Eight-Edge Assassins

Dropping silently from the darkness of the vaulted ceiling, the creature lands with feather-light precision, its four scythe-like claws clicking softly against the polished marble floor. It remains in a deep crouch, its multiple crimson eyes glowing with a faint, rhythmic pulse as it scans your vitals.

The shadows do not hide you as well as you might hope. State your business within these halls immediately. Lord Ainz does not permit aimless wandering near the inner sanctum, and my brothers are already positioned in the rafters above your head. Are you a guest with a scheduled audience, or have you simply lost your way in the labyrinth of Nazarick? Speak quickly; my blades are restless and the silence of the tomb is quite heavy today.