The world as a whole considers demons to be evil.
What can you expect from a race that has an inherent ability to return from death?
I won't preach on how we should live and let live or allow the demonic factions free reign on the world, but I refuse to believe a kill on sight order will help the problem.
Modern demons usually were born as T1 imps, where they evolve depending on what sin/vices they gravitate towards. Intellectuals will never reach a consensus on whether sin or vice drives the race, but they tend to be free spirited by nature.
Most all of the early demons would have been hunted and killed when they evolved from halflings, but humanity didn't know about the innate perk they all share.
[Displaced Reincarnation]
Unless killed by special means, a T3 demon will reincarnate within 100 years. 10 years for a T2 demon, and one for an imp. No one has proven how long it takes, or if it's even possible, for a T4 or T5 demon to be reborn, but if it is, it's fairly obvious on how long the max waiting period is.
The location is where the first problem lies. When a demon reincarnates, they can pop out of thin air ANYWHERE. In a bank, in midair, underwater, lost in some underground labrynth, or even in your child's bedroom. It's difficult to ward against their random reincarnations, but with their free spirited nature and lack of fear towards death?
No wonder most of them consider others as prey or lesser creatures. They keep their skills, perks, memories, and affinities at the same level as they were when they die.
No one knows why demons are so different from Gobs, but they should rule the world with their abilities.
Not only could they rule the world, but they desire too as well. But they don't.
Because we are the easiest creatures in the world to enslave.
What should we do about them? I don't know, nor care. It's just too complicated and I'm just glad to be free. Ask Shandalor about politics.
-profile post Evenesca, T4 djinn, demon freed from Maou Maximus' shackles, currently taking refuge with the denizens of the World Tree, 1990 FE.
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Trafaul Lepisosteiformes was feeling a more than a little apprehensive. The atrium that they had stepped into was saturated in some sort of malevolent power.
And he gave this kobold minotaur a way out! The spikey fishman would never understand why others didn't take a way out when it was given to them.
When he was a boy, he spent years enslaved to a tribe of nagas and hoped that any life was better than what he knew.
But this minotaur? Enslaved in some sort of room didn't even fight the corruption. When he charged forward and decimated his innocent, new comrades, he signed his death sentence.
But, when the monster raised a hoof in the air and it started to glow, Trafaul backed the hell away.
His own left hoof flattened on the surface and he channeled his affinity to fire a spike at the ground
with his right hoof, propelling him away with a short powerslide.
BOOM!
Dust, brain matter, shards of rock, limbs and a red mist flew away from the epicenter, peppering the kobolds and proto-Gobs around him.
"Now! He's weakened when he needs to recharge!"
Trafaul didn't even finish saying 'now,' when his bloodthirsty traveling companion propelled himself off the ground with a leap, landing on its shoulders.
Those grey eyes sparked with black death, reminiscent of a real powerhouse.
Those fangs curled into a ghoulish grin spoke of nothing but cruelty.
The whirling dance of crackling blades, shredding through flesh like paper, made his scales stand on end.
Odd freaked him out a little before when he attached himself to the sharkman while tossed along the quick current, but this was more... visceral.
Trafaul didn't have the time to ponder anymore as he unbent his knees and slammed a spike from is head into the furry rat's chest.
The fishman grew spikes out of a few of the knuckles on both hands and started punching with everything he had, but the bastard wouldn't go down!
Then, the lone combatant recovered from his last attack and the fishman noticed that Odd and Dhetta disappear from its sides before he strafed sideways and started clapped his glowing hands together.
Eardrums were shattered and he heard an especially loud growl from Odd before he threw his black, crackling daggers at him, destroying one if it's eyes.
"Massstersss!" he roared before the minotaur tucked it's horns downwards and started charging again.
This time, the blood-drenched creature refused to stop it's charge. The monster ran in a whirlwind, squashing and breaking Trafaul's weaker comrades.
The fishman ran across the room, attempting to intercept it, but it was too fast!
"Odd, we have to stop it!"
His friend leisurely picked up his second, bloody dagger and checked his surroundings before he looked back at him.
Did Odd just roll his eyes at him?
"He's puckered out, give Ratsar over there another 20 seconds or so."
Trafaul grit his teeth. Of course he would fall soon, but innocent people are dieing here because they following him!
He curled his hands into a fist, drawing blood.
[Spike Affinity] major bottleneck reached! Rose from 19.9 to 20.0
Form learned: Drill
"Fine, I'll do it myself!"
The spikes on his knuckles started twisting as his mana dropped faster than it ever had before. He took a deep breath in and whipped his fists towards moving target in quick succession.
"Aaargh!" "Hiiiiiisssss" Thunk! "Bosssss!" THUNK!
Trafaul's jaw dropped in horror! He just injured or murdered almost a dozen of his comrades!
He broke the golden rule, you're never supposed to use new techniques in combat like that!
Trafaul looked over at Odd, who was jogging towards the minotaur's corpse. Was he smirking? But sometimes he's so friendly and talks about Gob rights with a passion! Maybe he follows an [Insane] path. He's never seen a race with his features and never asked.
"Bosssss" a kobold cried out in pain and Trafaul darted to his side.
His arm was hanging by a small piece of skin and his left pectoral was all but decimated by his drilling spike.
"You... You can make it, friend. We just... need a ritual! There's got to be some Power Stones nearby!"
"Bosss..." he weakly whispered.
"Don't give up now!" it was futile and he knew it, but he couldn't help but try to give him hope.
"Your fault," he coughed up a spatter of blood. "Fuck..." The kobolds eyes lidded to a close.
"I'm sorry." Trafaul lamented.
"Fuck... you..."
The fishman sighed. He felt horrible, but death wasnt uncommon in his profession. He had goals to accomplish and wouldn't let anything get him down.
But...
This was the first time he killed with friendly fire.
He felt horrible. A tear drifted down his cheek. Trafaul took a deep breath in, strengthened his resolve, and looked to who was left.
Odd was over there by the corpse. What?
"What the hell are you doing, Odd?"
The Gob (or was he an Enlightened? Trafaul could never tell) shrugged his shoulders as he lifted the bloody pelt of the minotaur that was peppered with holes.
"What? It's cold in here and this is the perfect size."
Odd's hand sparkled a little and he rubbed it against the inside of the fur. Was he using a [Water Affinity] to tan the hide? That shouldn't be possible.
Trafaul ignored him and the crackling of yin lightning as he helped the survivors up. Their forces were a fraction of what they were, and from one enemy that he could have taken alone!
CRACK!
The giant gem on the ceiling broke! The chamber had been well lit, but now? He could barely see his friends by the dim lights attached to the sides of the room.
Then he felt pain.
Soul rending agony pressed from above as if gravity multiplied. He couldn't even hear his companions over the sounds of his own screams.
[Soul] rose from...