No, but she does not hold your attention for now.

As you watched the scene before you, the dark energy within you began pulsing urgently. Asta opened her mouth, apparently about to speak, but anything she said fell to the white noise, your eyes trained on the dwarf bleeding out before you. That same urge you had felt before arose within you, that craving for increased power. However, unlike with the naiad and fairy before, there was no way to obtain Rolf's energy and keep him alive, at least not that you cared to entertain. The Artifact made it clear in your heart and mind that there was only one option. The dwarf is clearly bleeding out and quickly, considering his size. You have little time to make your decision. Your gaze seems tinted with a deep sanguine red.

Then, it strikes you that maybe, just maybe, this would be the ultimate **** against the self-inflated, conceited, egocentric axeman. A sinister grin twists over your lips. Asta falters, silencing as she takes a step back. You step forward, her steps responding by hurriedly scuttling backwards, stumbling slightly. However, her nervousness is unfounded, your eyes never once leaving Rolf's dying form. You kneel at his side, staring directly into his glaring eyes, the **** facade of defiance betrayed by his obvious agony and flaring nostrils. He is afraid, though he would never admit it.

With an almost cheery smirk, you say not a word, shifting slightly.

Rolf lets out a harsh grunt, eyes snapping wide as he turns his gaze towards his chest. Asta gasps, and you can hear her stumbling back into a wall. You do not look away from Rolf's face as you hold the clawed fingers of your right hand piercing his heart, deep within his chest. Through the corner of your eye, you see a blue light coalescing around your hand, rising from your foe to lick at your gauntleted arm almost like flames. There is a distinct warmth to the feeling, and you understand on an almost instinctual level what is happening.

Rolf himself begins to fade, though the process is quite slow. A red light shines beyond the azure glow of the dwarf's life **** as the Artifact begins to feed. You feel the energy seeping into you at a moderate pace, as if the sentience within the gauntlet is struggling to hold back from devouring the life beneath it all at once, understanding that your still mostly mortal form would not be able to handle such an influx of energy. Your smirk twists once more, regaining its sinister air as Rolf looks back to you. His eyes somehow manage to widen even more at what he sees; though you are unaware, your eyes have shifted to an almost glowing red, drowning out any green that may have remained.

"Tell me," you begin, your voice low, harsh, calm, "how does it feel to know that your strength is going to aid this 'weakling' to get his ****?" The dwarf says nothing, nostrils flaring more rapidly as he struggled to breathe. "How does it feel knowing that your life is giving me power, making me stronger?" Still, he does not respond. Your eyes narrow, your smirk dropping slightly. "Answer me," you growl from deep within your throat, tightening your grip on his heart slightly, piercing it more deeply. He grunts, wincing.

"Damn you," he muttered, managing to glare at you once more. You grin at him once more.

The energy you are absorbing begins your next transformation. The black metal encompassing your lower arm begins spreading, crawling its way up to your shoulder until it seems like your upper arm is covered with chainmail mesh. As it reaches your shoulder, it continues to spread, forming an elaborate shoulder plate, ending close to your neck as it melds slightly forwards and back, blending over your right collar bone and shoulder blade. In the process, it forces your dislocated shoulder back into place, but the adrenaline rush which accompanies the sensation of absorbing the energy drowns out any pain you would otherwise feel. Your height increases once more, gaining an additional three inches in your legs. You are acutely aware of the strength seeping into your muscles as the dwarf below you evanesces more rapidly, the Artifact losing its patience with consuming his life energy. By the time it is done, you know that you will have all the great strength of the dwarf behind your movements. A deep laugh erupts from your lungs, echoing unbridled throughout the caves and caverns around and behind you. The darkness, the malevolence of the sound should unnerve you, terrify you, even. You are too focused on the nearly-vanished form of Rolf to notice-- or care.

Silently, Rolf fades into oblivion, the gauntlet absorbing the remaining energy that was his life. Between the knuckles of your pointer and middle fingers on your right hand, a glowing gem appears imbedded within the gauntlet, glowing a dim blue which echoes the mythril of his axe. All that is left to suggest that he had existed is his blood, and...

You stand, turning to look at Asta. She is barely on her feet, pressing tightly against the wall. Her knuckles are white for how tightly she grips Rolf's axe, clutching it desperately to her chest.

"J-Jacen..." she barely breathes, staring at you with wide eyes. "Wh-what did you...? H-how... did... you...?"

As you stare down at her, you notice things that you would never have considered before. Her frame is stout, as is typical of her race, and she lacks the curves of the naiad and mud golem you had already faced. However, she has a face you can only really describe as "cute"-- surprisingly delicate features, a slightly up-turned nose, large eyes of a lovely light green shade. She trembles viciously, tears welling in her eyes. Clearly, she is heartbroken; she had just witnessed the young knight she had held such affection for act against all of the reasons why she had liked him in the first place. You feel the other urge that had struck you with your prior two conquests arise again (double entendre intended).

You move closer slowly, feeling a rush of excitement from the way she cringes, shrinking away from you, seemingly trying to sink into the wall behind her. Your heart races, her terror sending a rush of blood below your belt. You held this power over her. Clearly, something about your growing dark power makes this fear a major turn on for you. However, as the last of Rolf's life **** settles into your being, your head begins to clear, just enough for you to question your reaction to the situation. Why are you creeping upon her like a predator preparing to pounce on its prey? Why are you allowing your lust to overtake you again? You really have nothing against her; she may have known your intended fate, but she was never in favor of it. You have no qualms with her; "****" on her would be hollow.