《Fleshcrafting Technomancer》


 1 Prologue

    "Your arm is unsteady because your aim is unclear; you do not shoot the deer, you shoot survival."


    The mild voice of a handsome middle-aged man echoed beside a teenage boy. The two wore their jet-black hair in the dreadlocks typical of their tribe, with cold blue eyes showing hints of similarity. They hid behind the bushes of a deciduous forest, eyes locked on a white-tailed deer trotting without any knowledge that its life neared its end.


    The teenage boy''s hands bent a bow, arrow ready to fire. However, they trembled, making the arrow dangle and the string quiver. The middle-aged man initially believed the boy floundered due to the deer being his first kill. But when he lowered the bow and shook his head, he sensed something else.


    "Dad, why kill one that doesn''t harm? It''s incorrect. I''d rather shoot a wolf, or slay a tiger." Again, the boy spoke words that left his father perplexed.


    At the age of 12, talks of slaying wild beasts should have reeked foolishness. But in the boy''s tone, there was an uncanny composure that made his elders unable to take him as the child he should have been. Although he often tried to restrain that trait, it didn''t escape his father''s trained eyes.


    "Kilian, the first rule of survival is to understand that fairness is a fool''s yearning. Nature is the mother of injustice," the man began as his lips curled in an amused smile. "To us, carnivore meat is not merely unpalatable; it''s also toxic and needlessly dangerous..." The man, Viktor, then proceeded with explaining all the reasons why herbivore meat ruled the market, making Kilian close his eyes for an instant.


    When he again opened them, there was no hesitation within his gaze or stance. He armed his bow, fired the arrow, and it hit the deer right in its brain, killing it on the spot. There was no surprise in Viktor''s eyes. Kilian may be an odd teenage boy, but he undoubtedly was a talented warrior.


    Their tribe was split into two categories, warriors and farmers. Farmers tended to the land, warriors cleared nearby wild beasts, deterred bandits, and hunted for pelt and meat. In the backwater corners of the Kingdom of Orloth, such tribal divisions were the norm.


    But while his father felt no shock, as he rose to step toward the deer and hurl it at his father, Kilian couldn''t help but inwardly sigh. An adult male deer weighed 136 kg on average. But he could toss such a beast without breaking a sweat. Although he''d grown accustomed to his strength, for a former earthling such as himself, the change was indeed astounding.


    Viktor was right, Kilian didn''t fit his age, because he wasn''t his age. Born in one of the darkest corners of Chicago, he survived the streets by joining a gang but fortunately grew without gutting another man. At the age of 15, an operation allowed him to make the acquaintance of an art forger, who soon recognized his astounding talent in the craft -- and brought him into a "classier" form of crime.


    Specialized in paintings, it only took Kilian three years to make a name for himself in his criminal ring, and obtain the approval of his superiors. Increasingly, they bypassed his mentor to feed him tasks of greater importance, making his pockets swell, and his mentor''s hatred rise accordingly.


    Alas, as a perpetual loner, Kilian lacked connections and, therefore, had no protection. It didn''t take long before he found himself framed of the robbery of an ancient hammer and his skull punctured by a lovely bullet. His brain debris and blood plastered the floor. The worms buried him¡ªthe typical dog-death, really.


    Not that he cared, life on Earth was dull and uninteresting. Conning those so-called art collectors soon became a tedious matter. The majority were nothing more than blind donkeys ager to hoard the artist''s fame. And they dared discuss art appreciation, ha.


    But never would Kilian''s mentor expect that the very hammer he snuck into his belongings would turn into his ticket for a second life. The hammer swallowed Kilian''s soul and vanished alongside him. Kilian awoke as a swaddled baby, in a medieval household, with no hammer in sight...his following cries could raise the dead.


    It had now been 12 years, and Kilian had long-since learned to adapt to his new environment. Although in this backwater tribal village, men and women alike slaved their days away, the people were warm and supportive, across the population of 300 denizens, fights rarely broke out. For a place where fierce warriors abounded, this was indeed refreshing.


    The first oddity Kilian realized upon landing in this world, was the change in the air. The air was not only void of pollution, but left a sweet aftertaste. They called it Dra. To the people of this world, Dra was the source of life, the foundation of all things. But more importantly, the foundation of magic. For the people of these remote lands, magic was a foreign concept best left in the hands of the aristocracy. Yet, it shaped the lives of all.


    In this remote tribe of medieval technology, the average man''s lifespan was 85 years, beating even the 21st century United States. But when compared to the physical changes Dra triggered, that lifespan was barely noticeable.


    Although Kilian was a freak among his peers, the average adult hunter could easily lift 250 kg, and they didn''t spend their days breaking their back on impossible weight lifting. In retrospect, beasts were also much stronger. However, humans proportionally benefited a lot more from Dra.


    Unsurprisingly, those who could control Dra ruled the world, they built society around Dra control, with magocracies, magus-kings, and nobles dominating the land. In those grand cities, backed by magical advancement, the technological level had reached a height that left Earth in shame. DNA modification and genetic enhancement were old news.


    But to the current Kilian, none of that mattered. This world might have been impressive, full of wonders and opportunities, but it couldn''t beat the warmth of a functional home. Kilian always believed that God must have taken pity of him. After all, if reincarnation and magic were feasible, how could he doubt the existence of God...or Gods for that matter?


    This was his opportunity to lead a proper life, laugh heartily, seed a few lasses, and live as a man rather than a cadaver on autopilot¡ªor so he thought. When the smoke clouds billowed from his tribe''s location, when they covered the sky with soaring flames and fluttering embers, for the first time in 12 years, Kilian wondered if he''d not been too naive.


    Viktor''s eyes widened in disbelief, and instantly, he dropped the deer resting on his shoulder, unsheathed his ax, and without turning toward Killian said, "Hide and wait for me, I will find you."


    With those words, Viktor stomped his foot and turned into a blur as he shot toward the tribe. Viktor had always been too strong. Although he attempted to conceal his true skills, an elephant couldn''t hide among ants. Kilian often doubted the origins of this good father of his, but never raised the question.


    Better, he rarely went against his will. But today, he couldn''t obey.


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    "Our tribe is on fire, my mother''s fate unknown, and he wants me to take a stroll in the woods? Yeah, right." Kilian grumbled and rushed after his father. The speed difference between them ensured Kilian couldn''t follow Viktor''s trail. In fact, although the village was 10 kilometers away, at Viktor''s full speed, reaching it wouldn''t take a minute.


    For Kilian, however, it was another story. Even if he now ran at Usain Bolt''s top speed, it would still take him 15 minutes. In that timeframe, a whole lot could occur. But without a better option, he could only run, and so run he did.


    As his mind locked on the flames ahead, even the alarming clatter of his footsteps and the gush of wind slamming his face escaped his usually acute hearing. He ran with desperate vigor, leaving the woods to step onto the road back, and the closer he was, the faster his heart beat.


    A fire of that magnitude couldn''t appear without external cause. The tribe undoubtedly suffered an attack. But it made no sense. Raiders across dozens of kilometers dared not step into their tribe''s territory. They''d long learned the lesson that only death awaited there.


    But if it wasn''t raiders, who was it? As he got increasingly closer to his home of 12 years, Kilian desperately hoped raiders were to blame. They were not.


    By the time Kilian reached the tribe''s entrance, the corpses of folks he''d known since he was a babe littered the streets. Dozens of men, women and children, playmates and lasses he envisioned to seed in the future now decorated the ground. Blood stretched across several meters, its stench oppressing the air and stuffing Kilian''s nostrils.


    Raiders didn''t kill young women or anyone that could fetch a price on the slave market. Raiders didn''t pursue reckless murder if they held the strength to slaughter. They''d kill a few but spare the many so that work wouldn''t end and supplies flow for them. These...were no mere brigands.


    But as his eyes swept the fallen, Kilian could give no fuck for the murderers'' origins. He just wanted their heads.


    *Clang* *Clang* *Clang*


    The ringing sound of clashing steel echoed from within the tribe. Amidst the burning thatched houses, 32 men surrounded one, hacking at him with exquisite broadswords and a speed that made a mockery out of the best hunters the tribe initially possessed. Slashing speed, movement skills, technique, organization, although they seemed dressed like common raiders, those men undoubtedly were trained warriors.


    No, templars!


    Indeed, Kilian was right. Among those 32 men, 20 were top-level Lesser Templars, while another 12 were low-level Core Templars. The weakest of Lesser Templars could lift 600 kg without difficulty. Those were not opponents a paltry tribe could resist. Any one of them could slaughter the 300 denizens of this village. What need was there for 32?


    But shockingly, though encircled by this brutal formation, Viktor''s ax deflected all the blows aimed at him with masterful skill, and hacked at his foes with feral rage! As Viktor''s ax lodged in his skull, the sound of blade tearing through bones and flesh marked the death of the first templar.


    Right afterward, Viktor swept his ax in a circular motion, beheading three Lesser Templars in one go!


    He leaped into the air, the Core Templars rushed after him, but even as their sword thrusts neared, Viktor defied gravity to whirl in the sky, and land on their colliding sword tips!


    His ax then rained on them all, directly gashing the faces of four Core Templars, and sending them all hurtling down! However, not a single one of them uttered a scream! They landed back on their feet and Viktor on his. Kilian couldn''t believe his eyes, and again he swept the scene.


    Destruction ran amok, with three-fourth of the population having already met their maker. Fortunately, Kilian''s mother had yet to join their ranks. She lay in a corner - alongside the dozens of survivors - staring in helplessness at the clash that''d decide their lives. Confusion flared in Kilian''s eyes.


    "How can such warriors possibly target this tribe? No, they are targeting him. Revenge? If not for revenge, when they realized he wasn''t here, why did they condescend to slaughter the helpless?" Kilian reasoned.


    Being anti-social didn''t prevent him from having a functional brain, and he could see the inconsistencies were they lay. Without hesitation, he rushed toward his mother, ready to take her away.


    At that time, Viktor and Alina realized their son''s presence, and their eyes widened in fright!


    "Kilian, leave at once!!!" Viktor snarled in one of the greatest shows of fury of his life. He didn''t bother asking the boy why he didn''t follow his directives. Right now, none of that mattered. Alina too motioned for Kilian to escape. For an instant, Kilian stopped in his tracks.


    It made no sense. Although Alina''s speed lost to Kilian''s by a great margin, while Viktor handled the templars, taking her away wouldn''t be of great difficulty. And with the fight''s current trend, Viktor''s victory seemed certain. Yet, in their eyes, Killian saw the specter of death in its full glory.


    They didn''t count on surviving the day, so they could only hope he''d get far away. But he didn''t care. Kilian didn''t stop and again rushed after his mother, seizing her wrist to lead her away from strife. The man of the house could do the fighting.


    Alas, as the clangs of blades still rang, a succession of claps echoed, and Kilian knew that any attempt at escape would prove futile.


    "Why...why are you that silly?" Alina sighed as her eyes went between Kilian''s grasping hand and the new entrant. Unlike the others, the man rode a black stallion whose every stomp sent ripples throughout the ground. This was no ordinary steed. The one riding it was even less so. 1.88 meters tall with bulging muscles and a face 80% similar to Viktor''s, though dressed like a bandit, he rode his steed with the demeanor of a highborn.


    The claps ended the fight, and the templars stood with military discipline, forming two lines to let the man pass. With his right hand, he rubbed his bearded chin, and with his left, he stroked the back of his steed. As if comprehending an unspoken language, it came to a halt. The man''s eyes went between Viktor, Alina, and Kilian, lingering on Kilian for a few seconds before returning to Viktor.


    "Why should he leave when we''ve come for him? Little brother, long time no see. At least your skills haven''t rusted. What a pity that they also didn''t improve." Wilfried von Kressner, the von Kressner count, and Viktor''s elder brother began as his blue eyes nailed his sibling''s. But to those that knew that name, that title held little worth.


    He held another identity, a far more dreadful one, household guard captain of Klaus von Karsten. For a landed noble to serve as guard captain for another one, regardless of their status, was an inconceivable thought and a matter of great shame. But when the name von Karsten joined the fray, the reality was different. And seeing how his mother quivered, Kilian realized he''d underestimated the gravity of the situation.


    She may not be strong, but she possessed an iron will. Things able to make her flounder were few and far between. Wilfried leaped off his steed, landing before Viktor without any excess. His right hand rested on his pommel, the left on his thigh, and his smile vanished.


    "Considering that we are siblings, I give you the opportunity to kill yourself," Wilfried directly said, while his apathetic gaze fixed his brother. Viktor''s lips curled into a smile.


