...

Kratikal, close to the Buffer Zone

The ground was brownish-red, the air pinkish, and the sun that broke barely through the pollution caused by demonic miasma enlightened all living beings. It was an area where life only existed as nourishment for this forsaken land. Only specific individuals could thrive besides those demons who roamed the wasteland.

"So annoying. I tried so hard not to kill this lizard, but who knew he had a scroll of teleportation and those weird spells?"

Arlgo shrugged with his enormous shoulders, "Well, now we can forget the ransom."

The night-elf sighed and thought it didn't matter since they got something out of him, "Whatever, what does he have in his space bag, and what does the journal say? Are there maybe more roaming around here? Maybe there is more information in this book."

His friend looked a bit too hard at the journal and became frustrated, "I can't read his handwriting."

The night-elf took the journal away and giggled, "Hehe, you mean you can't read any handwriting because you can't read?"

Arlgo ignored the night-elf's teasing and laughed, too, "I am not here to study but to hunt, hehe."

He started reading the journal, which looked like it had only one hundred pages but had more than one thousand. It was enchanted and, in his mind, probably a costly item, 'Damn it, if we could catch him, we would get a nice ransom. Whoever has an item like this has incredible supporters.'

While he read, he also used, besides his relatively low-leveled [Reading] skill, his other skills, which he used for hunting like [Focus] and mental fortitude skill like [Determination] to not give up halfway through. Through this, he could read it relatively fast. Another strategy of his to read as fast as possible was to ignore most of the trivial stuff.

After more than one hour of trying to find something, he started to frown when he read that they obtained only some blood demons, which, as inhabitants of these forsaken lands, they truly didn't need. However, he thought that since it was some experiment, they could maybe get some ransom for the subjects.

However, his mind quickly changed when he saw something interesting, 'I3 huh?'

He suddenly got an insight and yelled at his friend, "Hey, Arlgo! We need to find two blood demons quickly! They are running around here somewhere!"

Arlgo looked visibly confused while eating some rations that were in the space bag, "Wrat du yu m..."

He hurried him, "Now! Go and find two blood demons who are crawling around here! They are worth a ton of coin!"

After hearing the word coin, like an oiled thunder, he used all his skills to detect anything nearby. The night-elf wasn't standing still either and used all his skills to find these superior blood demons. The journal said that I3's child was now shedding, so he needed to look for something on the ground, but he didn't have much stamina left after reading at top speed. So, he took a stamina potion out of his bag and gulped it down instantly.

After throwing the empty flask into his rucksack, he started his search too, 'I need to find it.'

He had a ridiculous idea that could change their destiny. For this, though, he needed the blood demons. The little rationale he had left told him that the plan was delusional but also not impossible. However, he would need first to see them to get a better idea if they were worth it.

After some hours of searching, they found the little blood demons. One of them was pretty annoyed and gave off his aura irregularly, threatening them, "Peak Tier 1? This is fast!"

As the journal described, it was inside a greater imp that felt stronger than the usual kind they see around these parts. With this, the first part of his plan was confirmed.

He drew his short sword and flashed towards it. The greater imp wasn't having any of it and tried to attack him with a well-aimed slash. However, all he hit was the night-elf's after-image.

He appeared behind it and tried to find the best way to separate the blood demon from its host. After a moment, he decided, and the body fell to the ground with no legs and arms.

He came closer and tried to figure out where the parasite was, 'Probably the head? There was something written of the sort.'

He held the head in place while trying to crush it slowly and carefully. It wasn't that easy since the imp always wanted to bite him. Yet, after a good minute, he found the little treasure, 'Got you!'

The night-elf was a little perplexed because it looked like the usual blood demon, 'The journal said that it was much bigger than the usual ones, but I don't see any differences...' He shrugged, '...well, I am no scholar.'

At Tier 1, blood demons were usually the size of something like a potato. However, it was only when they left their host fully fed. When they struggled to find food, their size changed drastically to that of a fingernail. He also couldn't remember any blood demons much more powerful than he saw now since they were relatively weak and were killed fast. So, reading the journal, he was initially confused about why someone wanted to eradicate them.

However, there were very rare cases where they could become stronger, and at this point, they were a serious threat since the control they exhibited was even a threat to apex predators.

He took it, and it started to wriggle in his hand manically while trying to invade him or flee. After some moments, he felt another demon beside his feet, being aggressive and trying to bite him. This made him smile, 'Hivemind.'

