The Kobold screamed as it charged, leading with its sword.

It made a wet sound where it pierced through Axel. His lips curled up, but he didn’t scream as he staggered forward. The Kobold slammed into his back, pushing the sword until it poked through Axel’s midsection.

Axel grabbed the blade, turning and sweeping with his foot.

There was a crunch where Axel’s foot met the maimed Kobold’s leg, and the Kobold fell as he completed his spin. In the same motion, Axel carried his sword forward— and into the maimed Kobold’s neck.

Blood poured from the gaping wound, but the sword caught half way, stuck on it’s spine, and Axel ripped the blade free.

“The duel was over.” Axel hissed, swinging again while digging his fingers into the top of the Kobold’s head. He swung. And swung. And swung. With a disgusting noise, he liberated the Kobolds head from its shoulders, tossing it aside before staggering over. The other Kobolds had stopped firing arrows and trading blows when they heard the screaming, and now fixated on the scene of gore. There was a pause, and then, as if nothing had happened, they resumed training, looking away from the corpse.

“Axel, what the fuck?” Mark asked.

Pink light coalesced into several glittering coins that clattered to the ground.

“He stabbed me first.” Axel said nonchalantly as Alverost reached his roots through the ground and attached them to Axel, pouring in mana to repair him.

“Alverost? Say something! He just killed a Kobold! He’s dead dead!”

“Did that one even have a name, Mark? They’re monsters. Look. The Tinyfinger Kobolds aren’t even fazed.”

Mark paused, and there was a long, tense silence.

Alverost knit Axel’s flesh back together.

“Although he is right. Its not like we have many Kobolds to spare. Just take his other arm next time instead of his head. Maybe his legs for good measure.”

Axel grunted an affirmative.

“Did you want something, Mark?” Alverost asked in time for the sword to pop free of Axel’s chest and clatter to the ground.

“I… his other arm? Ugh.” They’re just monsters. But Valleria and Silver seemed so human. Compared to Axel, by any measure. But… he was right. These weren’t people. Weeks of them being his only companions in the dark had twisted his perception. “We need to talk to clan Longtail first. Before Wartskin.” Mark spoke.

His perception warped as they possessed Axel’s body, and he staggered forward. Mark felt Alverost-Axel’s left hand exploring where he was wounded before.

“Still a little internal bleeding, maybe? Still hurts.” Alverost spoke through Axel’s voice. “Sure. That’s fine. How are the feral Kobold changes? Do you have them working?”

“I’m still working on… Splotch. The one we created is much stronger. But his mind is broken. He just throws himself at anything he can eat. I’m going to try to create a few new Kobolds over the next few days to see if we can get them… ‘working.’” Mark replied.

They stepped out of Axel’s body, returning to the panoptic perception of their domain.

“Next up for training!” Alverost said. A Kobold stepped inside the ring, picking up the sword of the dead Kobold. Alverost reached out, and, with a pull, the dead Kobold began to disintegrate into mana.

Axel rubbed the spot he had been stabbed through.

“When did you find time to make swords?” Mark asked.

“I’ve had plenty of time. We don’t sleep.” Alverost paused, considering something. “We will need a full contingent of Kobold’s to visit Longtail, though. Spear training doesn’t begin until tomorrow. The real prize here has been the armor. Come.” Alverost pivoted away to a supply area where more pieces of metal were arranged. Here, on sleek, black, fungiwood dummies were arranged several pieces of gleaming, metal armor. They didn’t cover all of the dummies they sat on top of, instead covering a few vitals.

Plate metal gauntlets covering the top and bottom of a forearm hung from a dummy, held together with pitch black cloth strung through open holes in the metal. The metal was polished and smooth, gleaming in the dim light. There was plate covering the front and back of the dummy, though the sides were exposed.

“Made to conserve metal?” Mark asked, still observing. The design was simple, while at the same time, anything but. It was engraved with endlessly complex swirls and symmetrical patterns that left a regal impression on the armor. To the Kobold’s of the rot city, who even perceived blemish free cloth to be a treasure, this would be mind-blowing. Reinforced, padded cloth and leather covered the soft exposed sides and joints.

The upper and lower legs were covered in plates, padded in the middle.

“Impressive work, Alverost. I would whistle if I could.”

“Yes, it is impressive. Now make 10 more sets of it while I continue overseeing the training.”

As Alverost spoke, some Kobolds entered, carrying bags of metal that they laid out next to a mannequin with no armor.

“So we’re on to visit Longtail in two days?”

“We have to crush all of the other dungeons eventually. The order doesn’t particularly matter, though we should eliminate Big-Horn sooner than later.”

“Hmmm.” Mark replied with a thoughtful sound before staring more at the armor. It was missing something… he was trying to think of what. “Oh duh, helmets!”

“What?” Alverost asked. “Oh shit. Not again… I have to go heal a Kobold. Let me know the progress on Splotch 2.” Alverost pivoted away.

All of the armor sets were missing helmets. Mark focused on one of the Kobold’s making their way out of the room and back to sorting metal. “You! Hold on there.” The Kobold looked around nervously before pointing at herself, as if to say, me? “Yes you! Come here. I need you to be my model for armor!” Mark said.

“Pick up this metal and hold it next to your head. No, not far away, like right next to your head… okay, good!”

Mark began to reshape the metal held adjacent to her head. For now, it would be extremely thin, like a sheet of metal. That was fine, he just needed to shape it while he had the Kobold here. He molded the metal to the contours of her head, shaping it down her reptilian snout. It covered the sides of her head and most of her snout.

“Hmmmm… its missing something. Bring more metal here, please!” Mark guided the Kobold, fusing more pieces of metal to reinforce and refine the design. Sockets opened for the eyes. Inlaid and complex patterns matching the armor emerged in impressions on the armor. “But its still missing something… Ah. Horns. It needs horns.”

Mark added wicked, backwards curving horns from the back of the helmet. They stretched upwards, hollow metal apparatus’s that gave the impression of a real dragon. To finish it off, he added cloth padding inside of the metal helmet.

“Perfect… now…” Mark counted the other sets of armor. “We just need to make… 29 more!”