    "What? Klaus'' loyal dog is having conscience issues? I thought that beneath you. Spare me the nonsense, and do your worst." 12 years ago, Viktor was one of the most promising templars, with many considering him more gifted than his elder brother. They were right. However, 12 years later, the situation was different. Although they''d yet to draw blades, Viktor could see his defeat.


    *Slash*


    Wilfried shook his head, a tearing sound followed, and Viktor''s blood gushed from his gashed belly. Losing strength, he dropped on his knees, eyes wide open. From beginning to end, none saw Wilfried unsheathe his sword.


    "High...Templar. You''re...a High Templar," Viktor realized, far too late. "12 years ago, your talent surpassed mine. Although we both could only become templars and had no hope of wielding true magic, our future was bright indeed. I served as guard captain, and you as vice-captain of his grace. The youngest Core Templars of Orloth, they called us. How many noble scions envied us and sought our positions?


    Our father died early, leaving me to care for us both. If not for his grace''s protection, how could we have managed to keep our ancestral lands? But for a woman, you turned against your liege, eloped with his wife¡ªaiming to live out the rest of your existence like a baseborn serf.


    Let''s not even mention your crimes -- if only for that last part, you must die." Wilfried stated in a deadpan tone. But hearing those abject words, even as his blood overflowed, Viktor burst into laughter.


    "His grace? What a graceful man indeed! So graceful that he saw fit to send me away on a random mission, to take my betrothed as his wife! With all the women vying for him, he had to set his gaze on mine, and you have the gals to give me moralistic lectures? Wilfried, I didn''t know you that shameless!" Viktor spat, while the trembling Alina closed her eyes and lowered her face in a mixture of shame and pain.


    It was one of those expressions, those rare expressions she held on Kilian''s birthdays. She always tried to keep them hidden, yet never succeeded in concealing the pain. And although she''d always treated him with the utmost care, there were times when Kilian wondered if his mother didn''t regret giving birth to him.


    Now he knew why. He wasn''t his father''s son, but the result of the von Karsten duke''s oppression. And indeed, he was right. 12 years ago, Viktor was the vice-captain of the then 24 years old duke''s guard while Wilfried was his captain. At the time, Klaus was already the most celebrated magus of Orloth, the youngest High Emissary of the country''s history. As his maternal and closest cousins, they enjoyed great prestige.


    Never did Viktor expect that Klaus, who only had to say a word for princesses to fall to his feet, would use his power to seize his betrothed, wed, and impregnate her all in one night. But seeing his brother''s outrage, Wilfried couldn''t help but sneer.


    "Slow-witted and muddle-headed imbecile. When did Klaus von Karsten become a lust-blinded man? And even if he were, with his towering intellect and incomparable status, why would he target his vice captain''s betrothed, even going as far as to make her his wife?


    The mere daughter of a baron? What did he have to gain from that scandal? Awaken. He didn''t target her; he targeted you." The naked contempt in those words flew by Viktor''s face. Their implications'', however, crushed his soul. In that instant, and for the first time in his life, Kilian would face the Duke of Kars'' ruthlessness.


    "His grace is a man of outstanding vision, aiming to change the very pattern of the continent. To this day, the young duke included, he only has two children. What time does he have to play with women? It is you, not Alina that he attacked that night. You have always been too idealistic, unable to accept the necessities of change.


    A man like you is either the most loyal retainer, or the leader of an uprising. How could his grace keep you by his side? Allow me to enlighten you.


    Back then, his grace wanted an heir, but he knew his meteoric rise came with many enemies. If he remained in Kars, with all the spies and assassins ready to strike, the heir couldn''t grow in safety. So his grace chose to have him raised far beyond his lands.


    At the same time, he wanted to use the heir''s birth to wring out the spies and clean Kars once and for all. To that end, he needed a man that couldn''t bear humiliation, even if it came from him. Faced with such events, only you would choose to elope with the woman and still raise the child in all sincerity.


    So he chose you, and in the shadows helped the two of you escape. The event alarmed the nobility of Orloth, with spies sending missives to their masters, and assassins readying to intercept you. Thanks to you, in less than three months, his grace silently rounded up and exterminated all those he couldn''t use. The rest turned into his tools.


    Now he needs the northern tribes'' slaughter and his heir back to Kars! You are in the way!" Again, there was no sword move, but the words ended with victor split in dozens of pieces, most uneven.


    His five liters of blood formed a puddle around the pieces of flesh and gore, making the dazed Kilian unable to believe that an instant before, those bits and pieces formed his father. Alina, however, believed it.


    Her eyes spread wide, went bloodshot, and even as her body quivered, she desperately crawled toward the mess of gore, leaving behind the dazed Kilian who failed to adjust to the situation. It was too much, too soon.


    Alina didn''t scream, but her reddened eyes rained unending tears, she clawed her way through the blood and flesh bits. Kilian too followed her, and soon the two were vainly attempting to put the whole back together as if, by doing so, they could bring Viktor back. Kilian didn''t care about blood or foster father. He only knew that Viktor raised him as his own for 12 years, giving him the warmth he could only dream of.


    Now, Viktor was gone. It wasn''t possible. This was all a lie! He couldn''t accept it! Alina too couldn''t, so they could only use the pieces to remold the man. But before that heart-rending scene, Wilfried had no mercy. His deadpan gaze hardened, a wind gush brushed by Kilian, and from the left, fresh blood splattered his face.


    His hands came to a halt, quivering as he turned his trembling, bloodied gaze toward the spot his mother should have stood in. Instead of the beautiful, grief-maddened middle-aged woman, seventy-two pieces and a new puddle of blood stood.


    Kilian counted the pieces, then broke into a frenzied guffaw, the guffaw became a scream, then again a laugh, interchanging as he fell into all-out madness. Still, Wilfried showed no emotion.


    "Remember, as the heir of house von Karsten, the thing you need the least is emotional burdens. When the moment comes to make critical decisions, emotions can''t shackle you." Wilfried stated, and though the bystanders couldn''t see it, his sword whirled, hacking the seventy-five remaining villagers into pieces.


    He then tied the frenzied Kilian on the rear of his horse to lead him back to Kars. On the road, disguised as raiders, the von Karsten men razed 26 other northern tribes, slaughtering more than 8,000 people. Kilian didn''t get to see it all, for sometime along the road, he passed out.


    The incident threw the Kingdom of Orloth into unprecedented chaos, with its northerners spending the bitter nights quivering at the mention of the Veiled Marauders. Klaus von Karsten promptly used the incident to strip the King of Orloth of half his judiciary powers, reorganizing law enforcement, destabilizing the von Draken rule, and finally making his intentions clear.


    ¡­


    On the following day, Kilian awoke, facing the world with blank, inexpressive eyes. A mild-mannered man sat across the bed, eying Kilian with features strikingly similar to his.


    "Greetings, my son," said Klaus von Karsten.

 2 Groomed by Villainy

    Imposing yet not threatening. This was Kilian''s first impression of that man who, despite his real age, didn''t look older than 20. With a finely chiseled face of disarming handsomeness, perfect eyebrows and shoulder-length black hair worn in curls, he appeared as the prince charming of many ladies'' dreams. In Orloth, commoners and peasants wore their hair in dreadlocks while nobles kept theirs in curls. Still, high-ranking nobles didn''t have to follow those customs, with some extreme cases donning extravagant wigs that almost trailed on the ground. Commoners, however, had no such choice.


    As he stared at Kilian, gentleness shone in the man''s blue eyes, yet in those eyes, Kilian could only see the repetition of the previous day''s events. The slaughter replayed, the deaths clutched at his soul, screaming with their burning hands, and asking him why, why, and why.


    Why did they have to perish in such wretched manners?


    Why did he lead them all into damnation?


    Why did he now lie on velvet sheets, alone occupying a king-size bed as their ashes and blood stench still rankled the north?


    The questions turned into needles, pricking Kilian''s brain from the inside out. The world around him spun, and he clutched his head with full force, howling in grief! Klaus made no move, still eying Kilian with the same gaze, and not missing the tiniest of his gestures as if it was a priceless jewel and not a grieving boy standing before him.


    In that instant, Kilian felt something inside him snap. He couldn''t name it, but it did. He thus raised his eyes at Klaus, facing that new father with a calm, inexpressive gaze. Without a word, Klaus stretched out his right hand, made a revolver appear out of thin air, and lowered it before Kilian.


    "This is a toy I got from a technomancer friend. You might not have come across this sort of thing in your tribe, but it''s a fully charged, lethal weapon. Fires faster than the average man''s arrow, and kills with more certainty. I give you one chance to take revenge. I will not evade or block.


    Choose carefully." Klaus explained, making Kilian''s eyes narrow for a second. Unlike what Klaus expected, he knew very well of guns'' prowesses. The average bullet flew at around 760 m/s. Men could neither dodge nor block bullets. Therefore, on Earth, firearms soon replaced traditional blades.


    According to Earth''s logic, if the gun was truly charged, Klaus was putting his life in Kilian''s hands. But surprisingly, although he recognized Klaus as the true root of his woes, Kilian''s gaze didn''t linger on the revolver for more than three seconds. He then pushed it back toward Klaus.


    "Oh? Don''t you want to give it a try? Don''t you want to avenge your loss?" Klaus inquired with apparent amusement, more interested in the reasoning than the move.


    "Your guard captain uses a sword," Kilian coolly replied. And hearing such words from the 12 years old, Klaus couldn''t help but nod in approval.


    "Good boy. Indeed, trinkets like these are utterly worthless before the likes of us. Even for mere templars, they have no use. Only peasants and commoners could find a purpose for those tools. Alas, bottom-tier soldiers aside, commoners cannot even glance at them," Klaus turned his head away from Kilian and stood up.


    "You promptly learned to swallow your hatred, to put judgment before wrath, and make the rational call. Well done.


    Remember, the first rule of vengeance is to bide your time. Follow my teachings, outpace me, and when you mature into the man house von Karsten requires, you can take my life," Klaus declared, and with his arms crossed behind his back, stepped out, leaving a dumbfounded Kilian to seek the tricks in his words.


    The Kingdom of Orloth had existed for over 3,000 years, ruled by the von Draken since its founding. Likewise, the von Karsten had been the dukes of Kars for 3,000 years, always ranking among the most powerful nobles of the state. But all changed in two generations, two names: Otto von Karsten and Klaus von Karsten.


    Otto, Klaus'' father, was the textbook example of the self-imbued, depraved noble. Abusing his power to oppress commoners and vassals alike, terrorizing men and taking their women¡ªsummarily slaughtering those that opposed him¡ªand making an enemy out of the entirety of Orloth. As the closest cousin of King Erik, he enjoyed great privileges, with few daring to oppose him¡ªoutwardly at least.


    In the shadows, however, disgruntled nobles plotted the destruction of the von Karsten, forcing the young Klaus, Otto''s sixth son, to mature beyond his years. By the time he revealed himself as the number one magus talent of Orloth, Klaus had murdered all those that preceded him in the succession line, tried and beheaded his father in public, and assumed the scepter of duke. From that moment on, Kars thrived unceasingly, leaving behind even the king''s demesne.


    In Orloth, magi were split into three ranks: Lesser Emissary, Core Emissary, and High Emissary. Templars wielded similar titles. Klaus, however, went beyond the High Emissary limit, now standing as the first Archon of Orloth''s history. For a man such as him, overthrowing the von Draken rule was child''s play. However, that was never his intention.


    Kilian dared not call himself a genius, but he believed himself reasonably intelligent. And based on his observations, he didn''t doubt that if he dared take the revolver, Klaus would have ended him. Not out of self-preservation, but because he would have proved incompetent.


    From then on, rigorous training began. Mondays started with lectures, Sundays ended with lectures. Kilian woke up at 6 am and slept at 10 pm, spending the first half of his days following and listening to Klaus'' teachings, and the other half digesting them through homework and self-meditation. From history to geography, from mathematics to physics, across the weeks and months that followed, there was no topic Klaus didn''t cover.


    "Because of the particular ritual I used during your conception, and your own talent, your Innate Dra Reserves are outstanding, surpassing that of the majority of Lesser Emissaries. But for that same reason, you cannot rush into learning magic.


    Magic builds on knowledge. Understanding all you weave is the core foundation. Without sufficient understanding, you don''t just risk ruining your mind; in the worst cases, you can even blow yourself up. The more Innate Dra you have, the easier it is to slip. Therefore, for the first six years, we will focus on building your knowledge of this world," Klaus explained, and as usual, Kilian didn''t respond.


    Klaus didn''t mind the silence. Seeing his son''s rapid progress was delightful enough. When he performed outstandingly, Klaus heartily praised Kilian, in those rare cases where he failed, he reproved and guided him to correctness. Kilian soon realized that the scientific knowledge at this world''s disposal had long-since surpassed Earth''s. At the same time, there was no such thing as religious beliefs. None believed in God.