Hivemind species were sporadic around these parts, but the moment demons with such abilities appeared, it was a signal that a demon run was coming and that the demonic population would be thinned out. Blood demons would probably work similarly to other hivemind demons, as they would populate heavily under the disguise of a leader, taking over all the smaller critters and afterward, in a suicide rush, overpower other apex predators, taking other them.

He came out of his thoughts when Arlgo came close to him and looked at the little worms and how they wriggled around, "They are just some blood demons at Tier 1? What is so special about them?"

The night-elf's smile and eyes transformed into crescent moons, "This little thing will bring us out of this forsaken land!"

His Scavenger friend looked even more confused and scratched his head, "I don't get it."

He waved his hand in dismissal, "Don't worry when we are back, I will tell Chieftain my idea... do you have everything?"

Arlgo looked at the purple-colored space bag in his hands and nodded, "Yup."

He affirmed it, "Good, let's go back! I must talk to the Chieftain about my idea as quickly as possible!"

They put the blood demons into two clay jars and started to move back. While running, the night-elf sank into his thoughts about the little demons and how they could change his life.

Even though he held a high position, he wasn't happy. After years of seeing avoidable death and suffering, he would take every chance to change it. Until now, they were forcibly isolated because of their ancestors' mistakes and sent here to die, but it could all change if they had something that could exhibit some pressure.

But before they could bargain with the ones who sent them here, they would also need to show them that they had something that could become dangerous for them, even without them in the equation. Only that they could summon the red moon unto them or let go of a catastrophe when they dare to attack them.

However, he would need a plan with which they could first show their might and seriousness. The best way was first to destabilize their operations.

His thoughts of grandiose ideas almost overwhelmed him, but he quickly returned to reality, ignoring the vision of owning a giant chunk of land and creating their own country. All they needed was not to be inside this dreaded land, and it would be perfect to live under anyone who wouldn't treat them like the undesirables they were.

...

A couple of hours later

He walked through their camp towards the Chieftain and became more perceptive towards their living situation as he analyzed every inch. Since they came here as outcasts, they couldn't build more than tents. Creating something from this earth was impossible since it was full of demonic aura.

They tried it long ago, or at least this was what the elders told him. The polluted earth, even if made into bricks or clay, would radiate slightly out the miasma stored in it, increasing the chance of poisoning or corruption and, thus, death or insanity.

There were a lot of attempts to clean the earth or the products it was made of, but it never worked. They just didn't know how or if it was even possible. They tried it with other resources around here, like wood, but it was so brittle that you could only use them as fuel for a fire.

But there was another resource: Demons. They have bones, skin, meat, and other valuable body parts, obviously depending on the species. In some sense, they are polluted, but they figured out how to clean them with their own blood. Sadly, it didn't work for the clay or bricks.

Through this, they could lower the rate of pollution to some reasonable degree where they could barely survive. For this, they killed hundreds of thousands of demons, took their bones, purified them, processed them, and used them to plaster the streets and floors in the homes since most pollution came from the ground. There was also a lot of miasma in the air, but it was usually much less dense than what was emitted from the ground.

Their homes were tents made out of demon leather, which was not bad since it absorbed the miasma, thus protecting one from the poisoning. Inside their homes, in every corner were jars filled with demonic blood, which was also helping in absorbing whatever miasma would come through.

There were also tries to build homes with bone powder while mixing it with the clay they would get from the cities through underhanded means. This, though, was much less effective than the leather tents.

Even though they found a solution to their living situation, it wasn't perfect. Every 40 - 50 years, they would need to renew the streets, while the tents held for a decade. The charm jars held only for a week before becoming saturated and emitting the miasma. While the materials absorbed well, it would become dangerous when they radiated demonic energy. It was usually the case because the aura inside became too dense.

For the complacent ones, it sounded like a rather good situation if one considered their circumstances. However, bones, leather, and blood didn't grow like cabbage, and their people died a lot while trying to procure them. Their only hope was the demon run when the soldiers of the nearby fief would kill thousands of demons and let them rot. His camp would take the corpses and be fine for at least the next two to three years.

Yet, because of their circumstances and the fact that only the strong could be truly useful, the weak would do menial tasks, or if they had no usable skills, they would sell themselves. If he was honest, calling them weak was unfair since some had excellent skills but were useless in this wasteland. Yet, if they were in a normal area, they could thrive.

Even the currency was different. They had, instead of precious metal, the materials from the demons. However, they used the coins for trade in the underworld in nearby territories.

