Booos Fight?

"I AM TAHNAR! GENERAL UNDER MEHRUNES DAGON! AND I WILL SLAUGHTER YOU HERE WITH THE REST OF MY SLAIN KIN!"

"Uh huh, hey didn't like, twenty other people say that as well? Your 'kin' aren't very good at keeping promises..."

"RAAAAAARGGGHH!"

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Mehrunes Dagon growls under his breath as he observes the battle, clearly, his warriors were far less effective than he'd thought... That, or the World-Hopper was far stronger than he had any right to be.

Perhaps he should have stuck with his 'torture until insanity or compliance plan? Vaermina, despite being an insufferable hag, maybe had a point with his last Champion Silus, who'd been so mentally weak that controlling him was laughably easy.

He thought that having the mortal hunted by all the denizens of his realm would eventually bring him to heel. There was only so much a creature could take before finally succumbing after all, but it seems that he'd miscalculated... The World-Hopper was actually enjoying himself as he slaughtered his slaves.

His original intention was still in effect... Utilise the victories garnered by the mortal to corrupt him, use his rebellion against his rightful owner to gain a firmer grasp on his soul, and manipulate his ambition into a position where serving, temporarily or not, would be the favoured option.

The only probably was how long this would take, and how many of his own slaves would die to bring it to fruition... What point was there to gain a path to Tamriel if he had no army left, or an army that was far too weak to overcome the opposition it would encounter?

This left the Daedric Prince in a bind... The World-Hopper was far more valuable than any other being he possessed, and while he could seemingly resurrect himself at will, Dagon couldn't risk losing such a valuable asset doing something drastic, especially after the large failure...

He wanted to just personally torture the mortal until he gave in, unlike Silus who he'd had tortured by his servants. He knew that such actions could only end in a few ways, some of which would ruin whatever value the mortal had.

He couldn't utilise his ability to traverse realms unabated by the Dragon's barrier if he was insane or brain-dead.

Dagon was also baffled by the mortal's seeming infinite amount of energy and life force, along with the strange magic he wielded. He'd only seen a few magic users do something as ridiculous as conjuring an entire ghost ship, and they were already long dead, legends for the mortals to quibble over the details.

He huffs to himself as he observes his General, Tahnar, get bisected after the mortal teleports behind him. "PATHETIC." he grouses while opening his hand, revealing the soul of Tahnar on his palm.

"M.y-...Lo.rd...."

"YOU HAVE FAILED ME FOR THE LAST TIME, MONGREL."

"N.O-.... PL.EASE..." Tahnar begs, his voice distorted as he tries to force his mind to work despite his recent death.

Mehrunes Dagon's expression doesn't even twitch as he clenches his hand, destroying the soul and storing the essence elsewhere, possibly to be used to create an artifact of some worth... Though, he'd probably need to sacrifice more souls to make anything useful.

He looks back to Michael and finally, a single brow raises in disbelief, as he sees the mortal sitting next to a burning corpse while roasting a Daedroth's leg, showing no reticence to eating a formerly humanoid creature.

"HMM." with that he decides to wait and see how long it'll take until the mortal start showing the effects of his time in the Deadlands... If there's no progress, he'd take matters into his own hands. Literally.

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Michael chews on the roasted leg of the Daedroth, thinking about the strange sensation that'd hit him immediately after the battle... He'd felt something similar yet weaker the first few groups of Daedra he'd slain, but just thought of it as some side effect of Auroth's gift... That or just phantom pains from the torture he'd suffered under the magma...

Now however it was plainly obvious. A niggling sensation that scratched at his mind, as if trying to find a crack, or a way leading within.

His mental defences aided him in both discovering this and defending against it, so he felt that he'd be fine for now. But his real issue was just how long that'd still be the case. Would he be fine a week later? Or god forbid, a year, if he failed to escape by that time?

He didn't know, so his feelings of apprehension and worry for the future had sent him into contemplation. The EXP he was gathering would soon allow him to max out his Kunkka Spirit, so he was hoping the next tier would provide an answer to his situation. That, or give him something to stave off whatever was affecting him.

Michael had to admit that the thought of just killing himself, or allowing himself to die was a seductive one... How many times would he have to die to get more powerful than Dagon? It didn't suggest that there was any limit to the amount of power he could gather...

He quickly strikes down such thoughts while shaking his head however, knowing that such a line of thinking would send him down a spiral he probably wouldn't recover from.

On the issue of this 'feeling' that was encroaching on his mind, there was an obvious 'solution' if you could call it that. Since it only really came up when he wins a battle, he could just flee from every confrontation.

Avoid every fight until he or one of his friends figures out a way to get him out of this hell hole?

Yeah, no. He didn't think his pride would let him do that, plus, the levelling opportunities were hard to miss.

"Fuck it, where's the next fortress? I'm committing fuckin' genocide today!" Michael exclaims while tossing the half-eaten leg to the floor and summoning the Ghost Ship again.