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Headed by a Snake

Chapter 857 When We Arrive In Hell
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⟬ Back on Moon Crescent Isle... ⟭

Zhevra of Blackrot Wound slid down her tree, still fuming in anger.

Imperia was a fool.

She was dead.

And for what? Following her heart?

Her murderer, Krysaos, was also dead-- as was inevitable.

...Her only regret in not killing him sooner.

"You'z a real good shot with 'at--"

In an instant, Zhevra's dagger was pressed up against Stickyfingers' throat.

"Eh?" The Corallidus held his hands up, "What's 'is about? Wasn't we s'pposed ta be partners, Zhev?"

"Do not be confused," Zhevra angled her blade downward, shoving the man's chest with the back of her hand.

"I only have *one* partner," She said in a low voice. "*You* are accomplice."

It was almost insulting.

Zhevra was an Assassin... and she had allowed herself to be caught unaware by a man from a lower-tier Class.

"Earlier..." Stickyfingers smiled with his eyes, "Din'chu coll me-- wot was it... Comrade?"

"That was before," Zhevra spat, "Now, everything... everything is..."

The Corallidus broke into a wicked grin, "F*cked?"

...Zhevra shot Stickyfingers a look of strong discontent-- though her comrade's judgment was accurate.

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She turned to walk away, sheathing her dagger and repositioning her slung rifle on her back.

The Corallidus followed her, his footsteps quiet-- but not perfectly so. Zhevra's mood lifted very slightly to know that her senses were fine as long as kept vigilant.

"Oh, come on. Don't feel baaaad, Zhev~" Stickyfingers whined... "Da elfy got what was comin' to her."

...Zhevra took a deep breath.

She was still upset... very upset. However, she had to be realistic.

"Yes," She sighed. "Perhaps... you are right."

Imperia had taken a critical injury, well beyond what modern magics could heal.

She could not be returned to life.

...And she was already avenged.

There was nothing more Zhevra could do...

"Princess Imperia's death may be deserved... but..."

The hulking Corallidus lowered his body to look at her eye-to-eye... "Oi? What's wrooOong? Li'ul minnow caught yer toOngue?"

Zhevra reflexively looked away.

Despite the fact that she could kill Stickyfingers with a single bullet, he still had a naturally impressive physique... and an intimidating demeanor.

It was partially why she was attracted to him.

Zhevra took out a clean cloth to wipe the Princess' face, "Princess Imperia is... or was... like me in past..."

As gentle as a mother, she closed the girl's eyelids... "She only needed... guidance-- guidance I could have given to her."

"'At so?" Stickyfingers scratched the back of his head, making the sound of stones scraping together, "Looks like you w's jus' a teensy bit too late-- nuffin' ta beat yerself up about, doh?"

"Tch," Zhevra scoffed as she turned to glare. "Death comes for us all... even you, Corallidus."

"Ahhhh hahaha," Stickyfingers chuckled as if her words were a funny joke. "Don't you worry yer li'ul 'orned 'ead bout me, Zhev.

"I'z ain't scared o' deff.

"Ma'ter of fact, when me an' da boys-- we get to da seven 'ells, we'z gonna sail 'eir black oceans, lootin' an murderin' every 'orned boy and girlie we c'n find!"

"You... you are serious?" Zhevra let out an unwomanly snort.

Stickyfingers' blatant disregard for eternal damnation in the Realms beyond was nothing short of ridiculous. According to the histories of the mercenary companies in Bael Turath, their military doctrine originated in the various hells.

The afterlife... would not be easy for her pale accomplice... or for herself.

Zhevra stood up, glancing up to the moon watching over them... "Then perhaps... I am more human than you are... Comrade."

She turned to face Stickyfingers with a light smile, "Unlike you, I *do* fear death... as inevitable as it may be."

"Ehe?" The Corallidus crossed his arms, "Really, Zhev? Y'know da bowf of us stick to da shadows... but I didn't fink 'o you as da cowardly type."

"There are many great things to fear-- some, more than death," Zhevra shook her head. "For example: my employer."

"Ah, yeah, yeahhhh..." Stickyfingers nodded, "Da... da Wizard, innit?"

"Where did you hear that name?" Zhevra narrowed her eyes.

The massive Corallidus pointed a stony finger... at her.

...Oh.

"You'z got a pretty shite mem'ry fer 'avin' a head so big," He teased.

"These are *horns*," Zhevra scowled.

She wanted to beat herself for nearly losing her temper over something that was entirely her fault.

...She really talked too much during sex.

"Return to your crew, Comrade," Zhevra waved her long dagger. "Unless you truly wish to watching me. Now I am cutting your former Captain's head."

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"E'z dead, y'know," Stickyfingers shrugged. "Da Cap'n's a 'umie... can't live wif a hole in his 'ead... and'n iz chest, too."

"I am aware," Zhevra scowled. "Is there problem?"

"Oh, by all means, girlie," The Coral Boy made no motion to leave. "Feel freEEe~"

Zhevra shook her head.

Fine. If the psychotic fool wanted to stay, then so be it.

Perhaps the Corallidus was stubborn.

...Perhaps he somehow understood that she did not actually want to be alone for the moment.

"I'z gonna be be roight 'eeere," The pale Corallidus grinned reassuringly.

"(Thank you,)" Zhevra whispered in her mother tongue.

"Ah, 'old on a tic," Stickyfingers grabbed the hatchet on his waist, "'Is might make fings easier for you? Might need bowf 'ands ta use it, doh."

"Both hands," Zhevra rolled her eyes, "You have seen me use *both* hands... and mouth.."

"An' let me see yer gun while yer goin' about it," Stickyfingers leered.

The look he gave... for a moment, Zhevra was insulted that it was given towards her weapon and not her body.

She cradled her customized Turathi rifle in her arms, "What makes you think I am stupid enough to let you handle lethal weapon?"

"'Cuz you fink I'm pretty?" Stickyfingers suggested innocently.

If he had eyelashes, the Coral Boy would have been fluttering them.

...Zhevra let out a deep sigh as she lifted the weapon sling up and over her head, careful not to let her horns catch on, "Do you even know how to use rifle?"

"Yeah, 'course I do," Stickyfingers took the hextech weapon with a surprising amount of reverence.

"In case you've forgot, Zhev, I'z a milit'ry professional," He explained. "You'z seen me an' da boyz wiv sharp and stabby impl'ments, but we'z trained in all manner of shooty weapons, too."

To prove his point, he racked the weapon back and snatched the ejected round out of the air.

"Ooh... was still loaded~"