Isaiah grumpily followed his new Master.  When Silver Robes had arrived, Master had beckoned for him to follow.  Isaiah had tried, but he had discovered that he could not cross the red circle.  Then Master had spoken to him.

 

"Come out."

 

To his surprise, Isaiah had discovered that he had no choice but to follow the spoken command.  Getting out of the circle had felt like pushing through a wall, but Isaiah had no choice but to continue forward.  Of course, the experience had not been entirely without benefits.  As he was passing through, he had taken some of his Master's magic as their contract allowed.  He had taken half of what he was allowed, and then the full amount again.  Checking his MHR, he saw it sitting at a nice 18, double what he had started with.  

 

Isaiah had also confirmed something vital.  Just like he had suspected, the contract always allowed him to use half of Master's magic.  To test out exactly what that meant, he had grabbed four points, or half what he was allowed.  That meant that his Master's total magic store was 16 points.  Afterwards, however, when he had grabbed all of what the contract allowed, he had gotten six points, or half of the remaining twelve!  Which meant that he was allowed to use half of his Master's current store of magic again and again, down to a single point!  

 

Afterwards, Master had pulled him aside and told Isaiah to only think of him as Master, which was why Isaiah was struggling so much.  It seemed that the system would also reinforce commands made concerning Isaiah's own thoughts!  Master had also asked why Isaiah had drawn from his magic.  Isaiah had muttered some excuse about needing to replenish his health in order to follow the command, and they had moved on.  Since then, Isaiah had been feeling the amount of magic available to him, and it had slowly grown.  It seemed that unlike himself, his master, dammit!  His Master would naturally regenerate magic.  

 

As much as it gnawed at him, Isaiah figured that he really should just give in and think of his Master as "master" without the system's enforcement.  It was really uncomfortable to have his own thoughts messed with, after all.

 

---

 

Marcus nervously followed Judis.  The man had not even asked for an explanation, and instead led him with merely a gesture. Marcus's contract familiar had required more than that.  

 

Marcus couldn't remember anything offensive that he had done, but as they passed the bedrooms, the mess hall, and the kitchen there was really only one place left to go to.  

 

"Elder Brother, where are we going?"

 

"To the arena, where else?"

 

". . . Elder Brother, why are we going there?"

 

Judas slowed his gait before answering, "I suppose that it is just as good for you to know now as it is when you arrive.  I and the other council members have noticed a distinct lack of...perspective in your work."

 

Speeding back up, Judas continued, "We are a demonologist group second, and a revolutionary group first.  The first question that should be on every Initiate's mind is, 'does this make us stronger?'  if not, then there really is no point."

 

"Ah, yes Elder Brother."  Marcus responded.  "This demon can indeed make us stronger!"

 

"Then he should have no problem in the arena."

 

Marcus stuttered, "But, but its potential!  Its only the current strength that is low!"

 

Judas brought them to a full stop.  "Do you remember Brother Achilles? "

 

"N..no.  Should I?"

 

"Neither do most of the new comers.  It is about time for me to make another example, Brother.  Do not test me."

 

---

 

Of course, Isaiah heard what they were saying.  Thinking fast, there was nothing really he could do to prepare for the upcoming fight.  Even if there was, he couldn't do it while he was bound by the command to follow his master.  Well, that was one thing he could take care of.

 

"Master, order me to prepare to fight."

 

Master looked startled, before nodding once.  Isaiah waited.  Master then swallowed, shook his head, and spoke the order.

 

"Prepare to fight."

 

"Master, it would help me if you could replenish your magic now."

 

While Isaiah could just drain the man dry, he preferred to keep that trump card hidden.  Besides, it really would be useful to have a large stash set aside in his magic blood bag.  

 

The man called "Elder Brother" turned to look at Master.  

 

"You made a familiar contract."  

 

It was a statement, not a question.  Nevertheless Master answered.

 

"Y..yes"

 

'Hmm, a stutterer, master is.  Guess I shouldn't judge.'

 

The man continued.  "How much magic does he get?"

 

"Fifty percent"

 

"Fifty percent!  What was the exact wording on the contract?"

 

"Uhh, One Chaos Demon will receive... up to 50 percent of Marcus's magical reserves."

 

As Judas stared, shocked, Marcus hastily added, "He insisted on it!"

 

'Wow master, way to throw me under the bus...whatever a bus is.'

 

Looking at Judas' face, Isaiah decided that his trump card had been discovered.  So he smirked.

 

'What are they going to do, I've got their contract!'

 

Staring at the smirking Imp, Judas smiled.  

 

"On second thought, I think I'll let it live.  Maybe it will be a good influence on you."

 

'Wait, what was the first thought!  I'm already being dragged to an arena, what other horrendous things were you going to do to me!'

 

---

 

Marcus chugged a few mana potions, then instantly felt his reserves get sucked half dry.  Glancing at the Imp's MHR, he noticed that it was a solid 23.  A bit higher than most Imps.  He considered, and chugged a high-quality potion.  The things were damn expensive, and he was going to wake up with a massive headache tomorrow, but it was better than whatever Judas had planned for him if the Imp lost.  Its reserves shot up to 42 as the potion continued supplying Marcus with new mana.