    This was a strange notion that took Kilian several weeks to accept. But ultimately, he had to. In this world, "God died" long ago. When magic first appeared, when men first obtained the ability to shape Dra, form Arcane Circles, and weave spells, their various beliefs collapsed.


    Initially, the clerical orders attempted to control magic, making it a priest only discipline, a reward of God for the truly pious, and forcing the masses into subservience. Unfortunately for them, piety didn''t grant arcane talent¡ªnature did.


    When they formed the Grand Orders to build vast armies and "spread the faith," the impious became magi and leaked the secrets to their houses. It didn''t take three centuries for an aristocracy to form and become a power of its own. Templars and magi joined hands to obliterate the clergy, establishing strong realms in their stead.


    Although the battles to wipe out the clergy stretched across years, the continent of Arcadia now refers to them as the Night of God''s Final Breath. In the millennia that followed, magi wiped out all traces of religious belief, making magic and arcane knowledge the sole faith. They formed the arcane noble houses, established intermarriage alliances to ensure the purity of magical blood and multiply the magi in the following generation.


    Over the years, they polished and mastered their craft, separating themselves from the ordinary men and women to become an elitist circle. Now, magocracies ruled the world, and though they only represented 0.1% of the population, magi held the commoners with an irresistible grasp. There was absolutely no way for the many to topple the reign of the few.


    When the nobles noticed this truth, all hell broke loose, giving birth to a dystopian society where commoners had no right before the aristocracy. Only now did Kilian understand how dark this world truly was.


    But he didn''t merely learn science textbooks. Klaus taught him music, psychology, statecraft, swordplay, killing arts, and reinforced his already outstanding artistic skills. Still, above all, Klaus taught him life lessons. Two of them, Kilian found particularly striking, and would always remember:


    "Do not trick yourself with self-righteous nonsense such as the end justifies the means. You do what you do for you understand that those who make the world run, those who build countries and change regimes, always thrive on evil. Evil is the root of man''s hegemony. History sings the praise of despoilers, of murderers, and makes martyrs out of the good folks." Those words marked the first moment where Kilian eyed his biological father with a hint of interest.


    "Whoever tells you that you can trust no one is aiming for your neck. Throughout this vast world, none can claim invincibility. If you can''t even trust the ones guarding your door, how can you sleep at night? If there isn''t a single person you can give your back to, how can you breathe? If those that draw their swords and unleash spells for your cause are not even worth your trust, how can you fight?


    Trust is not wrong. The true issue lies in its basis. Beware, for it might one day become the root of a betrayal. Know why you trust your folks, why they answer your call, why they back you and put their lives at your service. Learn your worth in their hearts and the source of that worth. Only then can you make the proper judgment on whom to trust." Kilian thus realized that Klaus didn''t want a son, but an heir of monstrous perfection.


    He got it.

 3 From Junior Duke to King Consort Bundled Arc, Part 1

    3: Survival Games


    Kars is a marvel. Regardless of how deep his hatred ran, Kilian was forced to acknowledge that every day in Kars was a day in heaven. Built on top of Lake Scharbuhel, the city''s 1349 square kilometers of land accommodated 3.2 million citizens, about 2% of Orloth''s population. Tourists and citizens alike could find limpid ponds in every street and tall fountains surrounded by lively parks.


    Known as the City of Crystals, Kars'' domed houses and sky-piercing towers were all built in the same icy-blue, crystalline material: orstalph. And though it sat in the city''s center, a large stream isolated the Palace of Crystals, seat of the Duke of Kars, from the rest of the city. Visitors came and left through flying frigates prepared on either side of the stream, and palm-sized sports cars raced across coiling bridges. Indeed, Kars'' cars could shrink to fit one hand, self-drive, and anticipate all collisions.


    But none of this could compare to the three platinum orbs that hovered in the city''s sky to manage its climate.


    The three orbs browsed the minds of the 3.2 million citizens and maintained the climate preferred by the majority. If the many wanted summer, then summer reigned. If they wished for winter, winter followed, and if driven by madness they asked for a combination between both, then they still had it. Usually, Kars lay in an eternal spring. And as he sat on his room''s balcony¡ªwatching drone squadrons patrol the sky to release nanomachines and eliminate all viruses or problematic bacteria¡ªKilian silently cursed Klaus'' abilities.


    There was only one city throughout the Arcadian continent where a commoner could freely argue a case against an aristocrat: Kars. After spending 16 months within its walls, Kilian fell in love with this land. Aristocrats threaded carefully, slavery neared abolition and what few slaves remained enjoyed better lives than commoners in other grand cities. The poverty rate was below 1%, and the words "Treat Evil With Justice" shone above the execution platform where Klaus beheaded his tyrannical father.


    And to those millions of commoners, Klaus was the greatest hero of all times, the harsh but fair god that saved them all from ruin. Often they attempted to erect statues in his name, but were always rejected. Across the rest of the duchy, the situation was mostly the same.


    The sun''s rays shafted through the sky, and an alarm chimed at Kilian''s bedside.


    "We will hold today''s lesson in the garden," Klaus'' voice echoed and, without delay, Kilian left his room. He didn''t have to touch the door handle. From light to door, everything in that room followed Kilian''s brainwaves.


    "Greetings, Junior Duke," dozens of maids lined up in the hall and bowed at Kilian''s passage. Although Klaus equipped the castle with a self-cleaning mechanism, they still needed hands for some mundane task. It also left jobs for those with no other options. And while Kilian could simply use a teleportation circle, Klaus forbade it. "Crossing the palace on foot is good for self-discipline," he often said. And while Kilian never shied from hard labor, having to cross two hours'' worth of stairs every morning wasn''t discipline, it was bullshit.


    Stepping into the garden, Kilian caught Klaus pruning a bonsai tree as he did every Thursday. But contrary to the usual scenery, a man kneeled beside him, handcuffed and sweating like pig iron.


    "Welcome, Kilian," Klaus said and snapped his fingers. The man''s cuffs crumbled, and like a blood-frenzied war fiend, he lunged at Kilian. Unprepared for the twist, Kilian recoiled. The assailant threw wild swings at his face, but all failed to connect. Yet, he didn''t stop, and as if hungering for Kilian''s life, pressed onward.


    Never in his existence did Kilian face such an opponent, and while his foe pressed on him, he trembled, not out of fear, but with pure rage. Pivoting on the right, Kilian let the swing go wide, and kicked into the right side of his opponent''s knee. The bone cracked, and thrown off-balance, he tumbled on his side.


    "Aargh!" The assailant groaned, but with billowing rage Kilian seized his healthy leg, and snapped it without a second thought. Clutching at his broken legs, the defeated howled in pain. But while the broken bones wracked him from the inside, Kilian mounted him, and punched all teeth out of his mouth.


    Battered and bloodied, he could only lay there, pummeled by Kilian''s rage until his last breath left him. And still, Kilian didn''t stop. They had neither grievance nor enmity, so why did he attack him? Why? Why? Why?


    It wasn''t fair! He couldn''t accept it, so he punched till that man''s face became a wretched sack of gore, punched till all trace of who he used to be vanished, punched, punched and punched!


    Meanwhile, Klaus stood on the side, tending to the bonsai tree. And when Kilian''s rage could no longer power him, his ducal father turned to face the result.


    "I give you a D. You used way too much strength to kill the man. Although guilty of murder he was just a jeweler with no martial training. If you need to exhaust your breath on the likes of him, how do you handle an ambush?" Klaus asked in an apathetic tone. Only now did Kilian snap out of his feral state and witness the result of his rage. Appalled, he sprang back, and lowered his eyes on his bloodied hands. This was his first kill, a man he knew nothing of but battered to death like some blood worshipping barbarian.


    When did he become so vicious?


    "Learning to dehumanize your foes is critical for your survival. Just like him, I told him that if he killed you, his sentence would change from flaying to life imprisonment. And look at how well he adapted?" Klaus stepped toward Kilian and whispered in his ear. Vines sprouted from the ground, wrapping the fallen''s corpse before grinding him to dust.


    "From now on, you will practice your killing arts on death row inmates. We will start with one per month, then two, three, four, thirty¡ªuntil you can kill without second thoughts, we will continue. On top of your studies, I will also prepare assassins to hunt you day and night. And I do not doubt that my many enemies won''t let you rest, either. Try not to die," Klaus whispered in his absentminded son''s ears.


    "Now come, you have someone to meet." Pulling Kilian by his wrist, Klaus led him back into the castle. And as they crossed its icy-blue walls, Kilian''s mind lingered on his kill''s bleeding face, then like a glass mirror, the face shattered, and Kilian yanked his hand out of Klaus'' grasp. The duke smiled but said nothing.


    Together, they reached the greeting hall. From the entrance to the main seat, portraits of Kars'' past 60 dukes hung on the walls. Custom required that at Klaus'' death, Kilian drew and added his portrait to the hall''s walls¡ªhe wouldn''t. Best burn them all to spare the walls more abuse. In any case, they didn''t have much room left.


    Upon the two''s entrance, the eight noblemen and women awaiting in the hall bowed in greetings. On the scene, only one grabbed Kilian''s attention: a 13 years old girl with the blue eyes and curly black hair of the von Karstens.


    While the house''s lasses typically couldn''t hold his gaze, this one was hard to ignore. Like a masterfully carved doll, she would have looked flawless if not for her pale-white skin that screamed vampire vibes. And while Kilian wondered if her tiny lips hid fangs, the girl''s large eyes blinked at him.


    "Kilian, Anke. Anke, Kilian. Future wife, future husband. I hope you two get along," Klaus made the presentations, then motioned for the seven kin to clear the hall. They did so without delay.


    Alone, the two faced one another for three long minutes before Anke broke the silence.


    "When uncle said you were a bit unstable, I didn''t believe him, but you do look like someone about to murder millions." At first taken aback by the words, Kilian glanced at his bloodied hands and realized they were reasonable.


    "Well said, but it''s hard to take you seriously when you, yourself, look like a bloodsucking lolita. Anyone ever asked you if you were afraid of sunlight?" Kilian countered, making Anke''s large eyes narrow at him.


    "My skin is snow white."


    "No, it''s chalk. Don''t fetishize ghosthood."


    Struck hard by Kilian''s words, Anke staggered and balled up her fists. Where did this hateful creature come from, and how could her beloved uncle ask her to marry him? As if seeing through her thoughts, Kilian nodded in approval.


    "I know what you''re thinking¡ªOh my god, he''s too good for me¡ªand you''re absolutely correct, so this marriage...will never happen," Kilian said, spun and left.


    On that day, as she stared at his distant back with indignation teeming in her heart, Anke swore to make him grovel at her feet¡ªshe never could.


    4: What''s the Point?


    "One empire and four kingdoms occupy the Arcadian continent. Together, the four kingdoms only control one-tenth of the land, with the rest under the dominion of the Arcadian Empire. Nargoz north, Orloth south, Sogard west and Drucia east. Though they nominally maintain sovereignty, all four pay massive, yearly tributes to the Emperor of Arcadia¡ªsole sovereign of the continent''s five billion citizens," a woman nigh-identical to Alina told Kilian while a replica of Viktor sat at her right.


    Facing the two, Kilian lay on his stomach, enjoying the brush of a gentle spring breeze within a verdant prairie. It was in moments like these that he discovered a passion for cramming.


    "And what does this year represent?" Alina''s replica asked.


    "The 3,018th year of the Arcadian Empire, 50th year of Emperor Niklas'' reign, and the time of my 18th birthday," Kilian said like a well-programmed automaton while his attention shifted between the two.


    "The three grand eras that preceded?" Viktor''s copy chimed in.


    "First, the Theocratic Age ruled by the clergy. Second, the Holy Rebellion led by the Grand Orders whose leader, Eginolf von Skoll, went on to establish the Arcadian Empire. And last, the Eternal Night that back then saw the death of half the human race."


    "Why does the empire maintain the four kingdoms?"


    "No one kn--"


    Before the words ended, a foreign grip forced Kilian out of the dreamland, returning him to his room where his body floated in a magenta bubble. With a light explosive sound, the bubble popped, and Kilian tumbled on his bed.


    "As the future Duke of Kars, how can you spend hours idling in a Dreamscape? Shame on you," a mischievous voice came from Kilian''s left. But even without turning, he knew who it belonged to.


    "You have three seconds to roll out of my bed before I make you a single mom," Kilian replied, but still didn''t turn to face the voice''s owner. With a snort, she leaned over, locking her sapphire eyes on his as her wavy black hair fell at either side of his face.


    "And how would you do that?" Anke asked and leaned in, eyes still glued on Kilian. Her lips closed on his, and at first, he didn''t evade, welcoming her with a few gentle kisses before tugging on her lips with his. But as the kiss grew more passionate, and Anke stuck out her tongue, Kilian flipped her on the other side of the bed and replied:


    "By entertaining your hopes long enough to get you pregnant and then abandoning you like the cunt I am."


