Corvus and Astra were not the only one betting on who was going to teach the man his manners so they could continue on with this supposed eting. Although for most it was just a bet with themselves. In fact, a few were already getting to the point of frustration that if no one did step in, they would do it themselves just to shut him up.
The low rumbling growl of the Lion escalated as he had yet another finger jabbed in his face. He bared his teeth as spit dripped from his salivating mouth. The human was right, he did want to taste this 'French food'. Yet before he got the chance, a hand clamped around that finger and wrenched it until it let out a sickening crunch.
The Frenchman's whining was quickly interrupted by a howling of pain as he clutched his hand in front of him. His finger was still extended, but it was twisted and pointing in three different directions. None of which were the direction fingers were supposed to point.
The one responsible for the finger rearrangent stepped out from behind him, revealing themselves to be a woman with horns sprouting from her forehead. They were not the sa horns as Corvus usually saw on dragons, instead they stood tall and straight. Combined with her deep crimson skin, her visage was one that every human in the room imdiately associated with a single word.
Demon. One who happened to be dressed like a classic Victorian made, for so reason.
The Frenchman stumbled back into the arms of his companions and pointed his twisted finger in the demon maids direction.
"D-did you see what she did?! Why are you just standing around you idiots! Kill her! I want her head!"
Surprisingly, it was the Chinese man who spoke up, "I wouldn't do that if I was you. I think you should just sit down and-"
"Shut up! I didn't for your opinion!" The French man's voice, sohow even more shrill than before, quickly cut off the Chinese leader, who simply let out a disappointed sigh. The French man ignored it, whirling around to his companions once more,
"Now kill her or I'll kill your useless asses and your entire families! NOW"
The companions looked at each other, sharing the sa resigned look, before summoning their weapons and marching towards the maid who seed completely unbothered by the entire situation.
She remained standing where she had appeared, hands clasped in front of her without a care, and a completely bored expression on her face.
As the pair approached, she gave them a tired look and finally spoke. Her tone was just as bored as her face.
"I strongly suggest you disregard those orders and take your seats. It is ti for us to begin. You will sit, or you will die."
The approaching companions glanced at each other again, sharing a look of obvious concern, yet a single look at their leader's scarlet face was enough to reignite their courage. They lunged forwards, one of them wielding a sword while the other swung a heavy war-hamr with a single hand.
Letting out a deep, disappointed sigh the Demon maid didn't move as they approached and when the sword ca flying towards her throat, she simply leaned back the smallest amount needed to avoid it.
Every attack by the pair hit nothing but air, which only further fuelled the burning rage of the french leader. He scread at them to do better, but no matter what they did nothing managed to even ruffle the lace of her outfit.
She moved with effortless grace, with emphasis on the effortless. Every ti she moved, it was just the barest amount possible. A single step, a slight lean. Even when she blocked the sword with her bare hand, she did so as if she was batting away a botherso fly.
Eventually, she let out another exasperated sigh and finally moved on the attack. She side stepped a crushing blow from the hamr and swept her hand upwards. With just swipe of her hand, the War-hamr twirled high into the air with the hand still gripping it's handle.
The disard warrior collapsed to his knees, letting out a cry of pain as he held the blood spurting stump where his hand used to be. Just watching it, Corvus' own hand throbbed in pain as if his body was rembering what it felt like to lose it... despite the fact this body had never lost it to begin with.
Rolling her eyes at the screaming, the demon maid caught the twirling war hamr as it fell and swiftly brought it down on the warriors head. Putting an end to his life and his screams at the sa ti.
The Swordsman's death was just as quick and rciless. The Demon maid let go of the hamr and stepped backwards, avoiding the growing puddle of blood as well as the sword cleaving through the space she had just occupied.
Another single swipe of her hand as she moved passed the swordsman, and his head plopped to the floor. Liberated from the restraints of his neck, as his body was quick to follow it to the ground.
The maid brushed herself off, as if the brutal executions - as such a thing couldn't even be called a fight - had only left her feeling dirty. Yet there wasn't a speck of dust nor a drop of blood on her pristine outfit, despite her insistence on dusting herself off.
Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she strolled over to the fury riddled French man, whose head was completely beet red. Steam was curling off of the top of his head and the air around him shimred slightly.
"DON'T THINK YOU CAN PUT DOWN LIKE A DOG YOU FILTHY DEMON!"
He threw his head back, letting out a mighty and defiant roar, as he unleashed all of his power. His head erupted into flas and his aura exploded out from him, flooding the room with every ounce of his strength.
It wasn't just a show of strength in a desperate mont, but an attempt to display his sheer supremacy and undeniable dominance. But that's all it was... An attempt.
He stood straight, puffing out his chest pompous and pointing his chin high to the ceiling as the maid casually approached. His chest heaved as he caught his breathe, trying to regain his dignity as he started down the approaching maid. His aura still blasting out of him in overbearing waves of raw power.
"I am Etienne Dreux-Brézé, and you will show the respect I deserve. Wretched Demon, I should do you a favour and send you back to hell where you belong. But perhaps if you spread your legs, you will be forgiv-"
A smack across his flaming face shut off his pompous, self assured voice before it could speak anymore. A second slap rocked his head and turned off the flas, returning his head back to is regular flesh and blood appearance.
His cheeks were glowing red, as his face was twisted into a baffled expression. But the maid was far from down.
Slap after slap struck his cheeks. Each one was given with the least amount of effort possible, yet each one cracked like thunder from the impact. The entire room shuddered from the slaps, more than his pathetic display of power had ever done.
By the ti the lazy maid finally stopped, the French man's face was completely swollen, making it look like he had been stung by a thousand bees.
His hand, the one without a ruined finger, dove into the inside of his suit jacket and brought sothing out. Clutched in his hand was a stone slab, which he held high as he sohow managed to speak once more, although not without spitting blood and teeth from his swollen lips with every word.
"You will regret this when he gets here!"
The maid's eyes widened and for the first ti since her arrival, her expression changed, twisting into one of surprise before morphing into anger. When she next moved, it was with speed and purpose instead of her usual lazy deanour.
Her hands blurred as they moved, one of them latching onto his wrist, while the other grabbed him by the jaw. Then, they simply pulled in opposite directions.
With one swift movent, she crushed his wrist and tore his head from his shoulders. His eyes still wide in horrified confusion, before she crushed the head in her hands like a grape.
So flinched at the sudden violence while others stayed completely still, not caring in the slightest. Corvus simply leaned forwards with intrigue, his eyes narrowing as he craned his neck to see the stone slab still clutched in the corpses hand.
'Well now... Doesn't that look interesting.'
The maid glared at the ruined body with absolute disgust, before brushing herself off again. Sohow, despite even crushing a head in her hands, there was still not a drop of blood on her.
It simply slid off of her uniform and skin, unable to get a grip or stain.
She turned to one of the Kobold butlers and said with visible disdain as she pointed to the stone slab.
"Take the traitor away, and dispose of that thing."
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