>>5185419>>5185009>>5185021>>5185285“The Inquisssition is coming for you, right now,” you say, radiating a quiet fury, “And I cannot let them question you.”
“W-wait! Stay back! I’ll kill you!”
>19You ay be badly wounded, but you are also a trained Infiltrator—not PRIMARILY combatant, but certainly educate din such arts. Hawksong ahs only honed your abilities. And Bianchi? Bianchi is an out-of-shape nobleman with back and leg injuries, wielding a weapon more designed for concealment and surprise than effectiveness.
<WANT: 18>
It takes but seconds of work with some succubus-manifested claws to shred him to ribbons, and consuming his fleeing soul is almost enough to make up for the expenditure of energy in the brief scuffle.
<Bloodlust trait>
The easy killing is not quite enough to sate your need for retributive violence, however. You rip the sword-cane from your abdomen and drive it into him, again and again and again, perforating his face and chest beyond recognizability. Only when his lifeblood is pooling out in every direction do you look up and see a servant-girl staring at you from the doorway, silently mouthing a scream that cannot quite escape her lips.
Irinnile laughs nervously, a little hysterically even.
‘It’s fine,’ you say grimly. ‘I can fix this.’
The servant girl barely begins to shriek before an extended claw pierces her skull, and with another few hacks of your claws you separate head from body. These people all saw your face, after all. Every single servant in Bianchi’s home must die—and you set about inflicting exactly this.
You topple candle-sconces, spilling flame out not carpets and the library of books as you go—it’s harmless to you, but it boxes in your prey. One by one, you teach these humans why you are nightmare to them—a Reptilian demon, a monstrous reminder of the Age of Scales which fell away, but will rise again. Caged by flames, they fall to you one after another, as smoke and blood cloud your every sense—sight, smell, taste, until the roar of the flames fills even your hearing.
You scream in glorious revelry as the last guard falls beneath your wrath.