    It was always like this. Across the six years since they first met, Anke would run after Kilian and get rejected daily. Sometimes she''d chance on him wrestling with Klaus'' assassins, and they''d fight them together. Yet, she made no progress. At first, her wounded pride drove her. Now it was a mix of conflicting emotions she couldn''t handle.


    "We''re getting married, though. There is no escaping it. In a few months¡ªat best¡ªwe will be married,?? Anke stated the facts they both knew so well. Before they could walk, the marriage was set in stone. And though surnamed von Karsten, Anke was heir to Arcadia''s highest-ranked noble. Legions would divorce their wives to secure her hand in marriage. Yet here she was, bound to someone with zero interest.


    "I said it before, it won''t happen," Kilian replied, kissed Anke''s cheek, and got out of bed¡ªanother one of those cruel reminders that they could be many things, just not lovers.


    ¡­


    The six years deadline had reached its end, and having mastered all of Klaus'' lessons, Kilian was now prepared for magic. But as he crossed the icy-blue hallways leading to the duke''s study, Kilian knew that of all the things he learned, acting came first.


    Day and night he wore masks of sarcasm, of treachery and cynicism, facing subjects, guests and relatives alike with the same smile¡ªwhile burying his loathing in the recesses of his black heart.


    Those six years in Kars carried more weight than his 22 years on Earth or the 12 years in his tribe. They redefined his mind and perceptions, turning him into an individual he could no longer recognize. Bits by bits, madness crept in.


    At the entrance of Klaus'' study, two guards stood, clad in amethyst, crystal power armors that covered them from head to toe. Thanks to Klaus'' strength, resources and leadership, Kars by far possessed the highest technological level of Orloth, and ranked third among the empire''s top cities¡ªanother reminder of the gap between father and son.


    "Greetings, Junior Duke. His Grace is waiting for you," the two said with polite bows and sidestepped to let Kilian pass. As soon as he reached it, the door opened for him. In the study, Klaus sat at his office table, with a bearded old man facing him. Ignoring the visitor, Kilian stepped toward Klaus, arms crossed behind his back.


    "Your Grace," Kilian bowed toward his father, making both the duke and his guest turn toward him.


    "You still call your father by his title? What are you? A soldier?" The bearded guest said, and Klaus smiled at the words.


    "Grandfather, you sneak into the duke''s study early in the morning or late in the evening. Matter of fact, you''re the only one with the privilege. Does that make you his private cock-sucker? Mhm?" Kilian countered, making the old man''s eyes twitch.


    "The duke is the duke, so out of respect I call him Your Grace. He doesn''t care, why do you care? Mind your goddamn business¡ªunbelievable." Shaking his head to and fro, Kilian shifted his eyes back to Klaus. In Kars, this bearded old man was a mystery. He came as he pleased and left just the same. And while none ever saw his face, he''d been by Klaus'' side since he was a child, tutoring him in magic and more.


    In fact, many assumed that he was the true foundation of Klaus'' meteoric rise¡ªKilian jokingly called him grandfather.


    "Impudence!" Enraged, the man leaped on his feet, towering above Kilian at almost 1.9 meters. But knowing that with the right skillset, shapeshifting was child''s play, Kilian distrusted the old man''s current appearance.


    "What? You can''t handle me with words, so you must use your fists? Barbarian! This is Kars, not the imperial arena. The 31st century, not the dark age! Here we have laws that protect children from mad bitches. If you don''t behave, I will call the cops!" Kilian placed his hands on either side of his hip and bawled at the elder''s face.


    Reeling back from the words'' impact, the cloaked man stared dumbfounded at Kilian. Although by now, he should have gotten used to Kilian''s ways, he couldn''t believe that Klaus could raise such an anomaly.


    Seeing the show end, the duke beckoned for Kilian''s attention.


    "Enough. The King of Nargoz is dead, skinned alive and left to rot by the emperor this morning." The words snatched Kilian''s attention, and he spun toward Klaus, "Skinned alive? Nargoz rebelled?"


    Ranking among the most brutal execution methods of the Arcadian Empire, execution by flaying was reserved for rebel leaders. But how could the tiny Nargoz dare rebel against the empire?


    "No. The annual tributes were just...three days late," Klaus replied, making Kilian''s eyes widen in disbelief.


    "Now that''s a man that knows how to make himself respected."


    "You really think so?"


    "No. Unless there''s a bigger plot here, he''s just a fool. But how does that affect me?" As he observed the prompt exchange between Kilian and Klaus, the bearded man frowned and fell back on his seat.


    "The Grand Prince of Nargoz is an old friend of mine. Go and reassure him of Kars'' support. Lay the groundworks for an official alliance and bring me an exclusive trade deal for orstalph and zuri sales. Your team and bodyguards await. When you return, we will summon the kinsmen and handle your Dra Root Ceremony," Klaus said and pushed a letter of credence toward Kilian.


    Inwardly, he sneered. Having been by Klaus'' side for so long, Kilian knew that under the guise of an assignment, he wanted him out of Kars. But since he''d long been plotting a trip to Nargoz, he didn''t object.


    "Do I have full negotiation powers?"


    "Anything is fine as long as it doesn''t disadvantage Kars."


    "Very well, as you command, Your Grace," Kilian half-jested before leaving for Nargoz.


    "I don''t understand. Nargoz will be wiped out within three years. An alliance has no use," the bearded elder said.


    "Although King Erik remains docile, since I became Grand Justiciar of Orloth, the elder princes allied with the imperial aristocracy and some of my dissatisfied vassals to plot my house''s destruction. I may not care for Orloth''s forces, but imperial nobles and princes require more considerations. I need a few days to handle them," Klaus replied with a lopsided smirk.


    "If every time it truly matters, you send him away, what''s the point of all this training? The Gate will never open," the elder sighed, Klaus'' smirk vanished, and a dreary pause followed.


    "Of all people, I thought you''d understand." Flinching at the words, the elder lowered his head and faded in a swirl of amber winds. Alone, Klaus reclined in his seat and closed his eyes.


    5: Nargoz''s Upheaval


    Crossing the central courtyard leading to the castle''s gates, Kilian came across a squad of 14 men, 12 of which stood in a horizontal line, as immobile as the two ancient busts in Klaus'' study.


    The 12 men wore Zurishells, platinum muscle fiber armors crafted in zuri. A rare mineral unique to Arcadia, zuri was primarily used to produce top templar armors. Its flexibility, robustness and reception to magic transcended that of all other minerals. It also served as an alloy for various electronic parts.


    In the eighth year of Klaus'' reign, his Technomancy Department devised a way to craft zuri into muscle fiber armors that not only provided superhuman strength, resilience and speed, but incorporated the latest advancements in Technomancy. Supersonic propulsors, stasis fields, plasma lasers and a 360-degree vision ensured that whoever wore those armors could rip the average High Emissary to shreds.


    "Junior Duke, by His Grace''s orders, I have selected these 12 members of the Seared Hearts as your bodyguards. I believe you''re most familiar with them," Wilfried said, and the 12 bowed in greetings. Out of courtesy, they kept their faces exposed, enabling Kilian to identify them all.


    Ignoring Wilfried, Kilian''s eyes stopped on the agent at the seventh place from the left, "Your face...you''re new. But did I not kill you? Or was it a twin?" He asked with as much tact as the king of oafs. But without straightening his back, the agent nodded.


    "My brother failed the Seared Hearts'' examination, and in a moment of weakness, was bribed by enemy forces and attempted to murder Your Lordship. He shamed our family and deserved one million deaths," the agent replied with no ripple in his voice. Klaus wasn''t the only one that sent assassins after Kilian. Disgruntled vassals, princes, dukes and marquises, all those that''d rather see Kars fall in the hands of Kilian''s imbecile of a younger brother, gunned for his life.


    "Were you close?"


    "Very much so."


    "Do you want vengeance?"


    "Some people don''t deserve to be avenged. Anyone with the nerve to threaten His Grace''s world merits a brutal death. If Your Lordship didn''t kill him, I would have."


    "Is that so?" As if bored by the exchange, Kilian spun to face the 14th man on the scene, his younger brother, Florens von Karsten.


    "Why are you here?" He directly asked. Undisturbed, Florens flashed him a fake smile and stepped forward.


    "Father wants me to follow your lead and gain some experience. This is an opportunity to cement our brotherhood, grow closer, and show the world Kars'' unity," Florens said, barely able to suppress his glee. Though two years younger than Kilian, he always saw himself as the true highborn and heir of Kars. On this trip, he intended to prove it. However, Kilian tilted his head to the left, and eyed his brother from head to toe.


    "I screwed your mom," he straightforwardly said, and startled by the words, Florens blinked in confusion.


    "W-what?" To say nothing of him, Wilfried aside, all others'' faces experienced drastic changes.


    "I screwed your mom. No, I screw your mom. Matter of fact, I''m the only one that banged her in the last two years. Father''s orders, couldn''t stop it." Slammed hard by Kilian''s casually spoken words, Florens staggered and whirled to face Wilfried. The silent acknowledgment he saw in his uncle''s face sapped all strength from his legs, and he neared collapse.


    But at that time, Kilian gently tapped his right shoulder and whispered in his ear, "I hope our brotherhood survives it." He then walked past his dazed brother and led his men toward Kars'' gate where a Mach 2 frigate awaited them. Only now did Florens tumble, and after a brief observation of the boy''s state, Wilfried pressed his earchip to contact Klaus.


    "Your Grace, I''m afraid Lord Florens can no longer join the delegation."


    ...


    "Before we reach Nargoz, let me make something clear. You have to drop your Arcadian, human supremacist views, less you cause me needless trouble," sitting in a beige cabin, Kilian told his bodyguards who now had their faces covered by dark-gray helmets. Thanks to the empire''s millennia of propaganda, the belief that humanity stood supreme clouded the citizens'' eyes. In the Arcadian humans'' mind, other races were either inferior or abominations.


    The view worked in most places, but in Nargoz, would only bring them hatred.


    "Your Lordship needs not be concerned. As you know, His Grace has always advocated tolerance and reformed much of Kars'' culture. Although some prejudices remain here and there, they don''t affect the likes of us. Still, I''m confused. Aren''t the Nargozis human?" A bodyguard inquired.


    "Depends on whom you ask. In short, Nargoz is a remnant of the Eternal Night. Founded a century before the empire by the bloodkins to act as a base for their chiropteran masters. The rulers of Nargoz, house Veidt, are direct descendants of the bloodkins that survived through a timely rebellion against the chiropteran invaders. Although they lost some of the original bloodkins'' features, their blood-red eyes and innate abilities remain, reminding the world that they aren''t quite human," Kilian explained, making the 12 exchange curious glances.


    The most secretive and isolationist of the four kingdoms, Nargoz rarely involved itself in Arcadian struggles. Likewise, information about that kingdom rarely circulated among aristocrats, to say nothing of commoners. Thus, it became a mythical land, with endless legends pouring from gossipy mouths. Yet, while most stories presented no truth, one was quite accurate.


    Though the most powerful of the four kingdoms, Nargoz failed to thrive because its aristocracy, the Blood Court, lived in perpetual strife. But as his frigate crossed 20,000 km of blue sky to reach the foreign state''s border, Kilian''s thoughts remained glued on the two things he truly came for, and how to snatch them right.


    ...


    Within Nargoz''s royal palace, Grand Prince Oliver, heir to Nargoz''s throne, sat alongside top-ranking nobles of the Blood Court and senior members of the royal council. Anxiety strained all faces.


    "Who could think that the empire would shoot down our tribute-delivering aircrafts, force a three days delay, and then use that as an excuse to execute our king. Again, the emperor proves his cruelty unrivaled," said an old Nargozi councilor with gray hair and blood-red eyes. Aware of their helplessness before the empire''s tyranny, several councilors and nobles sighed.


    "Nargoz was never a thorn in the empire''s side. We administer this land because they allow us to, because we forsook human-blood-drinking, and remained docile to their laws. If the empire wishes to replace us, it doesn''t need such petty excuses. What then is this? A warning? A reminder?" A duke followed, but with a wave of his pale hand, Oliver dismissed the words.


    "I''m afraid Emperor Niklas is branding us traitors, forcing us to renew the Covenant, break the Peace Barrier, and contact the Balmarian continent to ask the Chiropteran Dynasty for assistance. He must be ready for war and wants to use our despair to lure his foes into a fatal trap. But so long as I breathe, this will not happen," Oliver said, making councilors and nobles nod in approval.


