Follow the nose. That was the sole directive Sly had set for himself once he broke away from his allies. It had never failed him in the past, and he knew exactly what that smell meant. Blood, steel and acid - an uncommon combination, and not one that was at home in any civilian context. One could have chalked it up to the zombies, but they didn't seem to have any metal on them, and the specific type of acid was all too familiar. He was in town, and right on schedule, too.

"Hopefully, I can ambush him before he sees me..." Sly mused, focusing on blazing his path forward with minimal attention paid to the zombies around him. He had his ways of staying hidden, after all. "Heh. Then I'll have really won the raffle."

He chuckled at his own little pun that nobody else heard or understood, and continued skulking through the town, his back pressed against the walls as he kept his movements and breathing to a minimum. He didn't make a sound as he took in the scents of the air around him, following the one he needed so he could close in on his mark.

But, alas, he felt his olfactory powers quickly become overwhelmed the moment he stepped into an alleyway, as the scent he had been following became placed with an explosive fragrance of...peaches and vanilla.

"Gah! Perfume! My one weakness..."

It was almost aggressive, and made Sly wonder if his nemesis had deployed some kind of stink bomb to throw him off. Disoriented, he first covered his face, holding his breath before he drew a pair of daggers, stepping forward and looking behind him to make sure nobody was going to ambush him. But then he heard the rapid sound of footsteps in front of him, and he quickly turned back around-

"Ah!"

Only for something - or someone to speed into him, colliding with him and knocking him to the ground. "Alright, who's there?" he asked, keeping a tight grip on his blades and preparing to spring up and enter a fighting stance, but he paused that train of thought once he saw who was there - a positively red woman.

https://youtu.be/tyrdJ8Vm3Nc

Her skin was what looked to be an incredibly ruddy tan, and her hair was blood-red, darker than Ashbel's and tied in a short ponytail. Her clothing was also partially red; that being her tunic and boots, though her trousers and belt were brown like her eyes. Though her clothing was baggy, he could make out a somewhat fit build with those eyes of his - all the better for wielding that bow on her back. He tilted his head, reminding himself not to get distracted by this adorable stranger.

"Well, hello there." he smiled, changing his tune to a less irritated one and waving at her - albeit not letting go of his dagger. As he spoke, he noticed nervousness in her eyes, and cleared his throat. "Look, I'm not gonna-"

"I'm sorry!" the woman blurted out, raising her hands as if to defend herself from a threat that he wasn't quite sure he'd established yet. "I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"I...don't doubt that." Sly raised an eyebrow, unsure how to feel about this. "Look, I-"

"I know this looks bad, really! But I was...running!" she exclaimed, her face developing an even darker red tint. "I saw those monsters! A-And the White Tigers! Not to mention a dragon!"

"Woah, slow down, a dragon?" Sly stared at her, deciding rather quickly that he didn't believe it. "Damn, either the Deliverance is stronger than I thought, or Sully's pulling out stops I didn't even know he had."

"U-Uh, I don't know who either of those are..." the woman cleared her throat, scrambling to her feet as Sly also stood up, his demeanour more composed. He noticed her eyes darting all over the place, focusing on everything but him as she spoke. "But, again...sorry for inconveniencing you."

"I'm not mad about you bumping into me..." Sly shook his head, placing a hand on his hip. "If anything, the main thing on my mind is all that perfume you're wearing. It's very...strong."

"Huh? I don't wear perfume..." she tilted her head before suddenly realising what he was talking about. "Oh! Sorry...that's my natural scent."

"You naturally smell like a peach cobbler?" Sly eyed her closely. "Are you a baker?"

"No, sorry..." she shook her head. "I'm a nymph."

"A nymph...one of those nature fairies, right?" Sly asked, earning an enthusiastic nod from the red woman. "Do all nymphs smell like that, then?"

"Not exactly. It varies with the individual, and it depends on the type of nymph." she explained helpfully. "I'm an aura - a breeze nymph - so I'd say I got lucky!"

She smiled proudly at that, and Sly nodded slowly, taking his eyes off her to make sure nobody was watching them. "It's a pretty nice smell, all things considered." he said, causing her to smile a little more. "Awfully strong, though. Completely messed up my trail."

"Oh! I'm so sorry about that!" she bowed her head in shame. "If I'd known you were looking for something, I'd never have held you up, honest!"

"I believe you, okay?" Sly chuckled. It wasn't like Sully to involve other people in their feud except as collateral or human shields. He smiled at the woman, clearing his throat. "If you're really sorry, you can help me out."

"Of course! I'll do anything you ask!" she nodded quickly, and at that the thief raised an eyebrow.

"Even if I told you to empty your wallet for me, you'd do it?"

