"A mere child dares talk to me in this manner? In my world, I beat the elves down, beat them into submission, and made them my slaves... Many have come and they have all lost! You are no exception!" Derik growled as he clasped his hands together and his aura exploded violently, shattering the branches about a hundred meters around him instantly.
At this point, Derik couldn't help but acknowledge something he has refused to in a long while. The death magic is incomplete and weak without external forces. No matter how much he would love to deny it, Derik couldn't help but admit that he only got so far because he had the ability to steal the power of all those he has killed. Or at least the power of all those who died and entered his underworld.
