"Yes."

Janette's spirit stopped her next argument in its tracks at his simple, calm response.

“Oh. Ok then. Just so we got that clear. I guess that thing Likes you then, if it's letting you break the laws of life and death." She swooped forward and passed her incorporeal hand through the ring. The attempt made her flinch from it as if she'd been stung.

“Jeez! How the hell did that hurt!? I have no fucking central nervous system!"

He remembered the ring then, and lifted his bloody hand to look at it closer. None of the mess from the orcs he'd disembowelled with his bare fists seemed to have clung to it. It still rested on his finger, shining brightly.

"I think you should probably take that off, Greg. This kind of mojo cannot be good for you."

“It doesn't hurt,” he observed.

“Yeah, well it doesn't hurt to be me right now either, but that sure as hell doesn't mean I'm in the best of health."

"I'LL miss you too much. If you're gone."

Janette's bottom lip quivered upon hearing that, and then her head lowered for a few moments whilst they just remained there. Finally, she looked at him properly again, and seemed to have reached a decision.

"Ok, well if you're going all super saiyan on me, and if I've got a little more time to be with you, then I guess we should go help our friends go kick some ass." She balled her hands into fists and raised one in front of her in a rallying call.

Something inside him changed. The quiet serenity that had descended over him when he had placed the ring on his finger shifted, and then ignited into a hot lust for battle. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt in the proving pits. There was no fear, no frustration or pain.

Instead, there was a simple and pure focus on the thrill of combat. In the past, he had spoken with Algra about how orcs used their inner rage in a fight. She had told him that channelling that emotion in its purest form was a gift granted to only their greatest warriors. He now amended that for her to mean their greatest warriors and barely blooded pups wearing a certain magic ring.

If he was going into battle he would need armour. That was what he had ventured there for, and he spared a glance to where his simple proving armour had been dumped from its rack onto the ground. Frowning, he cast his gaze about for a more suitable alternative until he finally came to look upon the fallen and still-smouldering form of Rolk. The orc had plenty of workable metal covering his enormous frame. It wasn't the best material for what he required, but it would suffice. Calling the minerals from the ground would take too much time.

Lifting his hand, he called the metal to him and it immediately liquidised around its previous owner's body. It didn't melt, for Rolk's corpse was left largely undamaged. It simply changed its nature at the ring-wielder's command, and then followed his summons.

The black, metallic liquid weaved through the air toward him before splashing against his chest and pouring out over his Largely-bare body.

Greaves shaped around his legs, gauntlets formed over his hands and lower arms, pauldrons took shape on his shoulders. The black metal moulded itself in smooth waves across his body, and then took on hard serrated edges along the line of his shins and the edges of his forearms. A helm settled over his head, with a lowered visor and a removable piece that covered his mouth and jaw. Atop the helm, two bat-like wings unfurled and folded back against the sides of his head to keep the armour streamlined. Upon his chest, the liquid shifted until a small, black dragon emerged from within. It released a victorious screech before settling back across the newly-formed chest-plate and stretching out its wings to become the armour's central emblem.

As a final touch, Gregory shifted his attention to a pouch carried by one of the fallen orcs. Again, he lifted his hand, and the pouch flew through the air for him to easily catch it. The cloth disintegrated into nothing, and a number of golden coins spilled from within. They too began to liquidize and hang in the air, along with a number of gemstones. A couple of emeralds and several small sapphires fell to the ground without holding his interest. Only a single gleaming ruby was left resting in the palm of his hand.

The liquid gold swirled around him, passing over the palm of his hand and beginning to glow with the same Luminous power that radiated from the ring. Then, it shifted into a fine thread that darted for the emblem of the dragon upon his chest. It poured into the metal creature's empty eye, filling some abscess within the armour until the last of it disappeared and the eye socket was lined in gold. The ruby then lifted into the air before his eyes, and an unseen force neatly cleaved at its surface until it was able to fit within that socket. The last piece was placed when the ruby was set into the dragon's eye, and began to glow with a red light that resembled the hot coals of a blazing forge.

Content with his work, he nodded toward Janette and turned to move to the defence of the great hall.