The day had come quick, a dreamless night. Derb slunked out of bed and kicked Connor’s leg from under the bed. The stupid demon really needed to kick that dumb habit. “Connor… armor.” Derb mumbled. He was still tired but he knew if he acted lazy there’d be no way he’d be able to get out of bed. He scratched his back and went to go for a coffee, only to remember it probably didn’t exist. “Damn, I haven't been this tired in a while...” He moaned. He thought this new body he trained didn’t require sleep but he realized he never really strained it to this point, at least mentally.

He slapped his cheeks to bring himself back to light. Connor started putting on the armor while Derb looked at his pack with no more food. He sighed at the pathetic situation, determined to head out and kill whatever the bounty said to kill, what was it again? He pulled it out from the belt that was still on the floor, he’d have to fight goblins, it seemed. He looked at the meager 3 silver reward and smiled pitfully, it was a start. It did suck that killing more wouldn’t warrant more money but he knew better than to complain about it. Rank was important either way so he didn’t feel too bad about losing the coins.

He strapped his cloak onto his now completely donned armor and waked out, Connor following closely behind. He ignored the stares from everyone in the inn as he went outside into the streets. It was still busy despite it being early morning, nobody here hearing about days off. Surprisingly the stares didn’t stop when he went outside, people around him clearing large openings for him to pass. It must have been his actions in the tournament that did it… He pulled the cloak tighter around his head as he hurried towards the town's gates. He gasped when he noticed how crowded they were, the day had barely begun and already the gates were filled to the brim.

He took a second to think, only to throw caution to the window and leave less carefully. He ran left until he found a tall enough building to hide his misdeeds, hoping there wasn’t some magic nonsense that prevented him from carrying out his plan. He turned on the rabbit spell and scaled the wall with the sharp claws on his gauntlets and leggings, Deitre must have put them there for this reason since he naturally flew up the wall as if gravity wasn’t an object. He grabbed onto an errant crack and used the leverage to launch himself the rest of the way. A quick look around found nobody so he launched off the wall and landed on the other with a thud on his ass, Connor landing carefully behind him.

“Ouch… I should really start learning how to land...” Derb groaned, rubbing the lower part of his spine. He casually summoned his horse as he stretched out the kinks in his back. Mist appeared from a thin smoke, snorting and digging at the ground with her hoof. Derb looked at her and he smirked. “You got stronger, why haven’t you evolved?” Usually when a monster got stronger it meant they evolved, but Mist remained the same. She just looked at him with those cold intelligent eyes and continued snorted in derision. He sighed at the cold attitude and went to jump on.

“Hah, it doesn’t matter. Just the fact that you got stronger is enough for me...” He leaned closer towards her ear, “Stronger than Connor, at least.” The horse neighed in amused derision as did Derb, staring at Connor's small frame. Connor looked at the two with shinn eyes full of such pure curiosity that both the horse and Derb looked away in guilt. “Master?” He asked, floating towards them with a gentle tone. Derb smiled guiltily at him, “Nothing, Connor. Keep up the good work.” The incubus smiled and nodded, floating around his master in an amused state.

Derb leaned closer to the horse, who he now knew had some sort of sentience. “Let's not be mean to him anymore, ok?” Mist nodded, clopping towards the woods without him even asking. Derb rode along, wondering how the horse found out where he was going when he just came back into the world. The horse turned back and neighed innocently, deepening his suspicions more. “Smartass...” He muttered as he repositioned himself so he was laying down instead of sitting. In a spark of pure brilliance, he left everything worth doing back at the inn, so he was quickly getting bored as mist galloped towards his mission.

He practiced infusing his gauntlets with mana but realized it was as easy as blinking. Instead, he tried something different. He saw in the tournament how Ryan’s sword had turned into a new weapon altogether when it was infused with mana and he had to wonder if he could do it too. He laced his gauntlets with an intense burst of dark mana but it did nothing to change it. He could feel it resist him, not actively but more as if it was a puzzle he hadn’t properly figured out yet. He thought about how he could properly do it, deciding to just brute force it with his mana control.

He closed his eyes and started meditating, but instead of breathing in mana he siphoned it out of his body and transformed it. He formed the mana into dark, forming a small condensed ball that glowed a malicious purple. He kept pouring pure dark mana into it until the ball started swirling violently. Unlike regular mana the more he filtered it the darker it got, so the ball had turned into a dark space in his hand. The regular mana around it being overtaken by dark wisps that trailed out of the center of the ball. He felt unsatisfied at the outcome, though. He felt that he couldn’t add more but he thought that it seemed a bit too unstable…

He decided to counteract it with his ritual ability, creating mana circles around his arm not unsimiliar to the chain spell his master had taught him, just to a smaller degree. The rituals connected to each other instead of the ball, their passive aura slowing and caging the erratic ball of darkness. He smiled proudly at his creation, spinning the whole thing to get a better look. It almost looked like art, rituals in a dodecahedron shape connected to each other while keeping the pure black void in place. He hesitated for a second before entering his hand into the spell construct.

It was cold inside since nothing but dark mana was inside. Nothing could get in or out except for him, or his gauntlet to be exact. He touched the orb with a finger, the metal morphing the claw into a longer and more menacing shape. The reaction was instant, the ball latched onto his hand like a water droplet. For a second he thought his hand was on fire only to realize it was because of the gauntlet rearranging itself. It actually didn’t hurt too bad, only surprising him in the beginning. The dark mana kept going up the arm until it hit the limit of the ritual, right to the base of his forearm. It only got wilder and wilder, transforming the armor underneath a cacophony of black wisp and smoke until eventually, the ritual blew up, the dark mana releasing into the surroundings and killing the grass around them.