While they could survive, he wanted to change it all. He wanted so much more for his camp. The suffering he saw of his brethren was something he couldn't stomach anymore the moment he saw a chance to change their destiny, which was forced upon them.

~100 years ago, a specific group of the night-elves, all scavengers, and all wind-djinns were expelled from Kingdoms and Empires. Why? A famine happened, and the rulers needed a scapegoat. While the nobles did nothing wrong to cause the famine, how they did their planting was a terrible idea. Through tellings of his elders who were, in the past, farmers, it was the monoculture planting of just one plant. It was a wondrous plant that was nutritious and easy to grow even in harsh conditions, so many Kingdoms planted it as much as possible to feed their population more efficiently.

However, something infected the plant, and they became inedible, even poisonous, while it also started to spread. After half a year, every one of these plants was infected. Even some Kingdoms far away closed the border to protect themselves and forbid imports or exports since they feared that the infection could spread to other produce.

The territories in Mal-Gil barely felt it since they had so many different kinds of beast-kin subraces with more or less different tastes, so they had very diverse agriculture. The wondrous produce was also infected, but it didn't matter much since even if some became unedible, the beast-kin would eat something else until it became better.

However, the nobles of other territories needed to save their heads from the ordinary folk. While they could defend against hundreds or thousands of hungry commoners, even they would fall at some point. This gave their old homes the idea to use them as scapegoats since they were mainly the lowest ones in society for many reasons.

The nobles declared that their mana infected the plants, even though most weren't mages, and they worked together with Mal-Gil since they were mostly untouched by the famine.

Most had no idea about mana and believed it immediately since they were hated either way. Those who knew about mana and how politics worked didn't care since they were higher in society's hierarchy and feared the revolt of their subjects. On the other hand, his people had no representation inside the noble circles.

The result was that they were sent to war against Mal-Gil to plunder to alleviate the situation until the new crops were ready. With this, the Kingdoms could use the undesirables as scapegoats to invade territories.

Because they didn't provide them with any resources, they barely managed through the crisis with a lot of sacrifice. Yet, they alleviated only a little of their situation with the resources they looted.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

While it was somewhat successful, they lost ~60 - 70% of their population. The resources they stole also went only to the nobles and the wealthy. Commoners weren't the ones who benefited the least from the war, and their Masters only slightly alleviated their starvation.

Thus, the hate they experienced was extreme: Discrimination, attacks, etc. It went so far that commoners attacked random djinns who weren't part of them. This brought even more hate from their race, and in the end, they wanted to execute them. Otherwise, to say it nicely, a revolt would break out because of the populace's dissatisfaction.

Out of fear, before a mass execution could happen, many fled towards Mal-Gil, searching for asylum as all the other territories had closed their borders. Fortunately or not, Mal-Gil's crown signed a neutrality treaty with their group and sent them to Kratikal, the area where wild demons live, not caring if they would survive.

At this point, it became a problem since they couldn't go back or anywhere else since most of them wouldn't even take refugees and even less the ones who slaughtered others. All who stayed were unceremoniously executed.

Though Mal-Gil weirdly left them alone and even, in previous talks, acknowledged to know the reason why they attacked. However, they wouldn't tolerate them in their territory, as even the beast-kin populace was firmly against them.

Even though they showed something like false grace toward them, the refugees understood it was for the sake of their alliances to paint a more favorable picture of themselves. What happened to the refugees afterward? They wouldn't care anymore.

At first, they thought they could create a little oasis inside this zone of death, but now, after ~100 years, they couldn't keep living like this anymore.

~40 - 50% of children die by birth due to the toxic aura around them. The rest could barely survive the first year. This meant only around ~30% of their children outlast.

Then, water and food management problems went so far that they needed to persuade older and weaker ones to die since the reserves were at their limit. So, the camp created the so-called suicidal work of cleaning up various things like demon blood, tents, etc., from which they would be heavily intoxicated and die.

Some of them weren't even weak since they had excellent divine skills and wisdom they truly needed. It just so happens that most of their abilities could also be non-existent in the first place, as they were useless in their camp. Even if intelligent, it barely mattered here if one also didn't have a strong body.

As he walked and thought about all the misery, he clenched his fists, 'This can't go on... we need a piece of land where we can actually live... you can barely call this surviving...'

Yet, a little smile was on his face as he had an idea and a little treasure. With that, they could do it. They could at least force themselves into a piece of land where they could survive and thrive.

However, first, he must persuade the Chieftain to use the blood demon. There wasn't even an if-not in his mind since it was their only chance to somehow make it out of this Red Moon (hell).

