll along the road. Eyes wide he turned to find the attacker pulling his dagger out of the throat of their strongest defender. With an annoyed look in his eyes. The masked monster tsked before his blade was coated in dark energy and slammed into the defender a second time. Dropping the man they spoke in that deep growl-like voice. “Making me attack twice. Annoying.”

Panicking his wild eyes darted around, landing on his groaning and charred companion before falling on the woman. He reached down and grabbed her by her hair before yanking her up. He didn’t even notice that despite being yanked up by her hair the woman didn’t scream, only reached up to hold her own hair and his hands to prevent her hair from being ripped out.

“Stay back or I’ll kill her.” His own dagger danced between waving at the approaching monster and darting to the woman’s pale neck.

The masked monster didn’t even look at him. “Don’t die on me, you idiot.” He snarled and walked past them to the charred defender. Again his blade turned black before silencing the man’s groans of agony as well as his life. Then he stood up and turned to face them. Between the dark scaled mask, the strange tattoos around his eyes, and the look of utter disgust the assassin felt their heart drop and their pants moisten.

“I can work for you!” He shouted while backing up, still dragging the woman by her hair and keeping her between them like a shield. “We have a camp. With loot. Killing people is a great way to get experience isn’t it.” He nodded as if he was right. “Plus you can have her.” He actually shook the small woman by her hair. “All for yourself. Credits too. Whatever you want.”

Dren just watched the man shuffling away from him while spouting tons of bullshit. But he was more curious about the look in the woman’s eye. Despite the fact, the assassin had nicked her neck and cheek several times with his wild waving. Or that she was being dragged along on her tip toes by her hair, he didn’t see more than a bit of mild annoyance in her expression. That and an intense stare that burned into him with some emotion he couldn’t describe. It wasn’t fear, anger, desperation, or anything else he would expect to see. It was almost fervor. What was up with this weird woman?

Dren looked up at the man as he continued to back up, not saying anything. A few more steps and he would be in range for Ren who waited patiently overhead in the trees. Yet, he suddenly stopped moving his words becoming garbled as he choked. With a clatter, the blade dropped to the ground and he let go of the woman as he clutched his own throat. Dren expected her to run away or maybe even dash towards him to get away from the man. Instead, she just took a small step to the side and looked down at her attacker as they collapsed to their knees. Both of their eyes were bulging out, the whites turning yellow rapidly and continuing to darken. While their tongue was so swollen it looked like a huge purple fleshy mass protruding from their mouth.

Dren was snapped out of his shock when he realized they were obviously dying as they clawed at their own throat, their eyes now so bulged out so much they were actually popping out of their sockets. With an angry growl, he shouted. “Don’t kill them.” He lunged forward his dagger turning black as he hissed out. “They're my kill.” The woman turned to glance at him but before she could do anything he was on the man, his dagger driving right into his forehead. Dren let out a sigh as he got the notification that Reaper had harvested another kill.

With all the bandits dead or captured he turned to the woman, his dagger still in hand. She just looked him in the eye with that same expression before looking him up and down seeming unphased by all the events. Dren frowned, he expected some sort of reaction. Maybe relief or panic, she had just been ambushed by a group of bandits with obviously less than friendly intentions. Then he glanced at the man he had just killed. He was going to die and Dren hadn’t seen any attacks or causes.

Now he looked at the woman, his eyes narrowing. She was definitely far more dangerous than those men had thought. “I see. You weren’t in any danger from trash like this were you? You could have killed them all any time you wanted, I guess.” It made sense. She was obviously a powerful rare class.

“No.” The woman spoke, her voice flat and unemotional. “My one offensive ability is a curse that requires touch and takes a long time to cast. I can cause it to trigger any time after I have cursed them though. So I expected I would have to wait while being raped by them before I could curse them all.” She looked up at him, her eyes had lost some of their fervor and were back to the almost lifeless apathetic look, even as she made such a sickening statement.

Dren just stared at her still too shocked by her blunt statement to process it. “You are the invader. The one that turned the Haven Lord into an undead monster?” Her tone was flat and unemotional just like any other time she talked. Dren tensed and prepared to attack when she spoke up again, emotion creeping into her voice for the first time. “Let me help you. Let me help you destroy this world.”

Confused Dren blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Why?” His confusion was clear in his tone even if his mask was still garbling his words to sound more like a growl.

At his question, her eyes regained their full and intense look of fervor and her voice carried not just a hint of emotion, but was filled with it. “This world deserves to be destroyed. That is my only wish.”