Diego hissed, that name — Maru — lately had been in his mind and mouth far too often, echoing like a curse he could neither silence nor swallow. Though he longed to kill his rival, his nemesis, and he could now that he was a soul vampire, an entire rank above Maru, he restrained himself. Not yet. Desire burned in his veins, but patience was the sharper blade.
He needed Maru alive until the debt was paid, until the secrets he sought were wrested from trembling lips. Only then, when the balance was settled, would Diego grant Maru the mercy of death, a mercy wrapped in cruelty, inevitable and final.
Diego shot a glance at his major officials, a few meters walking behind him and the death knight. His gaze lingered, inevitably, on the nameless slave — the skeleton knight — whose ambition, promising skill, and unwavering loyalty had begun to shine like a dark jewel in Diego's court. The Skeleton knight wore a black assassin suit, not of Darkovian custom, but taken from an unfortunate soul who had dared to draw Diego's ire.
The elf had lost his life, of course, but Diego had kept the suit, not as a memento, but because he admired the craftsmanship. Even without humor in his veins, Diego could not allow such artistry to be wasted or destroyed. To him, such beauty was to be upheld, and this suit, stitched with silent menace, was now reborn as the armor of a loyal servant, a shadow bound to his will.
The Skeleton knight had accepted the mantle, and with it, the solemn promise to rise to Diego's towering expectations. Diego observed him for a while, sensing faintly that soon the knight would prove his worth, and the truth of Diego's decision would be revealed. If the Skeleton failed, the outcome was inevitable — death, whether in battle or by Diego's own merciless hands.
Yet Diego's gaze carried a strange weight, a knowing patience, as though he already foresaw the trial ahead. Finally, he tore his eyes away from the knight and cast them farther back, noting another figure of significance, another presence demanding his cold attention in the shadowed procession.
Diego looked farther behind, taking notice of his swelling army. His initial armada, once weary, had rested and now marched with renewed resolve, their eyes burning with hope in his grand design. Even some servants and officials from the families of his household — the Qanans — had chosen to follow, released by their masters and accepted by Diego without hesitation.
Each addition strengthened the force he commanded, multiplying its might many times beyond what he had wielded against the elf. What had begun as a fractured band was now transforming into a disciplined legion, bound by ambition, fear, and the promise of victory under Diego's ruthless vision.
Yet one thought gnawed relentlessly at Diego's mind: no matter how vast his army grew, they remained shadows compared to Maru's officials and servants in skill, resources, and combat prowess. It was undeniable — ten of Diego's soul beings, whether Skeleton knights, liches or apprentice soul vampires, would be required to bring down a single counterpart from Maru's ranks.
Skeleton liches, apprentice vampires, even the lowest of Maru's warriors carried a power that eclipsed Diego's own. The imbalance was stark, a reminder that Maru's forces commanded strength greater in every way, a superiority that mocked Diego's ambition and whispered of inevitable reckoning.
Noting this, Diego realized a deep flaw in the way his people commanded their servants and officials. They treated them merely as subordinates, never allowing them to reach the fullest of their abilities. Progress was stifled, resources withheld, and potential smothered beneath rigid hierarchy.
In doing so, they reduced their servants to something common and cheap, indistinguishable from the retainers of lesser families or even from wandering soul beings without allegiance. Diego's mind sharpened with disdain; he saw clearly that this negligence was not only wasteful but dangerous, a weakness that left his forces brittle against Maru's superior command.
It wasn't that Diego's servants and officials were weak — no, they were far from weak. They were among the strongest warriors and liches, their battle‑hardened minds sharpened daily by the relentless struggle for survival. Skilled with a variety of weapons, they were most ruthless with their own hands and bodies, sometimes tearing pieces from their skeletal frames to fashion improvised blades or jagged tools to strike an enemy.
Resourceful, brutal, and unyielding, they embodied resilience. Yet, with the insights Diego had gained from the battle of the sand‑woman, the throne room guardians, and Maru's emissary, temporary master of the castle, he saw clearly that his army and officials could be more — greater, sharper, and far beyond the limits imposed upon them.
Diego faced forward once more, glaring at the injured death knight, ensuring he remained within his field of view and that the death knight knew he was being watched. He split his mind, surrendering a portion to control his motor functions, especially his sight, feeding him every detail gleaned from the death knight's movements.
His perception sharpened, alert to sudden shifts, wary of escape attempts. Meanwhile, another part of his mind turned inward, probing for solutions, researching ways to elevate his officials and servants to new heights — heights that would surpass even the formidable power commanded by Maru's forces. In this duality of vigilance and vision, Diego walked, predator and strategist, weaving survival with ambition.
Although Diego detested Maru, he had to admit that some of his techniques worked — particularly the power hierarchy. Diego had never truly taught much about it, relying instead on the original ranking system: weak class, low class, and so forth, assigning resources to help servants climb toward higher ranks. Maru, however, went further.
He issued Talent Bouts among soul beings to uncover the uniqueness of each servant, testing their limits in brutal contests. He planned weekly trainings, relentless drills designed to push his servants past exhaustion, grooming them into sharpened weapons. Diego loathed Maru, yet he could not deny the effectiveness of such ruthless discipline, a system that forged strength from suffering and loyalty from ambition.
While Diego wasn't exactly going to copy Maru, he now saw the value that doing all those things brought to Maru's officials, they were at the top and over top in terms of their skills, ability and combat prowess, so his mind was open to incorporating a few of such methods into his training regime not just handing energy bars off to his servants and officials to facilitate their growth.