Green life essence rose from Doevm's body. A crooked smile appeared. It was a habit whenever he fought someone. "Just relax, young master," he urged, sarcasm oozing from his voice. "You can just chug down your family's potions all your life and become strong like that."

"Shut up!" Thomas yelled, followed by a burst of red life essence. He charged and swung wide, telegraphing his intent. Doevm twisted around the blunt spearhead and countered with a painful thrust to the chest.

Thomas braced but it felt as though the dull spearhead had torn right through him. He collapsed in a fit of coughing, got up, fought, fell, got up, fought, and fell. It was a vicious cycle of taunts and defeat. Doevm would always aim for the chest so that the damage would carry into proceeding rounds. It hurt more than it should have. Soon, Thomas lay splayed out on the ground cursing in between gasps for air. The sun began to set, and Doevm and Frey left him. To be more exact, he chose to remain behind.

"I don't get it," he complained into the empty sparring chamber. "How is a commoner like that beating me? I don't slack off during training. I should be stronger than him. He doesn't even drink potions." He turned his head as the captain of the Virility guards, Jameson, walked in with a broom in one hand and a rake in the other.

"Young master, what are you doing here?" the middle-aged man asked. He offered a hand to Thomas and stood him up. "You shouldn't spend the night laying on this filthy ground. The lord will worry."

Thomas turned towards the doorway but didn't move. "I lost to Doevm, again."

Jameson smirked when he thought Thomas wasn't looking. "So you lost, huh?" He walked towards the end of the room and began retracing sparring circles using the rake. He would occasionally glance at Thomas, who simply watched.

"He cheated." Thomas eventually blurted out. "He cursed at me and insulted me, making me lose my head."

"And?" Jameson asked, trying not to sound too condescending. "Young master, when you fight people your goal is to kill them. Anything that helps you do that is a weapon, like insults and provocation. Opponents will say or do anything to mess with your head, especially if you're a mage."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "You just don't get it. I've never read about a hero cursing out his opponent. I don't want to fight like that. I want to feel good when I win."

Jameson paused. He shook his head, muttering to himself. When he turned Thomas's way, he stood up straight like any other guard in the Virility household. He didn't seem to be looking at the naive fool nor anything in the Pit for that matter. "Son, think what you will about a fight, all that matters are the good people you fight alongside. When they're in danger, you just don't care anymore." He turned around and continued about his business.

'They're counting on me,' Thomas thought. One of his cold fingers twitched, sliding against the bloody stone floor. His dulled senses returned through waves of increasing clarity.

"You are all so much more worthless then I gave you credit for," Zolgon continued to antagonize the group of mages. "You there, yeah you, with the gimp. You didn't even hesitate to cut down your own student! They must have really pissed you off, being so disobedient like that. I assure you any demon behind me would do the same thing! Lift your head up! Everyone wants to see your eyes!"

"Everyone keep hold of yourselves, for the love of the goddess," Lance's voice barely held together. His green magic circle flickered, still aimed at his own students. "I promise you, just focus."

One of the third-year students formed a magic circle in front of him, pushed a burst of mana through it, and an earth Elemental began to rise up from it. All attention turned towards the unfortunate student.

"No one is coming to save you!" Zolgon yelled out. He gave a signal and those alongside him joined in the fun.

"You're surrounded."

"The Knight's Academy has abandoned you."

"I'll let you run, just give up."

Lance and the rest of the mages were pressured into silence. The earth Elemental, still being constructed, shuttered. One of its arms formed smaller than the other. It hobbled to the line of other Elementals and poofed out of existence. Laughter filled the room, all directed at the one summoner. The student cursed. He tried to get back to meditating but he couldn't seem to sit still. Thomas watched the effect sweep across the summoners like a wave.

"Tighten up the formation of Elementals so the demons don't see us," Frey suggested.

"No, keep them where they are," Glenin countered. "We shouldn't lose sight of our enemies."

'Zolgon, that cocky fucker,' Thomas thought. 'Who the hell would go that far to taunt an army? Just like Doevm, there's got to be something more to what Zolgon is doing. I can feel it. Get up, me. Get up. They're shit-talking your friends damn it. Get up!' He suppressed a strained groan before it could escape his throat. 'I'm supposed to be Undead. Why does this hurt so much?'

Zolgon spoke up again: "Oh here comes another one!" He pointed to another third-year student in the process of summoning a fire Elemental. She looked so frail under her large robe. She took a deep breath and pulled her hood over her cute face, seemingly bracing for what was to come.

Muscles bulged in Thomas's arms. If he used life essence, the demons would see the blue mist. He rolled back to his previous position without the enemy noticing him. After all, he was supposed to be dead. He placed a sack of black powder and crawled onwards. The pool of blood made stealth difficult but compared to the muddy swamp, it was a walk in the park.

The hail of curses assaulted the student. She remained strangely steady.