Chapter 127: Bertilak

In his wake Parc was leaving behind corpse after bloody corpse, few getting the honour of remaining whole as when his Blade of Grass would tear through the wind, severing sinew and cracking bone. Those most unfortunate to have survived his first attack would quickly find the vein on their bady growing a sickly green as the flesh would rapidly necrotize as the poisonous coating of the blade ran its way through their bodies until it reached their hearts and was pushed throughout the rest of their body.

It was bloody and cruel. But it wasn't something he was unused to. Compared to his time in Kurome's world the things he saw here just simply couldn't compare. For all the branding those slaves went through here, there they would simply be beat until they died or would have their bodies fiddled with by saws and chains. It was still enough to enrage Parc albeit, for he was no fan of these horrible, horrible actions.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Can't say I've seen your face round here, little brat," as Parc pulled his blade from his latest victim a man with a large green mohawk and goatee pushed his way out of one of the building. His burly body and heavily defined muscles flared as he lifted a large chain mace, the core dragging along behind him, the entire thing a dark black lustre of metal dented with rust. "Those men were costly to procure." He said glancing to the corpse at Parc's feet.

"I'm sure they were. And I'm sure those people back there were just as costly."

"Ha! Hell's no, damn faunus are cheap as sand out in the markets." The mans voice held a gruff grumble as he came to a standstill opposite Parc.

"And the humans?" Parc quirked an eyebrow, clearly having recalled a few non-faunus in the group.

"Barely a difference. Maybe a few hundred lien more maybe even less for the damaged goods." The man grunted and stretched his bulging muscles.

Parc's eyes darkened for a moment before the aura receeded and he sighed, "you people are always some of the worst. You treat life like toys you can play with willy nilly. Scum, all of you," Parc gripped the Blade of grass tighter when he felt a strange attraction on the blade that was forcing, he tip to slowly drop to the ground. With narrowed eyes he looked to the blade and tried to move it but found it now held an unbearable weight.

'localized gravity?' he pondered for a moment about what was causing the sudden increase in weight when he was quickly brought out of the thought by an increasingly scorching heat coming from the blades handle, threatening to start searing his palm if he didn't relent and let it go. 'now some type of heat control…' dropping the blade to the ground Parc swivelled his head around searching for the other person, this green mohawked man's partner as semblances for the most part only focused on a single specific aspect and rarely had two. The only semblance he knew of that did have two such facets being that of Weiss and Winter Schnee with their semblances giving them control of certain glyphs as well as to summon grimm they had defeated in combat to fight for them.

The Blade of Grass clattered to the ground but swiftly began to glide into the air and shot off to the side, impaling halfway into a wall of one of the crumbling buildings. "Tell me bub, you a huntsman," the mohaked man said, beginning to spin his chain maced with the core crashing and tearing across the gravel road of the town.

"Far from," Parc responded laying a hand over his hip, continuing to search the road for the other huntsman, the woman one he'd seen walking alongside the man. "I work more in the shadows than anything else."

"Hoo? You're a merc then. Tell me who hired you and I may just not turn your brain into sauce." His mace slammed down harder, cracking earth to accentuate his words.

"No one really. Got stranded here not long ago and thought I could make use of your ships to get out of here." Parc gaze locked onto the top floor of the building the man had come from, finally noticing a woman sat in the window sill gazing down at him with a scry smile. Her wavy red hair billowing slightly in a small gust of air.

She was a pretty, most certainly beautiful tan-skinned woman with tinted goggles atop her head. Small freckles dotted her nose and cheeks and a single streak of silver running down the hair over her temple. Over her side she wore a short silver cape. A chainmail crop top put her midriff on display and gave Parc an ample viewing of her bountiful bust. Ending her outfit was an ensemble creation of a black belt, red mini-shorts and thigh-high shiny black boots.

Meeting his gaze the woman gave Parc a simple wave, her eyes as cold as ice, similar to those of the monsters he was all too familiar with.

"And you couldn't just come to us and ask us to get you off this place? So instead you decide to murder all our soldiers," the earth practically rumbled at the mans angered growls.

"Sounds about right," Parc bobbed his head in a nod.

The man's lips curled up and he bellied a laugh, "funny kid. Very funny, but you know we can't let you go now. Our bosses are not going to be very happy about what you did. This place has been of great importance to the Crown," the man stopped spinning his mace and pointed it towards Parc who could faintly see what looked to be a large, hollow cylinder running down the core filled with an ominously red glowing object. "and now you need to pay."

The glow strengthened and a loud bursting noise reverbed from the mace as a ball of flaming energy shot towards Parc like a falling sun. Parc huffed and dodged to the side making use of his Nepehlim's Rush to make enough distance with the ball of burst dust before it could make contact with the ground and blow up, disintegrating part of the earth and turning the once mostly whole corpse where he was standing into numerous smaller chunks of corpse.

Right as Parc reappeared, he was met with several dozen chunks of flying gravel lifting off the ground and shooting towards him like miniature earthy bullets one of which grazed past his shoulder before he could dodge. It tore through his clothing like they were paper but luckily didn't nick his skin.

Not given a chance to rest the brute of the two rush ahead, mace held in both hand over his head coming to slam down with overbearing strength that left behind a large crater where Parc had quickly dodged from.

Then from the building, the woman kicked off the windowsill and like an arrow with two sai's in hand which she brought down in a swift flurry of slashes and cuts that Parc was left to narrowly avoid and divert with his dagger before having to be sent on the retreat when the giant of a man cam from his back, swinging his mace in a diagonally upwards motion.

"Well now, aren't you the nimble fuck," the two huntsmen drew to a stop with the woman taking the lead to slowly walk around Parc who was feeling a strange heat cover his body, nearing the point of a desert scorch. "I'll admit, I didn't expect you to be so good considering your just a little puppy." The woman spoke, her voice resonating a soft, alluring tone.

Parc snorted, "oh, lady, I'm even better in bed."

That womans stride drew to a stop, her eyes opening wide before falling to a single raised brow and tremble upwards of her lips. A hum of uproarious laughter escaping her, "oh that's just precious. Hear that Bertilak, kid thinks he can get in my pants," she named the ogre of a man who only rolled his eyes at her. "How about this, you give yourself up, and I turn you into my little play thing. For, life, of course."

Shaking his head, Parc's lips curled into a sly smile, "sorry, that's not how it works ms…?"

"Carmine, Esclados." She whispered just loud enough for him to hear her, her voice just as alluring as before.

To her side the man known as Bertilak was snorted, "as if any sane man'd lay with you Carmine."

"Oh hush, plenty of men have. The amount that have seen the next day on the other hand…" She puckered her lips and her head tilted slightly before straightening to lock back onto Parc. "Well, I gave you the choice, you said no. Now, Bertilak!" she spat to her supposed partner who grew a tick mark on his forehead at her tone, "Kill!"