The Slayer

With careful strides, both men delved into the light-deprived corridor. All that was heard were the echoes of Damian's boorish footsteps, while Finn tried to focus on anything else, even the most subtle breathing, if he could. 

But, it was eerily quiet, even more ominously dark in the corridor as there was a complete absence of torches on the walls now. It went on for some time, through twists and turns of the dungeon, yet there were no signs of monsters, let alone another person. 

'It's too quiet,' Finn thought. 

Just as it crossed his mind, he noticed something while leading the way: a doorway at the end of the dark corridor, left slightly cracked, though with some light peeking out of it. 

"That's…" Damian said hesitantly, following with an audible, nervous gulp. 

"Let's go," Finn whispered, quietly approaching the doorway. 

As he stepped in front of the door, he kept his blade readied, tightly gripping the handle. He slowly pushed against the doorway while quietly entering. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low, blue light that was in the dim room. 

It was a chamber similar to that that displayed creatures encased in translucent cubes, though appearing much grand in scale with pillars of marble that ran perpendicular towards the end of the room. 

In Finn's mind, this would unmistakably be the lair of the boss overseeing the dungeon, though something inside of him told him that wasn't the case any longer. 

"See anything?" Damian asked quietly, walking in behind him with his axe ready to go. 

Finn focused on what he saw trailing up the silver carpet that ran along the ivory tiles; a path of blood led to quartz steps. At the end of it, he saw something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand–

"That's him," Finn said. 

"What? Who–" Damian began to ask before assuredly noticing it himself. 

Slumped on the steps across the lavish, dim chamber was another person, wearing a dark-black uniform and a hood, wielding a pair of knives in their bloodied hands. It only took one look for Finn to recognize the man by his attire and weaponry; an assassin–just like him. 

"Wait, is that…" Damian realized. 

"That's the one who threw that knife at me," Finn answered in a whisper, now even more wary as he leaned down somewhat, keeping his dagger ready. "Something got to him before we did." 

It was the state of the body that left Finn unnerved; a massive gash was left through their left shoulder down through their stomach, leaving them nearly split in two. 

"The Boss? You said there's supposed to be a boss in a place like this before, right?" Damian asked, looking around nervously with bated breath. 

"No, I don't think so," Finn answered truthfully. 

As both men stood there, cautiously waiting for whatever was responsible for the death of the other, footsteps echoed against the marble interior. 

Finn watched as a shadow peeked from behind the pillar nearest to the bloodstained steps before a figure revealed itself. 

"Was this your prey? Sorry, but he walked right in here–like a fly into a spider's webbing," a masculine voice spoke with an unnerving calm. 

An initial look left Finn wondering if the one he looked at was human or otherwise, though he realized a second later that it was indeed a person. The confusion came from the man's unnaturally pale skin, paired with a lack of eyebrows, accentuating his dilated, pearly black eyes. 

In addition, the stranger was tall and slender, wearing a long, white trench coat while carrying a foreign blade far too large to be normal. 

'An ōdachi. That means this guy's class must be a "Slayer"--shit,' Finn recognized. 

The lengthy sword held in the strange man's hand dripped with fresh blood, not taking much of an assumption as to who it came from. 

"What should we do here? This guy…he's trouble," Damian whispered to the assassin, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. 

Finn didn't answer right away, instead trying to discover whatever information he could as he squinted at the creepy man across the chamber. 

["Sleuth Status"] 

[...Assessing information about [???]...]

[Name: Raven] 

[Age: ???] 

[Designated Class: Slayer] 

[Level: ???] 

As Finn feared, he failed to gain any meaningful information through using ["Sleuth Status"], only discovering the name of the eerie figure. 

The slender man of long, straight hair of a black shade grinned, staring straight at Finn as if sensing his sleuthing, "You just did something rather rude, didn't you?" Raven accused. 

There seemed to be a complete lack of fear from the man wielding the blade that dripped with blood, facing both of them with a calm smile perched on his lips. Yet, even as calm as he seemed, both Finn and Damian felt that there was nothing but malice oozing off of the stranger. 

"Did you hide your status on purpose?" Finn asked, wiping the sweat from his chin as he could hear his heart beating in his ears. 

Raven seemed amused by the question, scratching behind his ear without a trace of concern as he answered, "I learned that cautious people tend to read my status when confronted. Once they see my level, they tend to flee–that's no fun. So, I decided to hide it. Tell me, knowing that, will you try to run?" 

The playful words from the abnormally lengthy individual confirmed it for Finn; the intent was nothing less than homicidal. 

Damian seemed particularly upset by what was said, stepping closer as a fume of anger was wielded by the warrior, "--The way you're talking, it sounds like you've killed more than just one. In a situation like this, where people are dying left and right to these monsters, you're doing something like that? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"It's precisely because of a situation like this," Raven answered with a grin, lifting his eastern blade as he pointed it towards the two. "Neither of you have realized, have you? The fastest way to level up, to become stronger–it's to kill others!" 

It was just an excuse; both Finn and Damian saw straight through those words. Perhaps there was some truth to it, but there was no mistaking that twisted expression contorted on the killer's face–

'He enjoys it–as simple as that; this guy is a complete lunatic,' Finn thought. 

'A real piece of shit,' Damian thought.