    Still, their hearts soured. Nargoz couldn''t survive by lobbying the Chiropteran Dynasty. But for how long could it endure the Arcadian Empire''s pressure?


    "August Orphan, can''t you ask the Duke of Kars for help? After all, aren''t the two of you great friends?" The gray-haired councilor offered, but instantly, Oliver sneered.


    "Friends? Besides that mysterious man that groomed and protected him throughout his younger years, Klaus has no friend."


    6: Bloodkins


    Even at Mach 2 speed, it took Kilian''s delegation eight hours to reach Nargoz''s territory and dive toward its capital. Having warned the Nargozi beforehand, they didn''t face any hurdle. Shrunken to palm-size, the drone-like frigate dropped on the private landing platform reserved for foreign dignitaries. But while the frigate''s size and speed gave no one the time to gaze upon it, the racket left by twice the speed of sound startled many citizens. And as Kilian''s aircraft landed, his bodyguards stood up, ready to line around him.


    The aircraft returned to initial size, Kilian''s eyes opened, and alongside the 12, he stepped out of the frigate. Thick icy-blue mist welcomed them all, but activating their visors, the bodyguards saw through it and stood in a perfect military formation.


    The blue mist dispersed, revealing three figures dressed in black wizard robes embroidered with red flame patterns. Silver belts tied their waists, and they all possessed the same blood-red eyes. While commoners and women in Arcadia''s cities dressed in a similar fashion as on Earth, due to their clerical and thaumaturgic heritage, male aristocrats adopted a more austere look. Kilian, for example, wore a long-sleeved white robe with large golden epaulettes, and the von Karstens'' eagle emblem on either side of his belt.


    "Welcome, Junior Duke, to Nargoz," the three men said and bowed in greetings. At first, the move surprised Kilian. After all, Kars may be Arcadia''s number three city, but in traditional hierarchy, Nargoz ranked higher. However, when he saw the red half-moon marks on their foreheads, he realized why.


    "Whose huntmasters are you?"


    "The August Orphan, the chancellor and the chamberlain''s," the three answered Kilian''s inquiry. During the Eternal Night, bloodkins were hunters and herd-keepers for their chiropteran masters. Equipped for the job, bloodkins were all born or reborn with a huntmaster and several hunting dogs.


    The huntmaster remained one level weaker than his bloodkin, and the hunting dogs, a whole rank below. And while in Nargoz they possessed a lofty status, on Arcadian law, huntmasters were household slaves.


    "Very well, lead the way," Kilian said. While some might think that a reception of huntmasters was beneath their dignity, Kilian didn''t care for aristocratic pedantry and understood Oliver''s good will.


    Satisfied by his reaction, the huntmasters clapped, red mist gathered, coalescing into fifteen, massive blood-red mastiffs. Each possessed the strength of a top-level Core Templar, showing that their masters either were top High Templars or High Emissaries.


    "The August Orphan hopes you will do us the honor of riding his blood hunters and get a glimpse of Nargoz''s scenic places," one huntmaster said, and before his bodyguards could protest, Kilian leaped on a blood mastiff''s back.


    With thrice the muscle mass of an English Mastiff, blood-colored fur and the mane of a lion, those blood mastiffs indeed didn''t make the average man feel safe around them. Fearing an accident, Kilian''s bodyguards were about to plead their case when his voice echoed in their earpieces.


    ??Let''s get something out of the way, you''re my jailors, not my bodyguards. Wilfried chose you to make sure that I won''t use the assignment to escape; the rest has nothing to do with you. Until I give you express orders, behave, or I will have to prove his choice incorrect."


    The words stopped the 12 in their tracks, and underneath their visors, their faces experienced wild changes. Not daring to reply, they backpedaled, and bowed in understanding.


    "Those 12 won''t need mounts. Let''s go," Kilian ordered, and although they could sense that some silent confrontation occurred, the three huntmasters didn''t care to investigate, clapped, and sent the excess blood hunters on their way back. Riding their own mounts, they soared into the air, leading the way for Kilian. With their flight-able Zurishells, Kilian''s guards followed right behind, experiencing Nargoz''s eponymous capital alongside him.


    Cold and nightmarishly even is the best description of Nargoz''s climate. Although it seemed trapped in an eternal ice age, Nargoz didn''t have that much snow. But while snow didn''t last over two months, the bone-chilling cold remained all year long. A dark, overcast sky prevented the sunlight from freely dropping, and while in good days the weather stagnated at 0 degree celsius, intermittent waves of icy-blue mist often covered the citizens'' eyes. Bloodkin or not, most citizens had pale-white skin akin to Anke''s.


    And perhaps due to this harsh climate, tall black towers with pointed roofs and dark cathedrals dominated the city. Most wore black, or other dark colors, with the cathedral-styled buildings hosting schools, colleges and the like. Led by lower-ranked huntmasters, blood hunters patrolled the city, keeping order through their daunting auras alone. But while far from Kars'' technological level, Nargoz was equipped with a rotation mechanism, enabling the royal family to modify the geography at will and control all that occured on land.


    Riding on clouds of blood, the hunters descended upon Nargoz''s royal palace which, just like its city, boasted a gothic architecture. Like a small mountain of its own, Nargoz''s royal palace housed about one million citizens. Low-ranked nobles or commoners with red eyes had to leave their families for the Veidt palace and spend the remainder of their lives behind its walls. There, they learned to control their powers and the craving for the hunt that brimmed in all their hearts. Should a bloodkin drink human blood, they''d obtain the slit pupils of a snake, and give off the stench of their victims'' blood¡ªexecution followed.


    Around the castle''s tallest tower, the statue of an abomination with the upper body of a hulky werebat and the lower end of a dragon coiled, reminding the world of Nargoz''s chiropteran heritage.


    Wrapping Kilian and his guards into a red orb, the mastiffs turned into sanguine mist, charging past the walls to dive straight into the great hall where the Blood Court stood with Grand Prince Oliver and his wife, the ravishing princess Kathrin.


    Leaping off his steed, Kilian landed before the heir apparent to Nargoz''s throne, a handsome man who despite being twice his age, didn''t look older than him.


    "Greetings, Your Highness," Kilian said, and instantly, the atmosphere tensed.


    7: From Negotiation to Coercion


    In Arcadia when a monarch died, until the next coronation, it was common courtesy to refer to the legal heir as August Orphan. If all citizens were the monarch''s children, then the heir naturally was the most honorable of them all¡ªhence the term "august." At least that was how the Arcadians saw it. By refusing to employ proper decorum, Kilian was telling the Blood Court that Kars didn''t recognize Oliver as heir to Nargoz''s throne.


    Hell of a way to start negotiations.


    The Nargozi Grand Prince''s eyes twitched, narrowing at Kilian who stared back as an equal rather than the lower ranked aristocrat he was. Instantly, Oliver disliked him. But seeing that Kilian''s face showed no contempt, he restrained himself. Others didn''t have the same self-control.


    "What does Your Lordship mean by this? Please refer to the August Orphan as propriety demands. Unless, Kars refuses to acknowledge our lord''s rightful claim?" A Nargozi duke chimed in. But ignoring him, Kilian took three steps toward Oliver, breaching his personal space, and now standing a few centimeters away from him.


    "In a case like this, decorum is for sycophantic cunts. My deepest condolences, long live Your Highness, all those are lies, and I don''t care to spew them. As things stand, if you take the crown, on your father''s first death anniversary, we will carry your coffin. My father''s words, not mine," crossing his arms behind his back, Kilian replied without glancing at the indignant duke.


    By using Klaus to give his words weight, Kilian knew he''d instantly throw Nargoz''s court into a panic. And as expected, many started fidgeting in their pants. Meanwhile, the bodyguards couldn''t understand why the Junior Duke so actively provoked the Blood Court.


    Still, Oliver kept his composure, and with a smile, motioned for Kilian to take a seat. Nodding, Kilian took his assigned place, and the Blood Court followed suit. For a second, Kilian swept the sanguine tapestry depicting Nargoz''s history, then returned his attention to Oliver.


    "According to His Grace, there''s no way that Nargoz, the most powerful of the four tributary kingdoms, could miss the tributes'' deadline. Better, it makes no sense that after 3,000 years of loyal service, the emperor''s first response, is the worst of humiliations. This year''s incident quite possibly stems from the will of Emperor Niklas, and if he doesn''t get what he wants, next year we shall have a repeat." Taking a brief pause, Kilian observed all the changes in Oliver''s face. Using the irregular flutter of the prince''s eyes and the nervous moves of his lips, Kilian confirmed his assumptions, and pursued.


    "However, what the Empire wants isn''t something you can give. Perhaps even the Tear of Kalarac, your Crown Jewel can''t compare. Otherwise, your father wouldn''t be a flayed corpse. Your back is against a glassy, fractured wall, and you''re about to tumble from the 15th floor.


    Seeing your plight, my father sends me to offer you Kars'' protection¡ªin exchange for a few things." In less than five minutes, the situation went from negotiation to coercion. And though Oliver couldn''t digest the implications, as the future monarch and protector of 200 million lives, he had no other choice.


    "What do you want?" Oliver asked. With his father''s death, Nargoz lost its only Archon. And with its military''s level, to say nothing of the empire. Any one of the grand dukes could effortlessly trample it. Such was the gap between the true Arcadian high nobility and the tributary kingdoms. A supportive Klaus was indeed his only hope, and Kilian saw that right off the bat.


    Klaus dared not get attached to things he couldn''t protect from himself. Therefore, his mysterious guardian aside, he didn''t have friends. Only servants and tools. Since Oliver understood that truth better than Kilian, the talk could proceed smoothly. But even with his father''s crushing pressure, there were things Kilian knew Oliver would never agree to. Those two things, he''d snatch.


    "Simple. For the next 100 years, Nargoz trades only with Kars. Orstalph, zuri, knife-staves, dra reactors, all will come from Kars. Naturally, we set the prices." Although zuri was the number one mineral of magitech matters, most couldn''t afford it in large quantities. At the state level, orstalph became the cheaper option. And while overall less efficient, orstalph was more malleable than zuri. Still, though the largest reserves lay in Kars, most countries and duchies had substantial quantities.


    On top of other requirements, by forbidding Nargoz from exploiting its own reserves, Kilian was forcing them to become Kars'' economic slave. Let''s not mention the Blood Court. Even Oliver couldn''t contain his fury. But as he neared his outburst, Kilian cut, "In exchange, you will receive three Crystal Lords and 12 Zurishell-equipped guards," and instantly, all dissent vanished.


    Equipped of three meters tall, amethyst power armors, with refraction fields, stasis fields and dra lasers able to blast a city into dust with a casual strike, Kars'' Crystal Lords stood at the peak of Arcadia''s military might, a match for even the empire''s Golden Knights. More importantly, they represented Klaus'' will.


    With those three alone, before attacking Nargoz, the empire would first have to confront Kars. How could Oliver not be elated.


    His lips stretched into a broad grin, but then he wondered if the boy had such authority, and as if anticipating his words, Kilian pulled out his letter of credence stamped with Klaus'' Mystical Seal.


    Before the glowing amethyst eagle, Nargoz''s August Orphan had nothing to add, and bowed in thanks.


    "No need for false pretense. From now on, Nargoz is in your care. As long as you don''t threaten our foundation and future, we will do our best to meet your expectations," Oliver humbled himself to stroke Kilian''s ego. But at that time, Kilian swept the Blood Court, seeking among them the true reason for his eager visit¡ªbut failed to find her.


    "I do not see Her Highness," Kilian said, and the Blood Court answered his words with hardening gazes and clenching fists. Even Oliver and his queen showed complex looks.


    "Well, how can I say this? My sister...hasn''t left her chambers in the last three years. I''d rather not disturb her."


    8: The Monster of Nargoz (Part 1)


    Eleonora von Veidt, princess of Nargoz. Despite being born with outstanding magical talents, she rejected the arcane path to dedicate herself to the pursuit of martial excellence.


    Though the incomprehensible choice made her the high nobility''s laughingstock, she persisted, and proved an outstanding martial talent, becoming a High Templar at the tender age of 19. Unlike most scions of royalty or high nobility, Eleonora refused to study at the Imperial Academy, preferring the teachings of her bloodkin ancestors instead. Moved by her devotion, her father made her head of the royal guard.


    Still, knowing that templars couldn''t reach Archon tier, not many took her seriously. The focus soon shifted on the tales of her peerless elegance and enrapturing beauty, with many Junior Dukes and Princes pledging to claim either the hand or body. Such ridiculous tales had long since stopped shocking Kilian.


    Arcadia''s aristocracy was a circle jerk of bored imbeciles. Commoners of various classes did the real work, keeping the economy spinning for their noble masters whose absolute military power prevented all revolt. Unless they focused on the arts or Unique Disciplines such as Technomancy, most aristocrats spent their lives accumulating power to abuse it. Unavoidably, Eleonora became a major priority.


