Marek stared down the imp gnome elder.
Two old war hounds staring at each other was never a recipe for something good happening in the world, but this time Marek and the younger elder, who was called Mark, glared at one another.
Sure, the imp gnome elder couldn't turn into a squirrel with shark teeth, but that didn't mean he couldn't take a broom and actually swat the squirrel into the nearest tree.
He could, after all, turn into a human, which was always better than a squirrel with shark teeth.
Marek, on the other hand, was a known war hound.
He knew for a fact that if he wanted something done, he had to do it himself, and so he jumped, karate chopped the imp gnome elder over the head and then sunk his teeth into his neck.
It was an old ritual. A ritual which Marek had done many a time.
A ritual he had invented himself.
As the gnome imp elder fell to the ground, dead, his blood spilling on the ground, the imps knew that their peaceful days were over.
Marek clamped on top of the gnome imp elder and put a hand over his chest.
"There are two types of gnomes in the world!" Marek said, as his opponent's corpse cooled under his feet. "Gnomes who have power, and gnomes who are too afraid to use that power! That is why we are so small! That is why we are so weak!"
A soft murmur spread among the gathered gnomes. The imp gnome elder had been the only pillar they had known for the past couple of years.
And now he was dead.
"We don't embrace the power," Marek said, his eyes giving off an eerie red light. "And so, the power does not present itself to us!"
The imp gnomes looked at one another. They looked at the dead elder.
And then thought as one that they didn't need this.
They didn't need this squirrel who thought himself a giant, and they didn't need the other gnomes.
Or the other imp gnomes who could turn themselves into wolves and bears and rabbits for some reason.
Although if the imp gnomes had to be honest, if a rabbit suddenly became scary, then the world was probably going to end soon.
As soon as the collective hive mind of the evil gnomes thought that, one imp gnome bunny shifter showed his shark-like teeth and his red eyes began to shine.
The evil gnomes made a step back.
They had been chosen from the spirits above as part of the group of the evil gnomes, but even in that group there was inequality.
And so the evil gnomes who couldn't turn into animals thought that this was all getting too complicated.
They ran.
Their legs, human legs, letting them run faster than their animal counterparts could follow.
For… the shifter gnomes might be able to turn into animals, yes, but that did not mean that they could turn into big animals.
Peter had been kicked in the kneecaps by a dwarf deer, and what exactly he was trying to do with the dwarf deer and how much meat he was going to get or at least hoped he was going to get from the animal was just left up to interpretation.
0000
Peter was curled up onto Asmodeos, petting the long white strands and thinking that now that Asmodeos was finally back to being a necromancer, they could get a real quest.
They could actually get money, maybe even the promised five gold coins, which, if Peter had to be honest, weren't going to be happening any time soon.
"Peter, this is going too fast," but Asmodeos had all the power.
He liked to cuddle with Peter, but not much else. After all, they needed to train, and now that their training pendant was not going to be an option, they needed to actually train in real time.
Peter, for all that he now could actually run a lap, wasn't very fast.
Asmodeos, for all that he actually could kick, wasn't really strong.
They were both weak, and it was time for them to start the main quest…
"Did someone say main quest?" Mike flew out of the nothingness and appeared before the two adventurers.
He, much like a certain fairy who followed a certain elf, was incredibly annoying, but nothing could be done about him.
He presented the two with a system screen.
It was high time they forgot about the gnomes, Mike thought.
They were going to fight against one another, blood was going to be spilled, and no one was going to get their daily dose of hot chocolate.
But such was life.
On the system screen, the two adventurers read the following message, which was actually more of a threat and a command than a simple quest:
"Go to the nearest dungeon, kill 100 slimes, sell the nucleus for money.
PS: You don't have stamina, you don't have strength, and it is very questionable if you even have intelligence.
So, start to grind!
Because if you don't grind, life will grind you down.~"
Everything was good in theory, but the thing about theory was, that practice usually proved it wrong.
For as soon as they made it to the cave, they saw that Mike had played them.
There were many gnomes there: imp gnomes, dark gnomes, even normal green-haired gnomes!
They were all killing slimes.
They were so successful, in fact, that they had killed all the slimes, and now they weren't any remaining. If it wasn't for the goo which was covering their clothes, Asmodeos would have asked them if they had been making Jell-o.
Asmodeos narrowed his eyes. He was back to being a necromancer. He had never really thought much about his hero honor to begin with if he had to be honest.
And so, he made a couple of steps towards the cave and then touched the grass.
It died.
The sick necromantic mana spread towards the cave.
It was a good warning for the gnomes.
"We fed you. We washed your linens. We washed your underwear. And we even mended your trousers. Now, please give us all the nucleus and get lost."
Asmodeos thought that he, as someone who had the upper hand, didn't need to negotiate.
That was a big mistake.
Peter stepped before him, trying to defend him with a broom.
He didn't want to kill those to whom he had given hot chocolate but an hour ago.
Peter believed that this was karma. He had tried to be a hero, he had tried to be kind and just, he had tried to do something with his life.
It was not meant to be, and so Peter raised his broom high and looked at the skies above.
"I quit! I had enough of being a hero! I work with a necromancer! I will help him, no matter the cost!"
The spirits above shook their collective heads, then decided that, well, Peter hadn't actually done a very good job anyway, and so they stripped away his hero powers.
Deciding that if Peter wanted to be a villain, then he should be allowed to crush his head against the wall.
And so, Peter's armor turned black with bronze ornaments, and he decided to swat the gnomes with his broom.
That didn't help him, for the gnomes had already used Mike to sell all the nucleus.
He had to wait for them to regen. But with this terrible act of swatting gnomes with a broom, he had made enemies, and now, for the first time in forever, Peter knew that he had done something wrong.
The problem with that was that he was fed up with being a hero. Had quit even. Now he didn't care.
The gnomes cared, but that is just a problem for the future.