"How do ya know I ain't gonna get hit a little too hard and just die," said Azhar to Li.

Old Thane charged and swung at Azhar, and the hinterlander barely dodged by ducking and rolling again.

"I said I would try me best to not kill you," said Old Thane. "And you have little time to worry about anything other than the fight before you, boy."

"Hells, guess I gotta do this, then."

Azhar grimaced as Old Thane barreled towards him again. Li nodded in approval as Azhar sidestepped another of the old man's blows and then landed a solid punch at his side. Old Thane absorbed the impact with a smile before he lashed out like a wild beast, grabbing Azhar's arm with an iron vicegrip.

Old Thane was right. He had no real martial arts skills. His punches were heavy and wild, not at all controlled. He had no sense of footwork. But what he did have was monstrous speed, strength, and toughness on top of an almost animal instinct in knowing exactly when and where to move.

Li could see Azhar's skin tearing as Old Thane's hands, conditioned to be hard like rock, grated against the ranger's flesh like a meat grinder.

Azhar took this chance to kick Old Thane's face. A leather boot sole crashed into the old man's face.

"How do ya like that?" said Azhar with a smile. When he withdrew his foot, there was revealed Old Thane's face, a little dirty with a boot mark but unharmed. What was more threatening was the malevolent glare seared upon it.

"You still think this a game, boy?" Old Thane set his jaw.

Li blinked as he heard Azhar scream.

The ranger stumbled backwards, blood spurting from the open shoulder joint where Old Thane had torn his arm straight off. Had his other arm worked, he would have tried using it to staunch the bleeding, but because it hung limp, blood flowed from the grievous wound like water spurting from an open faucet.

The red pattered on the grass, and Li glanced down to see that the wyrm, instead of feeling excited from the scent of blood, had cowered further into his legs. He realized it was not because she had lost her bloodlust, no, it was because she could not ever imagine moving even an inch closer to the monster known as the Bloodfist.

"To fight is to kill. To fight is to survive. To fight is to prove you are worthy to live." Old Thane looked at Azhar's arm held in his hand, scoffing at it. "You are not worthy."

With a growl, Old Thane dashed forwards and slammed the dismembered arm straight across Azhar's chest like a bat, knocking the ranger on his back.

Azhar did not get up, his breathing now faint as the blood loss and shock set in.

Old Thane grunted as he tossed the arm to Azhar's body. He turned to Li with a nod.

Li waved his hand.

Green tendrils of healing magical energy shone from Azhar's shoulder socket, reaching out for the torn off arm and attaching it back into place. A general shimmer of emerald magic washed over him, healing everything else.

Old Thane glanced at the blood drenching his hands with an almost annoyed glare. He flicked his hands down with a precise and quick motion, flinging excess blood down to the forest floor.

Li had an idea that Old Thane had been strong. Not only because the of the old man's many tales, but it was also easy enough to tell from his status. He was level 55, the highest out of any human that Li had encountered so far. Even the duchess's golden-armored personal guard were level 50 at best.

Old age had not lowered his level, which did make sense. Levels were meant to be a crystallization of experience, after all. What age had down was to deteriorate all his physical stats immensely to the point that though he certainly knew an impressive array of class skills and abilities, he did not meet the stat requirements to use them anymore.

His body made younger like this, those restrictions were lifted, laying bare to the world the Bloodfist once more, and that moniker was very fitting.

It dawned on Li why Old Thane, a war hero, had no real visitors and friends. Certainly, it was because the old man closed himself off, but it was also because his reputation preceded him. His title of "Bloodfist" had been built atop a mountain of corpses, and that mountain, even now, warded away the common man from the farm.

Azhar stood up again, and Li inspected the ranger. Li would not have put it against the ranger to give up the training at this point. He could quit at any time, after all. This level of sheer brutality he would have to face was akin to torture.

But Azhar smiled, his teeth bared in an almost crazed grin as he stood up to Old Thane.

"They don't call ya the Bloodfist for nothin', huh?" Azhar crouched down, getting into a fighting position. "Bout' time I get serious, then."

Old Thane's glare twisted into a grin. Their grins were identical, fueled by a drive that bordered on sheer insanity. "I knew I was not in the wrong to choose you. This feeling of blood on my fists. Of beating and crushing. How I missed it. If you respect me, boy, then do not fall so easily again."

Li sat back as he watched the two fight again, ready to heal Azhar at a moment's notice. In the meanwhile, he communed with Zagan.

'So, what exactly did you do?'

'You recall whence we first met?'

'When you were holed up in that bandit's body? Yeah.'

'Then you will understand. Heralds such as my personage are capable of granting strength to mortals based upon the sin that we embody. I am the herald of greed, and to all foolish desires of man that yearn and want beyond their means, I can grant.'

Li nodded. This was a lore based power, not an official spell or skill. Demons, like in classical mythology, could form pacts with mortals and grant, in a limited capacity, wishes at a cost.

'Won't this cost the old man's soul?'

'Nothing so extreme. The power my personage bestows upon the aged human is temporary, fueled only by mine own magical reserves, though I still use his greed as a catalyst for this magic. To affect this reversal of aging permanently, then he must give up his soul or become my host.'

'I see. Greed, though, huh? I didn't expect the old man to be particularly greedy about anything.'

'The aged human is not what the rest of the humans would call a 'good man' by nature. I have glimpsed his soul, and it is more beast than man. His whole life, he has been a monster playing at being a human. The burdens of mortal aging have made that act all the more easy to uphold, but there are times he wishes to return to his natural state.'

'And that's considered greed? He just wants to be himself.'

'According to these flimsy mortal laws and rules, yes. To return to his natural state is to harm those around him, for how can it be that a monster lives among men? There is no doubt that his fists will draw much blood and cause much strife. It is selfish greed to yearn for that which he understands satiates himself at the cost of others' lives.'

Zagan watched as Old Thane caught Azhar with a heavy punch to the stomach, probably bursting something inside on top of cracking the ribs. Old Thane stood over Azhar's prone and still body with his fist raised but controlled.

'But he has well and truly buried this nature of his, such that I hesitate to even call it his nature anymore. Even now, he reigns in his savagery. He understands that this is simply a momentary indulgence made possible through the cogs of fate perfectly aligning this training for him. Once it is over, he will give all this up with neither regret nor second thought.'

"Good!" roared Old Thane.

Li watched as Old Thane stepped back, blood and clear fluid dripping from his right eye. The eye had been crushed, and Li could see the culprit as Azhar's bloodied finger.

Azhar limped, a black bruise flowering at his side while his dead arm was twisted completely backwards, shattered shoulder bone jutting through the flesh.

"Good," repeated Old Thane as the blood streamed down his face. He licked his lips clean of the crimson liquid. "You understand a little. To fight is to survive. To kill. There are no rules. No dancing. Only the killer and the killed."

Old Thane charged forwards and crashed a meteoric punch into Azhar's face. The ranger was simply too injured to dodge, and the brick of a fist cracked into his face. The sound of cracking bone echoed in the air as Azhar slammed onto his back again, his nose ground up into dust, every single one of his teeth shattered, his jaw broken and hanging loose.

Li waved his hand, continuing Azhar's suffering.

Azhar stood up, healed, his teeth clenched as he made a fist again, getting into a fighting stance.

"Use your magic," said Old Thane. "Use your skills. Use everything you have to best me."

Azhar raised a brow, and the old man continued.

"You have learned the nature of a fight. No rules. No laws. Do not make me beat that lesson into you once more." Old Thane smiled eagerly. "Though I would gladly take the chance to shatter your face again."

Azhar nodded, the eagle tattoos on his back glowing with red outlines of power.