Varre departed, determined please his lord. Mohg couldn't idle either. It was time to gather power. A blood ball formed in Mohg's hand, arm shaking as he hadn't fully recovered yet. His blood reserves were too low for instant recovery.
The orb began to bubble as Mohg focused his thoughts. But that was all it did.
"Not good enough. It needs to be hotter. MUCH hotter." Mohg strained his mind as his will afflicted the bubbling blood. It churned and spluttered, destabilizing before popping.
Mohg's complexion paled, a unique feat considering how dark his skin was. He sat upon the grassy plains for a few minutes to recuperate before starting his next training. Another blood ball formed. This time however, Mohg willed it to spin, ensuring he could see the motion. 'Grow colder, go still. Lack the energy to move.'
The blood had slowed like Mohg wanted, but it sill rippled under his touch. Again and again he tried, slowing not just the blood, but the very building blocks themselves. Occasionally Mohg would speed up the revolving blood and toss it towards a nearby tree. It merely splattered onto the trunk, slowly absorbed by the wooden pillar.
Mohg had only three goals for his training. The first, was to make the blood so hot that it evaporated, taking control from there. His second objective was to do the opposite: make the blood solid. With it, his capabilities would grow even further. And the last was to make a sharp disk. The fight with Death arms opened his eyes that his moves simply weren't diverse enough. That had to change fast if he were to meet his ambitions.
'I should also work on my stamina. Being drained for using my own power is just ridiculous'
For days, Mohg's routine consisted of running, training, resting and planning. Varre would return by the end of the day with a bloodied bag. Said blood was then converted into new helpers: the blood knights. Draped in red and silent as a grave, they stood at the ready, only to serve Mohg.
And while Mohg trained in near isolation, chaos was taking place elsewhere. A woman in high heels ran under the night, her hand clutching her shoulder. Beneath her fingers, blood ripped, a track of blood left behind her desperate escape.
"Quit running! I can't taste your flesh if you keep leaving!" Chills ran down the lady's spine at the crazed voice. It had all gone so wrong when this lunatic appeared. Her date was the first victim by the villian.. no the MONSTER that was now chasing her.
The woman heard as the air swished by her right side. Without hesitation, she threw herself to the ground, just in time to avoid an elongated blade. The sharp object lodged itself into the alley wall, bits of brick falling loose.
"Leave me alone!" The lady lept to her feet as much as she could, cursing the heels that are slowing her down. Another blade pierced the ground as the voice spoke again. "Argh! I'll get you! Your flesh will be mine! That delectable, sweet, flesh!"
Multiple sounds of pushed air rang out, and before she could react, three blades had found themselves embedded into her limbs. The woman yelled as she was dragged off the ground and turnt around. She had come face to face with what insanity was if made flesh.
What she once thought was blades were actually jagged metal teeth, jagged and twisted in different angles. Three of them held her captive while four others descended into the ground. The man had a buzz cut, yet it contrasted the way he kept himself, his clothes wrinkled and his arms crossed under his armpits, as if giving himself a hug. The lips, pulled taut to the sides with hooks, drew close as the frenzied eyes looked upon it's latest victim.
" FLESH! FEAST! DELICIOUS!" Before the woman could beg for her life, a bladded tooth loped off her head. Like agitated piranhas, the teeth shredded the body, bits of flesh's littering the ground. The man wasted no time, scarfing down as many pieces as he could under moonlight.
"More, MORE! No! Can't stay, hero's might come!" the crazy killer skewered four other pieces before leaping away. It wasn't til an hour later when the heros found what remained of moonfish's latest meal.
"My luminary, I have news to share." Varre kept before Mohg as he continued shaping blood. It was always an honor to bask in his lord's presence, watching as his will bent life esscence to his cause.
" Oh? What is it that you have found?"
" According to what the rabble speak as they go about their lives, there are 3 gangs currently active in the city. Rumors say that two of them are in their own feud. I believe they were the burnt oxes and the stone slammers, Suprisingly innovative names from these naives."
Mohg paused his training as his focus was know on Varre. "What is it that you are proposing?"
Mohg could feel the grin that had spread beneath Varre's mask. " Well, I believe they can become ' well aquianted' in the blood lord's ways."
" hmm.. yes, I suppose that can be arranged. Put your mission on hold, Find all that you can about them and report back to me."
"Thou shall not be disappointed."