In the main courtyard of the Academy, the goblins practiced the first principles of the Methods they received from Ain. Since they were both violent criminals and scholars of wholesome murder, they already knew how to use a sword. In fact, when it comes to the practice of 'is that gold in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? By the way, does this sword taste like oblivion?', they were masters of their trade.

And it didn't take that long to teach them either. Ain touched their foreheads for a brief moment, and that was it. They knew everything they had to know. Of course, had anyone with more than a single working brain cell seen him do this, they would become extremely suspicious of Ain. Modifying the Origin, and imparting knowledge in this way, was not only taboo, but also considered largely impossible. Only a few individuals in the world could do it. The Calamity Lord was one of them, some High Gods and Greater Spirits were also capable of it.

And then there was Ain. Largely still a mystery. Reincarnations weren't that unlikely, it happened every now and again. A Source too great to return to the Radix returned to the world, broken and splintered. Complete Reincarnations, knowledge and identity and all, was extremely rare, and far as anyone knew, only possible with tremendous and taboo Source magic. It was largely believed that doing this, however, had extreme consequences, so not even the Calamity Lord was foolish to attempt it.

Now, in the twilight of his life - at the end of his lifespan - the Calamity Lord who had watched over the Demon Realm for two thousand years, and after the Great War built the kind of peace that everyone who fought actually desired, sought a Successor to hopefully continue the tradition of peace and progress. And yet, even he would not consider the prospect of Complete Reincarnation. He would rather leave the fate of the world in the hands of someone else, and hope for the best.

Ain, to say the least, understood the Calamity Lord better than anyone else ever could. As a Human Hero, even Ain had to come to understand that the results, in the end, justified the means. Perhaps, in a different life, Ain and the Calamity Lord would have been enemies, but in this life, Ain could only admire his achievements.

"Def feel sick..." the goblin murmured, falling to a knee.

"It because Def eat Troma liver. Troma hope Def sick forever," his companion said.

"Troma eat Def heart. What kind of friend eat heart? So rude."

"Def want to talk about rude?" Troma snorted. "Def sign Troma as co-signer on loan. Def drag Troma into def pact. Now Troma die if Def die."

Def smirked. "Def only do what best for Troma and Def. It was good time."

Troma snarled. "Def also make Troma best man at all weddings. Def ex-wife also kill Troma because Def not pay separation tax. Or alimony."

"Def not even have kids. Why Def pay alimony? So stupid. Def never pay. Def rather die than pay."

"If Def not pay, one day, even Troma kill Def. Def ruin Troma life. Troma can't even get loan now, credit rating terrible, no leverage, no liquidity, no estate. Troma in financial ruin."

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"Heh, heh," Def chuckled, face twisting from the sickness he felt in his stomach. "Def really feel sick."

"Good. Def deserve it. Def asshole friend."

"Def warn Troma about calling Def assho--" Without any warning, Def turned away from his friend and vomited. Fire and brimstone poured from his throat for several seconds; it crackled and burned the grass, no substance, just flame.

"What the fak did Def eat? Troma also want some," Troma said, walking over to Def.

"Def think he gonna die," Def whispered, voice weak.

"That not happen. Def already det," Troma smirked.

Def turned towards his friend, and once again, fire poured out of his throat, right over Troma's shoes - which he stole from the dead demon.

"Tch, Troma now need new shoes. Why Def not vomit elsewhere?" Troma grumbled, casting a predatory glance over the deserted courtyard, looking for a victim that wore his size of shoes.

"That is the Living Word of Fire," Ain said, distracted. "If you keep trying to force your Link open, it will kill you. Take it slow. You can't master a Method over night."

Ain tapped Def's chest, and his fingers sank through the goblin's skin. The goblin screamed, as if he was being murdered, but then quickly quieted down when he realized it didn't hurt at all. There was no blood or injury either. As if Ain's hand was immaterial.

Ain withdrew his hand, holding an ethereal ball of fire. "You created an interesting spirit. So tame."

"Def create spirit?" the goblin asked, suddenly relieved of his sickness.

Ain nodded. "It is a Living Word of Fire. It's not exactly a true Spirit, but it falls into that category. Here you go, take care of him," Ain said, offering the ball of fire to Def.

"Can Troma have spirit friend?" Troma asked.

"Maybe. If you make a mistake and overload your Link. I wouldn't try it though. Berserk Links attract all kinds of creatures. It won't always be a Living Word."

Def patted the ball of fire, eyes twinkling with happiness. "Def finally have kid. Def so happy, he could die."

"Def already det," Troma corrected his friend. Again.

Def glared at Troma.

"Just don't feed it too often, or you will die," Ain said and turned towards an approaching group of people.

It was Senon, flanked on all sides by what looked like suitors. On a second glance, the situation became clear. They were worse than suitors looking for courtship. They were recruiters demanding submission.

"Senon is truly a miracle of the new generation. Senon should join the Elite faction," one of them said.

"The Elite is great, but if Senon were to join the Nobility faction, her livelihood would be guaranteed for all eternity. All the resources at our disposal, will be at your disposal, Senon."

"Senon, you don't belong with either one of them. We, the Raveners, extend our hand to you. You were made for war and we recognize that. Becoming the leader of our faction is not impossible for you."

There was another among them, but he did not speak.

"Sorry, but I have already decided to follow my Master. Where he goes, I will go," Senon responded with dignity and pride in her tone.

"Who is your Master?" the Nobility representative asked.

Senon pointed at Ain.

"Master, Def sense trouble," Def said.

Troma nodded. "I think Sister Senon went to brothers and tell them how mean Master was. That why Senon point at us. We screwed now."

Def also nodded. "Def do the heroic thing, Master not worry."

Ain smiled at the two goblins. Of course, Ain could hear the group's conversation, but the goblins didn't seem to have that kind of finely-tuned perception. "Ah, don't worry about i--"

Def suddenly pushed Troma forward, and shouted. "Troma did it! Troma bastard."

"What Def doin--" Troma yelped.

Def produced his club from his robe and smashed it over Troma's head, sending Troma to the ground. "Disgusting goblin! Def eradicate Troma and entire filthy cabal!" Def shouted.

Troma groaned.

"Who asshole now, asshole?" Def growled, satisfaction twinkling in his eyes.

Even the Living Word spat a burning ember of hatred on Troma's prone form. "Affhole," it hissed in a wholly endearing and cute way.