    However, little did anyone expect that two years after her promotion, the martial queen would sink into depression, give up her position, dye her black hair purple, and vanish from public sight. Alarmed, the previous king attempted all he could to bring Eleonora out of seclusion, but failed in each attempt.


    With no other recourse, he chose the extreme road and gave her husbands¡ªthey vanished one after the other. Yes, across the four years following Eleonora''s self-confinement, she received four husbands that all vanished on the wedding night. Realizing that perhaps, marriage prospects didn''t make his daughter ecstatic, the king gave up¡ªand was flayed by Emperor Niklas a few months afterward.


    And now hearing Kilian ask for his accursed sister''s whereabout, a sister he planned to murder, Oliver couldn''t stop his heartbeat from spiraling out of control. Did Kars'' Junior Duke also crave his crazed sister''s bosom? He wondered, and prayed to all the gods that didn''t exist that he was wrong.


    Sensing the awkwardness settle in, Kilian inwardly chuckled.


    "As expected, to say nothing of the Tear of Kalarac, he dares not give me Eleonora''s hand in marriage. But Oliver, the choice isn''t yours to make," Kilian thought and flashed a harmless smile at his future brother-in-law.


    "No need to quiver. I understand your concerns and merely spoke out of curiosity. If she doesn''t wish to appear, so be it. After we draft and sign the agreement, I shall send a message to Kars, and have my father give you what is due. In the meantime, let''s adjourn this meeting," Kilian spoke in a more formal tone and stood up. After abusing his bargaining chips and milking Nargoz to this extent, Oliver wouldn''t doubt his motives.


    Although Klaus would gain more benefits than expected, Kilian knew that it made no difference. For the current Kars, controlling Nargoz''s economy was, at best, a distraction. If anything, though they didn''t realize it yet, Nargoz profited a lot more than Kars'' did.


    Standing up, Kilian let two maids lead the way toward his chambers, but as he left, didn''t forget to cast Oliver''s queen a furtive gaze. Well, furtive enough that only the royal couple saw it. Instantly, Oliver''s eyes narrowed, and after Kilian departed, he leaned toward Kathrin.


    "According to my intel, though a masterful scholar, this Kilian von Karsten mentally collapsed from the myriads of assassination attempts on his life, both internal and external, and now uses lust to keep his mind at peace. A notorious rake, he deflowered most of Kars'' noble ladies, and even fills some married beds. Perhaps we can put this to use," Oliver whispered in his wife''s ear, and her face contorted into a frown.


    "You mean me?" Kathrin countered, with her hardened gaze staring into Oliver''s.


    "I naturally won''t have you compromise yourself, but these are sensitive times. I will have a banquet thrown tomorrow in the boy''s honor and let you sit beside him. We will also bring several of our most attractive handmaidens to the festivities. If he shows genuine interest, entertain him long enough to put him under your thrall and use that spell. We can then use the handmaidens and blackmail him into giving us more benefits. This is definitely not Kars'' limit." Oliver replied and kissed his queen''s cheek.


    Although her long loose curls and sanguine eyes were the norm in the Blood Court, Kathrin stood out with an unearthly seductive appeal that, following Eleonora''s disappearance, made many dub her the Crown Jewel of Nargoz. Though mostly out of flattery, the words testified to her beauty, which Oliver hoped could subdue Kars'' teenaged heir. Still, Kathrin felt unsettled, and pulled her head back.


    "He''s the heir of Klaus, the future son-in-law of Rulweil. In military might, those are Arcadia''s mightiest duchies. In prestige, only the imperial family''s high-level can compare. I can allow you to use me to test rumors, but should they prove correct, do you truly dare antagonize him? I know that you''ve never digested Klaus'' eternal superiority, but you can''t use his son to vent your spleen," Kathrin said, and hearing his wife talk of his childhood rival''s "eternal superiority," Oliver struggled to contain a surge of emotions.


    Pulling in a deep breath, he reclined in his chair, and swept his court.


    "This has nothing to do with Klaus. Look at them, the so-called Blood Court. Today, out of fear of the empire''s might, they gather like a flock of birds toward the holy light. But once assured of Nargoz''s safety, they will be the first to bite us both." Oliver stated, and as his words trailed in Kathrin''s mind, his eyes went from one noble to another.


    "I will be one of the few non-Archon kings in Nargoz''s history. Bloodkins have twice humanity''s lifespan, but the same magical talent, and unique racial abilities. Why then do we cower in their shadow? Numbers? No, it has always been internal strife. We stand here because the Blood Court excels at butchering its own future.


    Kars'' Crystal Lords may protect us from outside threats, but will they bare their arms at the internal ones? I don''t think so. Which is why we need more power, more agreements, more insurance. Right now, I don''t care to fall in this Kilian''s bad graces. Unless Klaus dies early, he won''t be Duke of Kars before several centuries. A compromised Junior Duke''s ire is something I can handle. Just follow my lead."


    Knowing that there was no room for concession in Oliver''s tone, and aware of his difficulties, Kathrin no longer argued.


    9: The Monster of Nargoz (Part 2)


    A welcome change from Kars'' dazzling crystal walls, Nargoz''s stygian atmosphere brought Kilian a certain peace, enabling him to put the demons in his mind at ease. Two bodyguards flanked his large suite''s door, while the rest occupied their assigned rooms in silence.


    As Killian stated, those 12 members of the Seared Hearts were nothing more than his jailors. Protecting him from harm was a consequence, not the aim of their duty. Having fought with and killed more than one, Kilian knew very well of their fanatical tendencies. Just like Wilfried, they lived and died for Klaus'' glory¡ªnothing else mattered.


    But as the 12 stood watchful of any suspicious move, Kilian rubbed his chest, and while a dynamic, holographic replica took his place, he vanished from the room. An anti-heat-sensor mechanism that made Kilian''s hologram project the same infrared radiations as his body swindled the 12 guards, preventing them from sensing his departure.


    As Klaus said, Wilfried sometimes overthought things and took unnecessary actions. If Kilian wished to escape, it wasn''t those 12 that''d stop him. Breaking down into detached, invisible molecules, Kilian bypassed the walls and reappeared on top of Nargoz''s Chiropteran Tower. From there, he swept the stygian kingdom.


    "Mother, father, here I take the first step of my fell rebellion. Blood will flow, the self-destructive and innocent alike will suffer, but to avenge your tears, even if it wrenches my heart, I will not stop until Klaus'' dreams are torn to shreds.


    If heaven embraced you, will you renounce me?


    If hell stole you, will you welcome me?


    I don''t know, yet dearly hope, that one day I can see you two smiling once more¡ªbeyond the phantasms of my dreamscapes," Kilian whispered, and as per his tribe''s customs, gashed his palm to let his blood flow toward the ground. Arcadians may have lost their faith, but the remote tribes still held on to some ancient traditions.


    In Kilian''s fallen tribe, a child cutting open his palm to drip his blood on his parents'' grave was the greatest form of filial piety. Alas, Kilian didn''t have a grave to shed his blood onto, and so could only spread it from the highest vantage point, hoping that the wind would carry some droplets to his beloved¡ªit didn''t.


    Death was the starting point of a new journey. As Kilian would come to accept, the world had neither heaven nor hell¡ªonly endless reincarnations. But as Kilian''s open wound healed at abnormal speed, night replaced dusk, and the scent of fear swelled from Nargoz''s streets.


    Due to all the rituals and genetic enhancing that surrounded his birth and growth, even on Arcadian standards, Kilian was an anomaly. Sight, smell, physical abilities, even without knowledge of dra manipulation, he could now rival Core Templars like Viktor. No, in terms of pure senses, he left them far behind.


    Only Klaus understood the roots of his unique condition, something he kept hidden from all besides that mysterious old fogey others dreaded. And now, this condition warned Kilian of a danger in Nargoz''s night. With a smile, he stretched out his arms, and from beneath his aristocratic garb, black plates surged, tearing off the fabric and turning Kilian into a walking mech suit.


    With an obsidian metal that devoured the moonlight, a helmet shaped like a ravenous demon knight, retractable energy wings and 2.5 meters of height, Kilian''s power armor made his guards'' Zurishells look like rotten cabbage. But in fact, it wasn''t that much stronger. Klaus called it the Fallen Angel Armor, a name Kilian always found puzzling.


    A prototype straight out of Klaus'' labs, the Fallen Angel Armor was a bridge between the Zurishells and the Crystal Lord Armor. And while all Zurishells and Power Armors required extensive training, only High Templars or anomalies such as Kilian could endure the toll of the Fallen Angel Armor.


    Activating his bright-red visor, Kilian scanned all activity across 50 square kilometers and cloaked himself to patrol Nargoz''s streets. Although he initially had other plans laid out, should he catch bloodkin cabals preying on Nargoz''s citizens, Kilian didn''t doubt that Oliver would dance on his tune.


    Men, women and children alike rushed back into storeyed houses of thick black stones and hip roofs. If their hurried moves and fright-torn faces didn''t paint a vivid enough picture, the sudden gathering of blood hunters and their huntmasters in various key corners of the city put Kilian on maximum alert.


    Mauve mist surged from Nargoz''s streets, filling the many quarters with overwhelming clouds whose indiscernible magical nature contrasted with the city''s natural mist.


    Twelve huntmasters currently guarded the streets, each with six blood hunters by his side. The massive mastiffs growled, eyes glowing red as they stared at the source of the sudden cloud of mist. And while all those huntmasters were top-level Core Templars, unease creased their brows.


    "It''s time," said a senior huntmaster through an earchip, and instantly, all his peers stretched out their hands, summoning long blood lances while eerie, slithering sounds came from narrow corners.


    Sitting on top of a three-storeyed house, Kilian watched as sanguine fog gathered around the huntmasters, and their hounds aligned, ready to pounce on the expected threat.


    And so it began.


    Crack


    Faster than the first huntmaster could react, a serpentine figure emerged from his back, constricted his arms, limbs and neck in its monstrous snake tail, and snapped all his bones with one squeeze. The huntmaster''s eyes widened, his lips parted, and his tongue flopped over as he struggled to choke out his final words¡ªthey never came.


    The serpentine figure''s blurred upper body snaked around the huntmaster, and it sank its fangs in his jugular, tearing through flesh and veins to siphon all his blood. The red liquor gushed forth, splattering the creature as its blood feast went on. Only now did Kilian get a glimpse of the fiend''s true form.


    With the upper body of a female and the lower end of a mighty constrictor, she moved with predatory grace and boundless bloodlust in her bright-red eyes. Dozens of purple serpents adorned her head, all matching the uncanny shade of her scaly tail. Hissing in a mixture of glee and thirst, the snakes lashed at the blood hunters, expanding endlessly to fasten the disoriented mastiffs.


    Without their huntmaster or bloodkin lord to control them, the blood hunters lost much of their efficiency, becoming easy prey for the vampiric medusa''s serpent to feast on¡ªand feast they did.


    As the abomination pulled out her fangs, releasing the atrophied bloodkin from her grasp, her snakes dined on the thrashing mastiffs necks. Resistance proved futile, and by the time the huntmaster reached the ground, his mastiffs no longer had the tiniest drop of blood in them.


    The vampiric medusa glanced at the barricaded houses in the distance, sneered, and ignored them to lunge at the nearest huntmaster.


    Seeing this, Kilian couldn''t prevent his lips from curling into a smile.


    10: The Monster of Nargoz (Final Part)


    A night of gory screams followed. With a black corset covering her toned torso and heavy breasts, the vampiric medusa, or vannorin as most scholars dubbed them, snuck on and exsanguinated each of the huntmasters. They didn''t have the time to scream, to rebel against their fate or strive for salvation. No, they crumbled, one after the other like gagged babes before a crocodile.


    Only the growls and barks of the thrashing blood hunters could potentially warn bystanders of the ineffective police''s misery. On the one hand, this vannorin could compare to a top-level High Emissary, while on the other hand, the huntmasters failed to realize that the mauve mist...was her body.


    As long as they remained in that mist, she could appear and disappear as she pleased, and even dull their senses. With their inferior abilities, how could they compete? Before the battle started, they were already dead. Holding the last huntmaster''s neck in her jaw, the vannorin dragged him back to the city''s center, and had her snakes wrap and pull the 11 others alongside their blood hunters. Piling them all up to form a grand tower, the vannorin placed her last meal on top, and snapped her fingers.


    One red pentagram condensed and swirled at her left, as a pole of solidified blood surged from the ground to impale the corpse-tower.


    "As macabre as she''s beautiful," Kilian thought, for beneath the monstrous hide, the vannorin hid quite the beauty. While she kept the upper half of her face hidden by a blindfold, from the contours, nose and lips, Kilian could imagine the beauty hiding under all the fiendish facade.