“Oh, shit...” Derb said, looking at the 30 feet barren wasteland around him. His arm was an even bigger surprise. First of all, it looked downright hideous, while the rest of his armor was styled the gauntlet looked as if it had been made purely for power in mind. The gauntlet looked stretched and scratched in some places, with others looking as if they were welded together. It paled in comparison to the small outstretched blades ripping out of his finger, each about 4 to 5 inches long. The whole arm looked bigger as well, thick and heavier than any other part of his body. He realized they were still moving, he assumed the blast had killed Mist and maybe Connor but he was surprised to see them perfectly fine. Connor even looked a bit chipper.

He brushed it off to it being his mana, so it had no effect on them, and turned back to his experiment. He tried moving his hands only to realize in glee that the blades retracted back into nothing the moment before they hit his hand. This meant it actually had a use for his greatsword instead of just being a weapon in and of itself. The most he knew was how to punch, anything else would mean him having to learn another weapon, something he vehemently refused to do. He tried lacing it with mana only to realize it was already sucking the mana out of him, though not at a noticeable level.

Unfortunately, the little experiment had forced his mana capacities down to less than a quarter so he had no choice but to close the link between him and the gauntlet. It wasn’t as if he needed it to hunt down some… goblins. He stopped the idea of disconnecting the gauntlet, it was probably going to be fun taking them out by hand. Mist had already entered the forest and Connor was in the sky scouring the area for little green men so all he had to do was wait. He closed his eyes and focused on refilling his mana capacity, getting it back to almost half in the time it took for Connor to make it back to him.

“Goblins, follow me,” Connor said, slipping through the trees as Mist galloped along. He watched as they seamlessly traversed the forest, almost feeling like he wasn’t required… He eventually consoled himself that he was the muscle of the team moments before Connor held a hand out and stopped them. “Goblins. Dangerous.” Derb nodded and unsummoned Mist, summoning Jack to take her place. “Connor, fly above them and try to weaken them as much as possible before we attack.” He reached for his sword before remembering he was using his fists today. “Jack, get ready, Connor will be back any-”

A giant boom happened behind him, right in the middle of the camp. He turned behind to see Connor floating above, dropping fist-sized black snowflakes from his hands as he twirled and danced in the air. The moment they hit something they exploded in dark fire, covering the camp deep in flames. Derb took a step back, it seemed his incubus had also grown a bit during the arena, for the better or worse… “Connor! That’s not what I meant by weakening them!” Derb cried as he and Jack charged in. He noticed that the black flames around him didn’t hurt him, some of the larger ones even going out when they got in his way.

He grinned as he realized it wasn’t going to hold him back, leaping forward with reckless regard. He soared over the gates of the barely recognizable encampment landing on one of the small monsters. It was covered in clothes from head to toe, covered enough to almost look like a human child. He paid no mind, punching it in the face and hearing its gargled shriek as it clawed at his armor. He pushed his fist deeper into its face until it caved in, the clothes thankfully covering the gory scene. With a quick maneuver, he removed the left ear with one of his finger blades.

He scoured the area to see the rest of the goblins, almost a hundred of them that were dressed just like the one under him. Jack was already in the middle of them all, not even using his mind powers as he just grabbed and slammed goblins into the ground. It looked outright grotesque as he saw his terrifying summon pick up childlike figures and crush them into still, lifeless bodies. He didn’t want to fight anymore, taking his time going around and picking up the ears of the body Jack left behind.

Occasionally, a dumb goblin charged him, another ear added to his collection. He honestly didn’t like doing this, most of the things he fought before didn’t look too human, and even if they did they were usually his size… Goblins had suddenly started throwing off their burning clothes, revealing slightly muscular but skinny builds that looked more like an adult’s. Even then, they reminded him of how Connor looked like before, making them seem sort of cute. He missed the days where he could kick Connor around and not feel bad about hitting someone that looked so fragile.

...He scoured around, unclothing goblin heads and picking out the neatest looking goblins, finding many that looked eerily almost human. He thought about bringing them back to the inn but decided he didn’t mind losing the efficiency of ritual circles. He also didn’t want to figure out if they allowed dead goblins into the city. He didn’t want anything powerful, he just wanted something social. Connor was fine and he realized Mist was also good for conversation but he wanted diversity, change. He already messed up with Jenny, Ryan, and like, 30 other groups in the tournament.

He set up the ritual, well, Connor set up the ritual, burning the ground in the marks of his ritualistic star symbol. He wished he had a bit of salt to smoothen the process but he doubted he’d waste much mana on wisp-ranked demons. He wondered how many goblins he’d be able to summon as he stacked bodies onto each ritual. They weren’t meant to take much space because of their rank so he was excited to see how many he could make. A few minutes and a dagger to one of his palms later he had the process set to summon one. The flesh was bubbling and he could feel a consciousness.

What did he want out of a goblin… no, what was a goblin in general? Derb went deep into thought, before realizing. Goblins were small and weak, a skilled child could beat them. Despite being small they made it up with one thing. “Intelligence” He muttered. With their brains and teamwork, they were able to take on creatures bigger than them. Even a skilled adventurer could be taken down if they messed up during a goblin ambush. The only reason Derb was able to beat them so easily was that his team was basically made to take out large amounts of weak targets. Connor basically cripples weaker forces while Derb himself could heal from their bodies.

The goblin formed from the mold and came out screaming, not the guttural noises the goblins made when they died (He could still hear Jack taking out stragglers in the background) but a pained, actually humane scream. The goblin didn’t even last the forming process as it fainted and hung limply in the air, still forming and bubbling like mad. He grinned maliciously as he started pouring in dark mana, looking at the rest of the corpses he hand-picked. This was going to be fun.