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Wisteria’s mind wondered back to her life at the Academy. As far as she remembered, there weren’t any demons by the name of Corrin. That meant she could maintain her cover a little while longer…
“Hmp. Like things are ever that easy,” she grunted.

('Kay.)

Eventually, they reach the base of the mountain. "Keep your eyes peeled for anyone. Corrin is known to wear red and blue often, KU can be seen on the back of his cloak." Marth drew his sword, looking around.

Wisteria imagined the man described to her. She took out her knife and got into a defensive crouch from which she could still walk or run if need be.


(Who should spot the guy?)

(I'll let you spot him. The cursed man wears KU stuff, so show him no mercy )

The sounds of people could be heard a short distance away. Marth approached the sound slowly, keeping his blade ready to fly.

(Such a gentleman. )

Wisteria heard them, too, her muscles tensing. She peered into the fog, trying to make out the shapes of the ones talking. Since angels had heightened senses, she managed to make out a few undistinguished forms.

"Can you see anything?" Marth asked, fairly blinded by the fog. His hearing was above average, however his sight was not. He kept his sword ready, pointing it upwards.

Wisteria vaguely spotted a flash of blue with black lettering on it. “There!” she hissed quietly so they wouldn’t overhear her. “Corrin.”

"...Not only does the bastard enslave people, but he also supports KU. Talk about the most evil combination in the land..." Marth said with much disgust. He slowly and quietly approached the area.

(Kansas State all day everyday.)

Not understanding most of what Marth said, the angel advanced, watching her footing so as not to alert the men to their approach.

( )

"Just take out the ones near Corrin..." Marth whispered, moving closer to the man.

Nodding, Wisteria broke off to the side, moving so that Marth had a clear view of their target. She prepared smaller knives, kunai, to throw at the men’s necks. The angel waited for his signal.

Marth gave her the signal, rushing towards Corrin, his sword shined a deep purple, thrusting it forward, it pierced the man's armor, leaving him open to Wisteria's attack. The man's armor was a deeper red now.

She tossed the blades, not needing to take time and aim. The kunai struck true, embedding into each man’s throat. As they were flying through the air, Wisteria had run toward them. By the time they had struck, she was beside Corrin. In her hand was her knife, which she used to slit his throat while covering his mouth to keep him from yelling out.

Their surprise attack proved to be too much for the slavers. Marth quickly pulled his sword out, causing Corrin to bleed out along with his men. "Now, let's just get the slaves back to the town. You really are an amazing fighter, Wisteria."

Her face remained blank while she slipped her blades back, the kunai having been concealed. “We should be ready in case this guy has more goons watching the slaves.”

By her posture, it was clear she was familiar with this sort of thing. And, in the very back, hidden in the depths of her sharp eyes, there was a glint of enjoyment.

"You're right." Marth smirked, wiping the blood off his sword, "There's nothing like watching your opponent's life drain away...the trickling of warm blood on the blade is a wonderful feeling." The blue haired mercenary sounded insane.

Her gaze flicked over him for a fraction of a second before she ran toward the sound of heavy chains scraping along the ground.

Wisteria hated to admit it, but she lived for fighting. It was all she had trained for in life, to follow her parents' examples. Her father was an Archangel, and her mother a Kindly One, but not just any Kindly One, she was the Head of The Force.

Marth followed behind her, keeping his sword drawn just in case there were any left, Marth still had the bloodlust in his eyes, he clearly enjoyed killing. He wasn't evil, at least not entirely.

The pair went on, coming to a valley that dropped off four feet from the mountainside into a cavernous fall. People dressed in dirty rags and shackled with chains were being ushered onward by men holding whips or guns.

The scene was awful, but, sadly, it wasn't the worst the angel had witnessed in her life. Wisteria was disconnected from empathy due to five or more years of torture training she'd insisted on having.

(I gotta go, I will be back in about an hour, hopefully.)