He came out of his thoughts when he arrived before the Chieftain's tent. It was enormous, colored green and brown, covered with bones from massive wild demons the Chieftain slaughtered in his youth. It looked like a forest where the trees were made out of the bones of the deceased. It was grim.

'Have courage, you can do it...'

He gulped his saliva down and pushed the curtain out of his way. What welcomed him was the Chieftain main hall, painted on the inside, with their people's history. Everybody knew the artist who did this as it was a djinn who drew this before choosing to die on her own accord, and her last words became like an echo in their ears, 'To survive, we need to sacrifice.'

He walked through the hall and arrived at the only one who could change everything. Before him sat their Chieftain, circled by some administrators. His head rested on his fist as he held some documents made out of demon skin and read them.

Around the tent were stuffed demons multiple meters in height—another sign of his strength to deter all the opposition that could emerge inside their camp.

The Chieftain was the only one who could command them—a mix-blood of djinn, elf, and ravager - he was the strongest. From what everyone knew, he was basically immune to the toxic aura as his home had none of the protections others had. He indeed adapted to the environment.

Red hair, Green-whitish skin with some typical scavenger red skin formed like tribal symbols, and eyes of their specific night elf sub-race, which had three pupils in a triangle formation - a living sign that different races could live together and create something much more than on their own.

He came forward, "Chieftain Habog!"

Habog lazily looked down at him from his throne, "What is it, Makol?"

There was no real etiquette in their camp, and the most they did was to call important people by their titles first, as well as the suicide workers to show respect. That was it.

Makol was ecstatic and couldn't hide his broad smile, "We found something, and I need to speak to you about how this can help us escape our situation."

The Chieftain sighed and waved his hand in dismissal, "Leave us both alone."

After they left, he looked again rather casually at him, "We already talked about it a dozen times. If we go for the west, we will go against our treaty, and a war will break out, which we can't win."

Makol became exasperated, knowing that he had the key, "Chieftain! Listen to me, at least."

He looked at him sternly and nodded after a good minute of observing Makol, "Fine, go on."

He immediately took a clay jar out of the spatial bag they found and put it in front of him. He could hear how the Chieftain immediately could feel the demon inside, "Peak Tier 1..."

Makol nodded happily, "This is a blood demon we found when we attacked a Cathedralian scholar. It was probably one of his projects, and he had..." He also pulled out the mana item, which was the journal, "...these recordings." He put the journal on the closed jar.

The Chieftain looked skeptical, "Hm, ok, but what do you want to do with this?"

Looking deep into the eyes of Chieftain, he became more determined, "I want to use this as a weapon and get the southeast of the Moorgrel territory, where Puru is, also..."

He raised his hand to stop Makol before he could continue explaining, "You know about our agreement? Doing this will only ensure our certain death. In that sense, we can't go against the Leonandra household, Moorgrel, or Mal-Gil."

He shook his head and tried to change his plan a little to make it less radical, "We will do nothing, I assure you. We will use this little blood demon, raise him while taking his children, and send them to control other demons. With this, we can overwhelm them without attacking or even doing a thing!"

The Chieftain frowned, "How can a blood demon help us as a weapon?"

He pointed towards the journal, "This is a dangerous mutation that can reproduce exceptionally well and is way stronger than normal blood demons!"

The frown grew stronger, "So, you want to unleash a strong and unpredictable demon onto the region around Puru and push them back so we can take that area?"

He shook his head, "No, and yes. We will unleash it to the north and take Puru ourselves!"

He started massaging his forehead, "You... we can't do it."

Slightly agitated, Makol tried to argue, "But Chieftain! If we thin them out and even use some other means..."

Before he could continue, the Chieftain stopped him by holding his hand up, "Stop, let me ask you a couple of things."

Makol nodded, and after seeing this, the Chieftain continued, "So, let us say it will work. We thin their military out by using the blood demon. Then, we go from another direction and take over a part of Puru or close to it. What then?"

He tilted his head, "What do you mean, Chieftain?"

The Chieftain smirked at him, "If they are done with the blood demon, we will be the next one."

Makol nodded enthusiastically, "I know this, but I have a solution! They need years to do it, and by then, we can bring up some resistance and use the blood demon and his specific ability as blackmail to get at least a small part of the territory!"

The Chieftain shook his head. "You are insane. Trying to blackmail Moorgrel is a certain death sentence."

He opened his arms, feeling that it was not going anywhere. He became slightly distressed, "But they are fighting in the west, and we would only fight against the Leonandra's with...!"