    With her enemies dispatched, the vannorin lady turned from the slaughter, keen to vanish into the night¡ªshe wouldn''t. A dome of black light split the mauve mist screen from above, and from it, an armored man emerged. With the horned, alien-like helmet of a demon knight, a majestic obsidian armor and large energy wings, he appeared like a figure straight out of a sheltered princess'' nightmares.


    His visor glowed crimson, and arms folded, the armored man dropped on the ground, facing his monstrous foe with naked indifference.


    "I didn''t expect that on this trip, I''d joust with a Fehl Beast. That''s about 100 times better than a blooddrinker. I wonder, who are you that Oliver only leaves this motley crew to deal with you?" Kilian asked, and modified by his helmet, his voice echoed like a cacophony of infernal voices.


    With her attention snatched by Kilian''s appearance, the vannorin stared into his scarlet visor, neither advancing nor retreating. But as he met her gaze, Kilian frowned. Fehl was a name, a race, an Arcane Discipline, a plane, but most importantly, a taint. Just like dra was omnipresent, permeating all corners of the world, Fehl existed in all places, in every breath, in water, in the sky and the earth. All breathed it, but in some, it would one day trigger a reaction: the Fehl Taint.


    Most arcane researchers claimed the taint linked to an unidentifiable gene present in some but absent in the many. Others, however, believed Fehl sentient, and that in its perpetual depravity, it chose its victims. Regardless of the truth, those tainted by Fehl would instantly develop a mutation, becoming Fehl Mutants.


    If there was one thing the world didn''t tolerate, it was the Fehl Taint. Though made superior to their peers, Fehl Mutants typically started out harmless, but once they developed Fehl Magic, the taint would gradually worsen until they finally morphed into Fehl Beasts¡ªcreatures of pure madness driven solely by hedonism and destruction.


    Who could tolerate them?


    That added to the fact that mutants and beasts aside, only Fehl Daemons could use that horribly powerful magic, regardless of race or affiliations, all hunted the Fehl-tainted. For those unable to conceal their mutations, dark forests and secluded cults were their sole options.


    With pureblooded humans, random mutations occurred. But in others, the result always was the same. Bloodkins for example always became vannorin.


    However, despite the Fehl Taint, Kilian could see that the Vannorin Fehl Beast before him retained her full mental faculties.


    How did she accomplish that? No, if she could accomplish that, she no longer was a Fehl Beast but a genuine daemoness.


    "Who are you? A dog of the Arcadian Empire, or of the Technocracy?" She asked as her snake hair hissed in expectation. Behind his helmet, Kilian''s eyelids twitched.


    "It''s been centuries since the Technocracy fell. As for the Arcadian Empire, it doesn''t have this much swagger," Kilian leisurely replied and stepped forward. Feeling the threatening aura rising from his armored form, the vannorin lady stretched her clawed hands out.


    "Third Circle Spell: Hellstorm." With no arcane gestures, three pentagram-shaped circles appeared above her head, firing a deluge of red lightning bolts and barbaric, dark wind squalls that barreled into Kilian.


    His black energy wings glittered in their stygian shade, the lightning bolts skewered his blurring form, and he reappeared behind the vannorin to place an armored kiss on the nape of her neck.


    "How can you start a relationship with lightning bolts? With such a fiery temper, you will never find a husband¡ªmight as well marry me," Kilian jested, but incensed by the words, the vannorin spun and swept her claws at his protected neck. The move hadn''t reached Kilian that he bashed his right fist into the vannorin''s abdomen, releasing five dark blades that shot from his knuckles and skewered the enraged lady.


    But while her mauve blood spilled from five holes, the vannorin flew backward from the fist''s impact and crashed into the adjacent wall.


    "In my human form, I am not your match. But once I don this armor, throughout Nargoz, not many can withstand my blows. Why don''t you do the both of us a favor and give up?" Kilian seriously asked, but taking the words as insults, the vannorin leaped from the rubble, soared into the sky, and with her tail zigzagging at her back, she dropped on Kilian.


    Lunging at the vannorin with an elbow strike, Kilian struck her neck, but watched her collapse in mauve mist to reappear as his left. Defying gravity, he spun to stab her heart, but again she faded and rematerialized above him.


    Throwing his leg like a scorpion tail, Kilian struck the daemoness'' temple, but now she stood at his back.


    "You lost," she whispered. Like Kilian realized beforehand, the mist was her body. Unless it vanished, she could dissipate and reappear wherever it stood. But bent in such a twisted position, no human one could escape her grasp, or so she thought.


    As with the huntmasters, the vannorin wrapped around Kilian''s neck and limbs, aiming to crush armor and bones with her tail''s overpowering grip¡ªa fatal mistake. Two cannons sprouted from Kilian''s lower back, firing beams of condensed blue dra that hit the daemonic creature point blank. At the same time, Kilian''s wings kicked into gear, and while the shafts of light blasted his foe several meters away, he flew out of her range, then dove back to slam into her like a flaming meteor.


    Battered like a ragdoll, the vannorin cratered and spurted a large moutful of blood. Kilian stretched out his arms, causing mini-dra-cannons and gatling lasers to sprout from his torso, hands, knees and shoulders. At the same time, the Fallen Angel Armor released Dra Vacuums that siphoned all the mauve mist and left the vannorin defenseless.


    "That, beautiful, is how you win," Kilian chided before unloading unending rounds of sky-blue dra beams and lasers on his collapsed foe. Stone, dust and burning smoke sprang up as the relentless dra strike battered the weakened vannorin.


    But while her lifeforce dwindled, a massive scarlet energy shield sprang up, repelling the full-force of his artillery, and buying the vannorin enough time to turn into a sanguine mist and escape through the ground.


    Crack


    By the time Kilian''s beams and laser rounds crushed the blood barrier, the vannorin was long gone. But instead of examining her escape path, Kilian spun toward the royal palace and flew toward it.

 4 From Junior Duke to King Consort Bundled Arc, Part 2

    11: If You Marry Me (Part 1)


    Isolated from other quarters, Princess Eleonora''s chambers directly faced Nargoz''s Chiropteran Tower, with the coiling statue''s eyes staring at her glass windows. Like other castle rooms, hers maintained Nargoz''s textbook ominous atmosphere, with jet-black furniture and sanguine tapestry depicting chiropterans and bloodkins gorging themselves in blood feasts. But in a rather uncanny display, even for Nargoz, white candles burned on top of the princess'' bedside, with flickering scarlet flames from which cracking bones and heartbeats resounded.


    Dressed in a white nightgown, Eleonora lay on top of her queen-size bed, her wrists and ankles bound by thick black chains, and her eyes tightly shut. The deafening noises of a brutal confrontation reverberated from the flickering flames, and a silent force snuffed the candle out.


    Eleonora''s eyes opened, and while her long, spread out hair shimmered in an otherworldly purple, her eyes remained the same blood-red of the Nargozi royals. Hard, distant eyes concealing a world of blood rage.


    "Ailith?" Eleonora called, and in a whirlwind of red clouds, a purple-haired maid appeared beside her bed and bowed in greetings.


    "Mistress?" The maid curtsied, then stood with her head bowed, awaiting her mistress'' orders. Blood hunters and huntmasters were all born alongside their bloodkin, condensed from their Arcane Bloodline. But while at birth, Ailith possessed black hair, after her mistress'' transformation, she too took the purple shade.


    "The puppet was crushed. The foe is at least as strong as that brother of mine, if not stronger. However, he doesn''t belong to Nargoz. Judging from his armor, he''s not using traditional empire technology. And while we''ve seen some moves of a neo Technocracy, there''s no certainty, yet. Which means that the most likely invader¡­is Kars," Eleonora inferred, and her candles burst, leaving behind red mist that wrapped her form and snuck into her veins.


    "Make an inventory of all foreign dignitaries in the last 24 hours. If Kars was in the lot, give me all the names and¡ª" before she could finish her words, an amalgam of detached molecules passed by Eleonora''s window and landed at her bedside. Rematerializing into his human form, Kilian wiped the debris on the bedside table with one swipe, and sat beside the chained Eleonora.


    "Hi, chained princess...or bdsm lover. Sorry for making you wait so long, horrible traffic." The words had barely left Kilian''s lips that dozens of blood-red vortexes filled all corners of the room. Red flames surged from Ailith''s form, with her knotted ponytail swaying alongside them.


    From each vortex, the heads of blood hunters 50% larger than the ones the fake vannorin''s snakes exsanguinated, emerged. But while a daunting spectacle, the appearance of the 48 growling beasts didn''t alarm Kilian. Most bloodkin royals were born with about 15 blood hunters, while Eleonora was legendary for her 100 feral soldiers. The maid, however, disturbed him.


    "By becoming a Fehl Daemoness, she should have lost her huntmaster, or at least the connection between them. But obviously that is not the case. Better, they''re still scaling to her level," Kilian reasoned.


    Should the true Eleonora have appeared, with her bloodkin abilities enhanced by her Fehl Mutation, Kilian didn''t doubt the battle would have taken an entirely different turn. That puppet most likely didn''t contain more than 15% of her true abilities. But through his genetically enhanced retina, Kilian could see that in terms of aura and Dra Level alone, Ailith reached the top-level High Emissary standard.


    But as Kilian rethought his previous appraisal, the growling beasts opened their maws, each condensing a human-head-sized scarlet ball of baleful dra, each aiming at him. Overwhelmed by the malevolent forces, the room temperature sank to -20 celsius. But protected by his ever-warm blood, Kilian barely felt it.


    "Oh calm your ovaries will you? I know I''m irresistible, but pouncing on me on the first meeting is not a solution. Your mistress is watching," Kilian chortled at the maid whose luscious curves stretched her traditional outfit, and turned to face Eleonora.


    Though trapped in this ungainly position, Eleonora''s body emanated grace and elegance that seemed etched in her bones. And though Kilian had often heard tales of the Nargozi beauty, they paled before the figure in the flesh. Unlike the bloodkins'' typical scheming eyes, Eleonora''s were frank and direct, piercing and uncompromising¡ªyet lost nothing of her captivating appeal. No, they only enhanced it.


    And though her small, purple lips didn''t have the plumpness some men sought, when they parted, Kilian had to restrain the impulsion of kissing them on the spot.


    "For someone that may die at any time, you seem oddly confident," Eleonora started in a paradoxical voice, as oppressive as it was compelling.


    "That''s because I know that you can''t bear harming me. Alright I''m kidding, you just can''t kill me. Across Nargoz, no one can," Kilian replied, and while at first, she found the words conceited, recalling how Kilian passed her window through demolecularization, Eleonora no longer doubted the words.


    "But it''s not your power and therefore must exhaust your batteries. I could just play the long game, wait for you to exhaust yourself, then tear your head off," she countered with the smile of a divine enchantress.


    "You could try, princess, but then we would just have to put one another''s skills to the test. And I would have to give up what I came for¡ªa regrettable outcome."


    "Which is?"


    "Your hand, of course. I want to save and marry you." Kilian''s reply took both Eleonora and Ailith aback. While in the past, men gunning for the princess'' hand were in large supplies, after the four lethal wedding nights, the situation drastically changed.


    "Who are you?" In today''s Arcadia''s those that dared court Eleonora''s hand were...inexistent. Which brought them all to that inevitable question. Tilting his head to the right, Kilian curled his lips into a lopsided grin, and spoke for both Eleonora and Ailith.


    "Kilian von Karsten."


    Immediately, Ailith raised her left hand, closing the vortexes, and making all blood hunters retreat to their dimension. Puzzled, Eleonora squinted at Kilian.


    "The heir of Klaus?" She said, more for herself than Kilian.


    "Indeed. Sucks to be the son of a famous man. People no longer care about who you are, and just remember the family name and status," Kilian sighed and stood up, crawling on the chain-laden bed to cover Eleonora with his frame.


    "Ailith, bite off his carotid," Eleonora ordered, and Ailith turned into a three meters tall scarlet wolf to pounce on Kilian''s neck. The Fallen Angel Armor automatically covered Kilian''s frame, and he clenched his right fist.


    "Stasis."


    One word, and the fluctuation of time throughout the room came to a halt. From the most volatile forces to the least offensive of atoms, all stopped moving. Behind his visor, Kilian still stared at his future wife''s sanguine eyes, while Eleonora''s defiant stare met him without flinching.


    In this Statis state, although Kilian could ground everything across fifteen meters to a halt, he was no exception. However, unlike the rest, he maintained his mental faculties, and as soon as the skill wore off, could react.


    After five seconds of Stasis, Ailith''s lunge resumed, but with a duck, Kilian let her fly by, took his visor down, and lay beside Eleonora¡ªthe maid crashed in the adjacent wall.


