So that's his game. He thinks that by dangling something I really want in front of me, I'll become his obedient dog. He's right; I do want power, but not if I have to bend over for it.
"What would I have to do for this power?" I asked.
A creepy smile spread across his rather ugly face.
"Nothing much. I only want you to kill my enemies along with yours."
His enemies? The only enemies a god can have are other gods.
"You expect me to fight other gods?"
"I expect you to protect yourself. Whoever is after me is also after you," he shot back. "Don't worry; if you continue developing yourself and crafting weapons, you'll be fine. But there's something else I want to give you."
He limped over to me, dragging one foot that looked unwilling to move. His hands were blackened, probably from years of crafting. He then pulled out a knife fastened to his belt and proceeded to create a slit in the palm of his hand.