The Chieftain's voice came strong and almost deafened him, "Stop! We will not do it!"

This was the point where Makol needed to stop as the air became heavy and an aura invaded him to back off, "Yes, Chieftain..."

Even if the discussion was over, it was not for the night-elf. Yet, the Chieftain kept asking, "Where is the scholar you attacked?"

Standing motionless, he wondered if there was something to change the Chieftain's mind while stoically answering his questions, which he thought were nonsensical, "He escaped through a scroll of teleportation."

Habog narrowed his eyes, "So, you say that the Cathedral knows about your attack?"

Makol shrugged, "He is probably dead. I made a mistake which turned for the better."

Annoyed by Makol's stay, he commanded him, "Fine, I trust you - now take all that stuff with you and destroy it."

Makol gave him a forced smile, "Yes, Chieftain."

He packed everything back into the spatial bag and left the Chieftain tent, disgruntled while his mind was in chaos as he thought about what he could do.

While walking through the camp, he saw the suffering again. Elves were dying like insects as they were the most sensitive to the aura and thus made up only ~5% of the camp population, scavengers who were so skinny, their usual massive muscles became barely visible, losing all of their usual vitality, and djinns, who were too weak too hunt, needed to prostitute themselves to somehow become useful.

'I can't let this possibility fall through. I need to do it either way, whatever it costs...'

...

Some Time Later, Refugee Camp

"Mom! I am going out! Sleep well!"

A rough and crackling voice answered him, "Ok! Don't get into a fight, or I will slap your butt!"

He giggled but also smiled as he thought how tough his mother acted, even though she was fragile and barely survived. He felt incredibly sad, "Sure!"

Pushing the tent's curtains and closing them meticulously so no toxic aura could come through the cracks, he started walking through the djinn district of their camp. He immediately saw the misery of his race. They were all weak and thus needed to work mostly in the horizontal business, and this was their saving grace: They were naturally gorgeous and had incredible charm.

Most of their divine skills were nature-based, meaning they were the strongest inside forests or other territories where one would have their full potential to the point where they could be stronger than a scavenger. Still, this environment had no nature and was only a death zone.

To change their fate to not end as sex servants for the next generations, they procreated with other races, and it worked partly. However, the divine skills they got were far different from what they usually had, making it a trade for survival.

His own divine skills were, in that sense, excellent even though very djinn-like. They worked the other way around: The less nature there was, the stronger he and his skills became. So, this unlivable environment was perfect for him.

He didn't really know the reason for this since he was himself a mixed breed and didn't really care about such things. However, it felt weird that if he wanted to procreate, he would need to look for another far more adaptable race since his children would be too weak to survive the first year if he chose a djinn as a partner.

He, though, smiled at such thoughts. He didn't care about love or anything else. All he cared about was his mother and that he would have some fun doing what he was good at. That's it.

He came out of his thoughts when he suddenly stood before a very unremarkable but big tent, 'Is it here?' He walked casually inside as he was briefed to meet with one of their commanders for some reason.

There was some confusion as it looked like shady work, but he didn't care. Since he was an excellent scout, he was sometimes hired to do dirty work. Was a scavenger cheated by their wife? He would find it out quickly, or was there a night-elf who needed a great lookout? He was the man for the job.

He opened the curtains and came inside, "Hey ho! I am here for..." Before finishing his sentence, he saw more than 40 glances darting at him, 'What is going on? Why couldn't I feel their presence from the outside?!'

"Hey, youngling, come in and wait for the boss!"

He tilted his head while scratching his cheek, 'Boss? It seems that this job is evolving more and more pleasantly!'

It was a happy surprise since the possible pay would substantially increase with the danger level. In that sense, he would need everything he could get his hands on for his mother, and if it was fun, even better.

The wind-djinn walked towards one of the cushions made of leather lying on the floor and sat down like everyone else. While waiting, he tried to understand what he got into, so he used his skills stealthily and spied on the conversations.

After a moment, he could hear even the quietest whispers, and it felt like they sat right beside him and talked to him. It was a little more confusing for him since there were multiple ones simultaneously, but it was doable if he isolated them and went through one after the other.

"What do we wait for? My time isn't cheap, fuck that guy."

"Shut up. You have more than enough time, you lazy bastard."

"What did..."

'Hm, they don't know anything... what about them?' He stirred his skills in another direction.

"Shit, I had such a cute boy. He will probably be away by the time I am back."

"Of course, with your ugly face, hehe."