 

Judas stopped at the edge of the arena and whispered to an uninitiated.  The Imp chattered away with a nearby member of its kind.  Imps readily made friends with each other due to their "Clannish Nature" trait.  Marcus shifted his feet, Judas did love to make a point of making others wait.

 

'Should I do that too?  If I did, then research would slow down, which might be Jadas' point.  The man does have an uncanny habit of making a point to everyone around him about everything.'

 

They waited for another five minutes, Judas apparently having some deadline in mind.  Marcus nervously tuned out his chattering familiar.  Didn't he tell the thing to prepare to fight?  Finally, Judas moved.

 

---

 

Isaiah waved goodbye to his new friend.  He felt that it had been a while since he had had a friend.  However, he and the other imp (This one was a Red Demon) had hit it off almost immediately.  The other one had such fascinating stories to tell; about how it injured its wrist in the arena fighting against various beast in the arena, how it had won through various trickeries, and how his master wouldn't let him use Demonic Touch to heal himself because it was an "experiment."  Isaiah could empathize.  Personally, he was starting to feel like his master was pretty dumb, too.

 

Silver Robe had apparently finally finished waiting and was leading master, and by extension Isaiah, again.  Isaiah had not minded the stop, he had made a new friend!  He was starting to think that he might like this new world.  

 

Then the group rounded a corner down some stairs.  His master pointed to a cage.  "Get in."

 

'What, seriously!'

 

Isaiah didn't have a choice though, since the system would force him to obey the spoken words of his "Master" anyways, he got in.  The cage was raised up to a small stone mesa.  Across from him his friend imp sat in a similar cage.  Isaiah waved, only to get a scathing glare in response.  

 

'Uh oh.'

 

Above him, in a sort of balcony, Master and Silver Hood appeared.  The cage doors were raised.

 

Master shouted out. "Kill him!"

 

There was no need to ask who, and the system didn't let the ambiguity about it stop itself from forcing Isaiah forward.  

 

'There's no way I could fight like this!'

 

Trying to outrun the pressure the system put on him, Isaiah leapt forward, trying to claw his opponent.  The other Imp proved its experience, however, and managed to duck out of Isaiah's reach before scoring a hit of its own.  Isaiah screeched as three parallel gashes appeared across his side.

 

Warning, you have received six points of damage, MHR 36/∞

 

Isaiah spun around, clawing wildly to ensure that the other imp did not latch onto his back.  He saw a flicker above his head before a clawed toe dug deeply into his eye.  Isaiah backpedaled, reaching one arm up to cover his new hole.  Looking up, blood dripped down his face as the other imp now stood confidently in front of him.

 

'Okay, so he's injured in one wrist.' Isaiah saw him limping on his right.  'He's trixy, so that means that the real injury is probably his left!'

 

Darting forward, Isaiah angled right, which brought him to his opponent's left.  He threw out a claw, before the other imp disappeared right in front of his eyes!  Isaiah glanced around quickly; left, right, up... suddenly, he felt claws dig deep into his throat as the other imp re-appeared right in front of him!  

 

Kill him.

 

Unable to run away, Isaiah raised his own claws and sunk them into his opponent's flesh.  The feel of tearing flesh and the sound of snapping bone gave Isaiah major shivers, even in the middle of his fight, but the system was relentless in forcing him to continue his assault.

 

Slowly, after what seemed like an eternity to Isaiah, the other imp fell.

 

You have slain a Red Demon Imp!

 

Isaiah sat back, exhausted.  He noticed an entire slew of messages he hadn't even seen during the fight crowding at the edge of his vision.  

 

'So you can't spam your opponent's sight while fighting.'  

 

Isaiah was distracting himself from what he just did and he knew it.  Mechanically reaching forward, Isaiah touched his friend.  Not quite crying, apparently demons aren't allowed tears, Isaiah activated Demonic Touch, sucking out the MHR that made up his friend's body.  There wasn't much left.

 

Turning, Isaiah glared at Master and Silver Hood.  He already had the means to make Master pay, and soon, he would make them both suffer.

 

---

 

Marcus danced around, excited.  His familiar had won!  He wasn't wrong about its potential!  He turned around to see the glaring face of Elder Brother Judas.  He then recoiled swiftly, he had never seen the Elder Brother look so mad.

 

"What, was that?"

 

"I..I..."

 

"I asked you, What.  Was.  That?"

 

Marcus gulped.  In a small voice he muttered, "it won."

 

Judas scoffed, "Yes, after receiving three times the damage it dealt.  Any familiar should have won that fight without injury, especially knowing what that imp knew."  He shook his head.  "Still, you're not fundamentally wrong, the imp did win.  Guess you must have learned something."

 

Judas stalked off into the dark.  Marcus didn't follow him.  Turning around, he saw the imp glaring at him.  Its newly healed eyes glowed dimly in the dark, and despite the contract protecting him, Marcus felt his back turn cold.