She paused for a while, pondering about that, before looking at him, her hands wandering to her pockets. "...may I please keep a few embers, sir? I have yet to eat today..."

"Keep them all. I'm after two specific things." Sly responded. "First of all, what's your name? We've been talking all this time, but I don't have it yet."

"Oh. I can tell you that!" the woman smiled with a quick nod. "My name's Calypso."

"Nice to meet you. You can call me Sly." he said. "Now, as for my second question...I'm looking for someone, and I'm wondering if you've seen him."

"Hmm...well, I've seen people today," Calypso murmured, racking her brain for a helpful answer. "But I'm gonna need more information than that to go off..."

"Well, naturally." Sly chuckled quietly. "Long brown hair that's probably been tied up, purple eyes with a scar over the left, light skin - but darker than mine - and usually dressed in purple. Seen anyone like that?"

"Oh, I have! He was leading the White Tigers!" Calypso exclaimed. "He was wearing white, though..."

https://youtu.be/jpkeAQG6kQw

"...what?" Sly raised an eyebrow at that, taking in her words with an uneasy smile on his face. "Say that again."

"What, that he was wearing white?"

"No, no, the other part!"

"I...said he was leading a group of White Tigers."

"Hahaha, is that so?" Sly forced his smile wider, his voice sounding somewhat more cheerful. He shook his head slowly, looking past Calypso and clenching his blades more tightly. "I always knew you were a lot of things, Sullivan, but this? Ohoho, this is something else."

"Are you okay?" Calypso asked, eyeing him worriedly.

"I've never been better!" Sly grinned madly, stepping forward past the nymph. "Come on, Calypso, why don't you show me where you found this guy?"

"U-Uh, right." Calypso nodded, moving to overtake him and gesturing for him to follow her lead, which he did, making sure to remain close by. He wasn't sure what to make of this woman, but for now, she seemed like an ally.

.........

Excellent. Just bloody fantastic. Of all days to order a patrol, it had to be Ine one where he had other plans. Plans that would have to be held off despite their obviously greater importance because the damned King couldn't pull his head out of his arse. It made him sick.

What was even more sickening was the incessant clinking and clanking of boots from the armoured, steel-for-brains legions behind him - even the fleeing civilians were less annoying with their screams. He himself was dressed in white clothes, much like they were, but forewent their heavier armour in exchange for a cloak and jacket. Feeling like he might go crazy if he didn't get to cause just trace amounts of discontent, he turned back to his troops, looking at them with violet eyes full of disaffection.

"Alright, team. I've been thinking about that last zombie horde, and it made me realise things." he began. "Specifically, things about this squad, and how pathetic each and every one of you is."

As he spoke, the miserable faces of his men didn't escape his notice, and a smug, toothy smirk crept onto his face. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Your fighting style's so homogenised, you're like a pack of dominos - knock one down, and the rest come toppling after."

"But Lance, this is how the King taught us to fight. We cannot stray from his holy word."

"Maybe the King's strong enough to get away with fighting so high-and-mighty, but you guys are just weak. Barely even fodder." the Lance shook his head slowly, raising a finger and wagging it tauntingly. "The first lesson in Mr. Lance's class, kids; efficiency!"

He turned around, spotting a civilian running around and snatching a ninja star from inside his cloak, it glowing a dark purple once it saw the light of day. Without wasting a movement, he threw it at the running man, slashing the side of his neck and causing him to stop in his tracks.

The pawns watched the flight of the shuriken as the man quickly hyperventilated before seeming to choke. In the space of a few seconds, his face turned purple, and it became clear that if he wasn't dealt with soon, he'd surely perish. They stared at their general in horror, who paced back and forth, that finger raised as if to continue the lecture. "Your swords are weak and largely unenchanted. If your honour wasn't rotting your brains, you'd know that there are poisons you can apply to accommodate for that, magical or otherwise." he explained. "Suddenly, a single graze can be deadly - and even if you're fighting someone strong, you can slow them down long enough to gain the upper hand."

"...sir, that was a human!"

"You accuse me of attacking my fellow man? You wound me, nameless pawn number fifteen." the Lance stopped his movements and turned to face the crowd. "A lot of demons can disguise themselves as humans, and a lot of them don't look all that different to begin with. As the heroes of justice we are, don't you think we shouldn't take any chances? That guy could've been a vampire or werewolf for all we know."

Silence filled the air, as everybody seemed to doubt the words coming out of his mouth. Even the Lance himself knew he was spewing rubbish - but it wasn't like anyone could do anything about it. He was the smart one here, and the better-geared. His smirk returned to his face as he walked onward. His men followed behind him, albeit reluctantly, and somewhat fearfully.