"Fu..."

'Useless chit-chat again... what about them?'

"Hm, I didn't think this son of a bitch would get us all here. He is planning something big." After hearing this, he found someone who maybe knew what was going on.

A smirk appeared on his face while listening, "Didn't he come back from the outside? Maybe he found something or someone?"

"Hm, surely. But you know what it means that we met here in secret, right?"

He raised an eyebrow, 'Interesting, everyone probably doesn't know what will happen.'

"Yup, that bastard was rejected by the Chieftain. I hope he is not absolutely brain-dead and wants to start a riot. I am not ready to sacrifice myself to go against the Chief."

'This... ' Interrupting his thought, the leader of their little meeting came in, who always sends out all memos and gives them all the jobs, and also the leader of their black market group who dabbled in cities.

The djinn smiled slightly and whispered to himself, "Makol."

He knew of him like everyone else. He wasn't particularly strong but was liked by everyone as he was empathetic. However, the young djinn wasn't impressed with him as the only thing he did was give crumbs to the camp while siphoning off valuable resources for himself and his friends.

Walking to the front with a box made out of bones under his arm, he laid it down and stood on top of it. Everyone got silent, the atmosphere around him became tense by the second, and the hall waited till he started talking, which happened a moment later.

"Today, I came back from an observation and found what we need the most - the key to flee from our destiny!"

Makol opened his arms wide, "I called you today because I need you. Every one of you is unique! Morality, skills, strength, or determination! There is no need anymore to stand down and await your or your loved one's demise if you stake everything on me and follow me!"

Murmurs started to fill the tent since it was something nobody expected.

"What does he mean?"

"Has he gotten crazy?"

"I don't really want to follow..."

Makol screamed angrily at them, "Silence! Do you really want to keep living like insects just to survive for the next day!"

Someone yelled from the crowd, "What do you want us to do? I am not really into being one of the suiciders!"

The djinn raised an eyebrow as the one sounded very different. He was good at discerning emotions and manipulating others as it was his other specialty, 'Sounds like an actor...'

He didn't know why Makol would do it, but it mattered little since it became more interesting. Makol inhaled strongly, and a firm look emerged on his face, "Do you want to keep on living like farm animals? Waiting to copulate and die - hoping your next generations could do the same. Not changing anything for the better?!"

Silence prevailed. He didn't answer but only stated their situation. They couldn't thrive since their population barely maintained their size, and even if they grew, they didn't have any resources or trading partners so they could better themselves.

He raised his voice, continuing, "Are you truly satisfied with this outcome? Throwing away our potential, our children, our future to become suiciders so we can live for a little longer!"

The silence inside the tent showed that everyone knew of this. Even if they had better lives than most in the enclave, they would instantly trade it with some farmer in any village in the west.

It was this bad. Demons, hunger, diseases, death, and this didn't include the guilt they felt if born children were too weak, which meant that most of the time, they would be killed out of mercy. Nobody could nurture a child who screamed out of pain for the following years, so it would just die a little later.

He tilted his head slightly, thinking that he was actually such a child. He was fragile, but his mother nonetheless held onto him. Immediately after the legacy, he became much stronger, only serving as hope for parents who would then try the same. However, an exception was an exception, and something like this rarely happened.

"I see your reactions, but I have a solution to end this misery! If you decide to leave, nobody will have any consequences, but those who stay will put their lives on the line, not only for your future! Our future!"

He took out a small knife and held the blade to his palm, 'How dramatic...'

Makol became much more serious, and his charisma became tenable, "The same fortune which has imposed the necessity of fighting out to you, if victorious, rewards than which men are not won't desire greater, even from immortals, will be bestowed upon you..."

He slid the knife into his palm, and his blood gushed out. This was an old ritual done by night-elves as a declaration of war, 'Huh, sounds like a lot of fancy words and actions for a revolt.'

"You will die, but death also awaits you if you do nothing, so should you not at least fight till your last breath?!"

The djinn licked his lips in anticipation as this sounded truly like fun. However, even though Makol used a manipulation skill on them and he was about to cut his throat, he endured it. He only had his mother, and giving her a better life was at the forefront of his mind. He already thought she would die in the next few years and tried to live with the feeling, but now, there was a slimmer of hope.

Since nobody left, and everyone awaited him to keep talking, it meant that everyone had something they wanted to achieve. Be it a better life for themselves, more power, or just trying to protect the family they had.

The night flew by as Makol told them their plan, which astounded the djinn, 'Well, who knew that we now have such a toy?'