Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"May the gods have pity on us, The Death Dealer? She could be in this room right now and we wouldn't have any idea!" this cry for help fell on unresponsive ears, many people, men and women, of various species and each dressed in rather colourful robes stood around a circular table in a room lit solely by mana lights.

A state of the art construction, utilising the knowledge of many fields of magic, it was supposedly intruder-proof, providing its occupants with perfect safety, imposing an oath of non-aggression on everyone within the room as well, the perfect meeting room possible.

Yet, none of the people inside appeared relaxed in the least, most, if not all of them had taken part in the illicit act of slave-buying, all to forward their various researches or for personal amusement, not a single one of them wasn't regretting their decisions sourly at the moment.

The Death Dealer was a big deal, some of them had even paid her for her services before, they were well aware of how very competent she was, and also how overkill she could be, you could point her a single, rather simple target for her, and instead of simply killing that target, she would also slaughter everyone and everything in the same building and surroundings as them.

When someone took time to shoot birds out of the sky, you knew that they had a serious problem, and judging by the volume of street animals somehow vanishing from existence since she had been confirmed to have showed up, she was having her fun.

"How are you doing Maelstroff?" one of them, dressed in bright green, asked the horned mage.

His eyes dim, skin pale and looking generally drained, the holy mage looked at the one that asked the question like he was an idiot.

"Bad" he shortly responded, shaking his head and forcing the people by his sides to shift their position to avoid getting hit by his horns.

"The dagger she stabbed me with is a real mage slayer, the moment it harmed me, my mana control went out of control, it poisoned my mana, not to mention that she was carving through my spells and destroying them with ease, honestly, I am only alive because I used an item and because she didn't actually try to stop me, I am certain she could have taken my head right off" Maelstroff wasn't seeing their odds very brightly, especially when he couldn't find any solution to his mana poisoning.

If he were to encounter The Death Dealer again, he would be incapable of using any magic to defend himself, faced with all of this, the other mages around the table sported grim expressions, they couldn't just hide away and hope for the storm to pass, this assassin wouldn't just leave them alone.

"Welp, good luck to you guys" one of them however, didn't seem very worried, he stood up from his seat and slapped his hands together.

"Where are you going Yriel?"

"Back home, unlike you guys, I have done nothing that could paint a target on my back, the trade of enslaved monster and beasts isn't the same as people, I am in the clear, so I will not remain near any of you and get myself killed, bye bye" Yriel, a mage dressed in an obnoxiously bright yellow robe waved them off and exited the room without any hesitation.

They all looked at one another, expecting someone to come up with a good idea.

Soon enough, with no one proposing anything a few other of the mages present left the room, after all, it wasn't certain that The Death Dealer knew every single person guilty of funnelling money into the slave trade.

She couldn't know every single thing.

"Huh, maybe we could request help from the royal guards?

The original order may have come from the king, but I doubt he was envisioning one of his nobles to employ the mad dog of the Fin-Limier Assassins, she is a highly wanted criminal, if he can just hold out long enough, we could receive the assistance of Shieldmaster Bough and Halbardier Pierre-Ornée" Maelstroff, sounding rather lethargic, was actually the first one to come up with an actually good idea.

"How does she compare to the royal guards however? I haven't heard of any target she wasn't capable of slaying, no one ever spoke of surviving having a hit placed on them and then being hunted down by The Death Dealer" only lucky bystanders had gotten to witness her at work, though none could recall her face, neither Maelstroff, her identity seemed to be protected by some sort of ability or spell.

"It is worth the try…"

"Indeed, although Bough is inferior to me in a matter of speed, he is impossible for me to scratch, Pierre-Ornée, he is definitely stronger than me, I don't stand a chance"

"Reall- Wait what?" all of them turned to see the misshapen mass of a darkness with two feet up on the table, munching on some sort of sandwich bursting with ingredients.

"..." they all looked straight at the assassin, a sinister, yet very smug smile etched on her face as she casually put the sandwich away inside of her cloak.

"Maybe we could convince you with a higher sum of money?" as if walking on eggshells, one of them made an offer, whilst the holy mage eyed another item hidden around his neck, he had one other of such objects.

Maelstroff was rather serious concerning his safety after all, but it wasn't that odd of a personality trait for mages to have, he debated when to use it up until the moment his hands fell off.

The round table was flipped up in the air, and hacked away until it exploded into a shower of splinters, a few spells were fired but unlike before, The Death Dealer wasn't aiming to have anyone lead her anywhere, in an instant, limbs were sent flailing against the walls and ceiling, heads rolled to the ground and bodies collapsed, the entire room painted red.

The assassin, having slayed everyone within reach, took off her cloak and laid down in the growing puddle of blood, swinging her arms and legs, a peaceful look on her face as she created what would be called a blood angel on the ground.