He looked ahead, finding that the path ahead was mostly devoid of demons, humans and zombies alike. Sadly, that meant they were all either dead or hiding. Sighing, he continued his little stroll, listening to all the sounds nearby until he heard the sound of arrows piercing flesh, followed by screams behind him. Now, he knew his followers were little bitches, but the arrows were unexpected, so he turned around to see shining green arrows composed of what looked like concentrated wind magic sticking out of some of their necks, bleeding profusely while their brethren stared in shock. Then, without warning, he moved his head out of the way, narrowly avoiding a triad of throwing knives that flew closely past his face.

https://youtu.be/xZS8yJiZ4AA

Knives, huh? The Lance shook his head, pulling a shuriken out of his cloak and turning around where the knives had come from - a rooftop a couple of blocks away, with two figures on top of it - a red woman with a bow and a glowing green bowstring, and a pale assassin in a hooded blue cloak, throwing knives knitted between his fingers. He clenched his teeth as he stared at the blue-clad man, knowing it wasn't just any old killer.

He watched as the blue figure beckoned the red one to follow him, and the two ran in his direction, leaping across rooftops. The red one drew her bow, forming several green arrows and firing them at his men, who drew their swords to parry the incoming projectiles. Most of them succeeded, but a few more ended up biting the dust, collapsing to the ground as magical arrows pierced their necks.

As they drew closer, the man in blue leapt off the roof, hurling knives at the Lance, who threw a salvo of ninja stars to knock them out of the sky. The two figures landed before the Tigers, and while the pawns held their swords out towards the pair, the blue man switched to a pair of daggers and ignored them to rush towards the Lance.

"Sir, what's going on? I think we're under attack!"

The Lance ignored him, quickly clicking his heels together as rusted blades sprouted from the tips of his shoes. As Sly swung his daggers at him, the Lance raised his leg, meeting his blade with his own. The two of them clashed a few more times, trading acrobatic blow after blow with copious rotations until they pushed each other away, facing one another. The Lance's smirk returned, more crazed than before, and he held out his hands as if opening up for a hug.

"Well, well, well! I thought it smelt like bitch in here!" he declared. "Now I don't need to waste time looking for the source."

"If you smell shit everywhere you go, perhaps you ought to check your shoes." Sly calmly retorted, returning the smirk with one of his own and placing a hand on his hip. "How's it going, Sully? You seem to have made a few new friends over here. Good for you!"

At the word 'friends', Sully rolled his eyes, shaking his head slowly. "Oh, little Sylvester, acting so self-satisfied just because you got the drop on me one time - and with the help of your new fairy-bitch, too. Relish this moment - it must be the most impressive thing you've ever done."

Calypso frowned at that, remaining silent, while Sly stayed in relatively high spirits. "You're right. Crippling you over and over again isn't even remotely challenging, after all."

"Hey, uh, sir, who is this?"

"Just some weak demon who keeps bothering me." Sully shrugged flippantly, causing all of the Tigers to become on guard. Sly raised an eyebrow before pointing his dagger at him, causing him to raise his arms in mock defence.

"You know good and well I'm a human."

"Hey, it's your word against mine! And I'm sure they'd never trust the poisoned words of a lowly demon!"

Sly looked at the pawns, gauging their responses - and to his surprise, they didn't seem to know who to believe. Until he remembered that their leader was Sully - of course inspiring team loyalty and trust wouldn't be a strong point. Sully suddenly pointed at Calypso, who jumped a little in anxiety.

"Besides, he's cavorting around with this one, who if you sniff real closely, smells just like a peach pudding! And you know what they say about those nymphs!" he continued, which seemed to get more attention. "You're really gonna trust someone who can get along with those tricksters?"

"I-I'm not a trickster!" she protested, only to be drowned out by the protests of the Tigers, angrily yelling over her and beginning to march towards her.

"Silence, deceiver!"

"All your people do is toy with mankind!"

"Kill the monster! Lancea vult!"

Sully spread his arms out, basking in the permeating hatred with a sickly smirk, and stepped back away from Sly, who glared at him furiously. "You really are the lowest of the low, you know?"

"Sure! At least I'm not racist!" Sully replied shamelessly. "Let that be a lesson for her not to hang out in such dangerous company!"

"Why are you with these guys if you don't believe in their cause?"

"Can't be picky about where you get help from, little Sylvester!" Sully grinned, taking a bow and listening as the sounds of battle raging on occurred besides them. As he stood up, he held a pair of shurikens in his hands, looking at Sly with bloodlust in his twitching eyes. "Now, while she's dealing with that little inconvenience, let's take some time to catch up, old pal."