    "No need for violence. Alright, I forgot a tiny detail. I also want the Tear of Kalarac," Kilian said, and again the atmosphere took a 180 turn.


    12: If You Marry Me (Part 2)


    From the start, Eleonora didn''t believe that her charm alone pulled the Junior Duke of Kars all the way to Nargoz. But never could she expect that her new suitor was greedy enough to covet what even the empire didn''t dare snatch.


    "I pondered the question for a long time, and it just so happens that you and I are the best match. In today''s Arcadia, only I dare marry you. Only I am willing to risk Nargoz''s outrage to free you from captivity and give you the vengeance you so dearly seek. At the same time, only you can free me from my predicament and help me claim the Tear. What do you say?" Kilian asked, making Eleonora realize that the rumors about the rakish Junior Duke didn''t deserve much credit.


    "You''re the betrothed of Anke von Karsten-Rulweil, no woman in Arcadia dares marry you¡ªexpect me, of course. Why you''d want to ruin a match even imperial princes crave, I don''t know. But you''re right about that. Now the question is, how could you possibly use the Tear? Even bloodkins can''t channel it, to say nothing of a human teen," Eleonora countered.


    Though a monstrous race whose insatiable hunger ruined civilizations, chiropterans possessed a unique trait: throughout their immortal lives, they could each shed one Blood Tear.


    The Blood Tear contained the expression of thrice the strongest magical powers the chiropteran would achieve in his life. Indeed, like a divination stone, the Blood Tear accurately calculated the limit its owner would reach, and tripled it.


    Shedding the Tear was no mean feat and required an eruption of the chiropteran''s most heartfelt emotions. Interestingly, anyone besides the owner could theoretically use the Tear. But because it siphoned an outrageous quantity of lifeforce, humans and bloodkins couldn''t.


    In ancient times, chiropterans attempted to force tears out of one another, but met total failure. Once they shed their tear, however, they lost all human emotions, becoming cold herders and barbaric killing machines.


    It was during the Eternal Night that, for reasons still unknown, Kalarac, the Eldest of the Chiropteran Dynasty, shed his Tear and entrusted it to his first bloodkin vassals. And Following his mystery-laced retreat, he left it behind.


    "My body is special and can endure the Tear''s negative effects. But before I can seize it, we must first¡­"


    "Obtain Oliver''s assistance, or make me the reigning Queen of Nargoz," Eleonora finished for Kilian. And seeing the two lying on the bed in such an intimate exchange, Ailith¡ªstill encased in the wall¡ªcouldn''t believe that a few minutes prior, Kilian broke in through the window.


    "And that''s where I come into play. Although your powers probably surpass mine, only I hold both the will and ability to make you queen¡ªa seat you can''t take without crushing your brother''s skull.


    I will give you the crown and all its authority. The state and its 200 million citizens. Lay down plans to prevent you from suffering Oliver''s incomming fate, and give you the freedom to live as you see fit. The only thing I can''t promise you, is a man''s true love and utter devotion, because I too have bills to collect and a blood ladder to climb.


    Knowing this, will you marry me?" The mild words thundered in Eleonora''s mind, and pushing against her chains, she pulled her face closer to Kilian, nearly brushing her lips against his.


    "You won''t ask the details of how I became the way I am?"


    "I don''t need to know. But if you speak, I will listen."


    "What about the previous marriages and the roots of our family grudge?"


    "I know the gist. But if you speak, I will listen."


    "How about trust? Do you think you can trust a snake?"


    This time, Kilian paused, and flashed Eleonora the most enrapturing smile she''d faced in her life.


    "I know enough to realize that you''re just like me. Broken, yes. Callous, yes. But though you may commit heinous acts, you will never bare your fangs at someone that treats you with sincerity. That being the case, I have nothing to fear." In the instant those words left his lips, Kilian could swear that in Eleonora''s eyes, he saw a different person. The feeling didn''t last a second, and for the first time in four years, the princess chuckled.


    "Very well, as long as you can take the key to my anti-magic chains from my brother and obtain his submission, I will give you my hand," Eleonora replied, and turned away from Kilian.


    "Ailith, from now on, you must obey all of the Junior Duke''s orders and help him in whatever way he wishes you to," Eleonora added before closing her eyes. Regaining her human form, Ailith flew out of the cracked wall, and as if nothing had occurred, curtsied toward Kilian. However, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed her.


    "I''ve had eyes on you for a long time and did my homework. If everything goes according to plan, your huntmaster won''t be necessary. But if her strength and knowledge can be of use, I will let you know," Kilian said, stood up, and split into detached molecules to fly back into his chambers.


    As soon as Kilian departed, Ailith spun toward her mistress, showing a gaze full of confusion.


    "Mistress, this is unwise. As long as we keep up with the hunt, in a year at worst, you will regain enough powers to crush your chains. As for that Oliver, with I here, how could he harm you? That Kilian plays the strings of human emotions and is as cunning as his father. You can''t trust him," With heaving breasts and trembling fists, Ailith rushed toward Eleonora''s side and made her case.


    But while she usually took her longtime servant''s advice, this time, Eleonora shook her head.


    "Ailith, what is our kind''s greatest woe?"


    "Our world is barren of sincerity."


    "Right, no matter how hard we try, we are cursed to never find anyone able to treat us with genuineness. You say he''s playing with the strings of my emotions, but with Kars'' ressources, Nargoz''s current predicament and a few schemes, he can force Oliver to hand over the Tear. Instead, he chose to make me feel indispensable. That being the case, I will return the favor and give him a chance," Eleonora replied, and seeing the rare smile stretching her mistress'' lips, Ailith couldn''t bear to argue. How many centuries had it been since the last time?


    13: Baits


    The Fallen Angel Armor''s dra core enabled Kilian to use Demolecularization and Stasis five times per day. Each use couldn''t last over five seconds, and he could also shapeshift into the appearance of whoever he wanted. Kilian obtained the armor at 15, and as he grew, a multitude of experiments and genetic enhancement enabled him to draw more power from it.


    But though the sky-blue dra core embedded in his chest seemed to be the armor''s source, as time flew by, Kilian was starting to wonder if Klaus didn''t cheat him. Did the core enable him to summon the armor, or did it just facilitate the process? He wondered.


    As soon as Kilian returned to his chambers, the dynamic hologram vanished, making the bodyguards sense a tiny disruption in the room''s heat flow. In tandem, they rushed into the bedroom, but seeing their Junior Duke sitting cross-legged with a stern, authoritative gaze, they wondered if he''d not been waiting for them.


    "Junior Duke, does¡ª" A bodyguard began, but with a hand wave, Kilian cut him.


    "You have a new assignment. Tomorrow morning, I want you to pursue three people and stand ready for my orders. This is for the benefit of Kars and His Grace. Do not fail them," Kilian said, and as soon as the words "benefit of Kars and His Grace" echoed, the 12 bowed in agreement, then withdrew to their rooms.


    With a smirk, Kilian fell asleep.


    On the following day, Nargozi maids knocked on Kilian''s door to warn him of the impending banquet. As with all other Children of the Night, moonlight kept bloodkins awake and on maximum alert, while the sunlight somewhat dulled their senses. For that reason, they tended to trivial matters such as sleep and mandatory parties during the day, and worked at night. Then again, with Nargoz''s overcast sky, the sunlight never had much sway, anyway.


    Undisturbed, Kilian let them in. But instead of the expected maids, three bloodkin handmaidens appeared at his doorstep. With black, skin-tight maxi dresses cut at the left leg and exposing their flawless curves, they instantly gripped the male eye. As expected, Oliver researched Kilian''s life and deeds in Kars, then provided baits to test his findings.


    Suppressing a sneer, Kilian flashed the ladies a gentle smile, and ogled them long enough to show rising interest, but short enough that his stare didn''t appear forced or excessive.


    "Your Lordship, Her Highness sent us to get you appropriately dressed for the occasion. We can''t have the Blood Court feel that Kars looks down on its customs???now can we?" They rhetorically asked, using their status as Kathrin''s handmaidens to cover the fact that they did Oliver''s bidding.


    "Well then, do your thing," Kilian replied in a sultry tone, and stretched out his arms toward the three. After curtsying to show off their cleavage, they ambled toward him, untied his belt, and took down his ducal robe to help him into Nargoz''s traditional black and red robe.


    With low magic potential, unless they broke the blood-drinking restrictions, those three could at best rise to Core Emissaries. Nargoz had no shortage of those, therefore Oliver promised them to have Kilian take them back as his official mistresses.


    As the Arcadian saying went, better be the emperor''s mistress than an imperial dukes'' primary wife. And although Kilian couldn''t claim imperial status, calling him a future overlord was no exaggeration¡ªthe three leaped on the opportunity.


    Little did they know that Kilian saw through and inwardly laughed at their petty thoughts. Perhaps if they knew how Anke dealt with the noblewomen unfortunate enough to fall into his bed, they wouldn''t be so enthusiastic.


    Now dressed in a black robe mixing a dark ecclesiastic flair with bright-red flame patterns, and laden by the epaulettes of a high noble, Kilian stood ready for the banquet.


    Taking several steps back, the three handmaiden observed the result of their work, and prompted by a sudden impulse, said in tandem: "Your Lordship is sure to steal all the ladies'' hearts."


    They spoke their mind, for indeed, look-wise, Kilian overshadowed even his father. While in a society full of genetic enhancement, good looks were nothing special, Kilian''s sapphire eyes always possessed a fiendish allure, that despite his average height, forced onlookers to look up to him.


    He was the complete opposite of Klaus'' amiable aura¡ªbut those handmaidens loved every bit of it.


    "Have I stolen yours, then?" Kilian asked, and not knowing how to reply, the three lowered their heads and blushed in shame. But even as he smiled at them, Kilian had to curb a sigh. Most people believed themselves unique. Just like those three ladies that deep down thought that unlike the others, they could ingrain themselves in his heart, and make him yearn for them only. Yet, most followed established patterns, and whoever learned those patterns could see through the hearts of men and women alike.


    Klaus was a master at that game. And though he didn''t wish to acknowledge it, Kilian learned a lot from him. Kilian didn''t look down on those ladies for wanting to use their assets to seize a better future for themselves. Arcadia was a world for men. The women able to claim a bright future through skills alone, all were exceptionally gifted. The rest could either thrive through petty wiles, or submit to whatever fate had in store for them.


    But just like he didn''t look down on them, he wouldn''t give them a free pass, either. Outliving their poor choices was their job, not his. Just like he never stopped Anke from butchering those ladies that aimed to bewitch him, he wouldn''t go out of his way to protect those three, either. For if on one thing he had a clear conscience, it was that he never deceived any woman.


    ¡­


    Bubbly from their expected achievements, the three handmaidens led Kilian through a dimly lit corridor. As the castle mostly housed bloodkins, who all were equipped with night vision, it didn''t rely much on light. But while this setting might have bothered others, with his enhanced retinas, Kilian didn''t care.


    A dark-gray door with the werebat-shaped skull of a chiropteran marked the corridor''s end. The leading handmaiden pushed against it, making the door open with grating, unsettling creaks.


    "After you, Your Lordship," the three said, and alongside them, Kilian walked into the banquet hall where hellcat-shaped scarlet flames flew across the hall, dancing underneath the grand, blood-flower chandeliers that projected ominous light on the dancing nobles below.


    "Junior Duke, we''ve been awaiting your arrival," Kathrin, Oliver''s wife and future queen, met him at the entrance with one of those smiles that provoked waves of sin.


    14: Forgive My Wickedness


    While Kilian dove into Nargoz''s diurnal festivities, within a plain-looking room of Kars'' ducal palace, a woman in her early thirties kneeled on the ground, with her trembling arms folded while a younger female of remarkable beauty circled her.


    "Obscene old slut. Who could think that while, out of respect, I called you aunt, you were spreading your legs for my fianc¨¦. Tss, tss, tss. I watched out for everyone, everyone except you," Anke leaned over and whispered in the noblewoman, Florens'' mother''s ears. Dressed in a high collar, black velvet dress that stressed the sinister look in her eyes, Anke rested her hand on the lady''s shoulders and shook her head.


    Though the daughter of an Orlothi marquis, as a non-magus, Florens'' mother could only quiver under Anke''s inquisition. No, even if she were one thousand times more powerful, she would still have to behave. The gap in strength and status was simply too vast. And recalling how she ended up in this state, the lady bit her lower lip.


    "What? You got nothing to say? That''s not good. If you don''t argue, I will have to kill you in a slow, horrid manner. If you argue you will still die brutally, but I might just lop your head off in a fit of anger. And then at least, you won''t have to scream," pinching the lady''s cheeks in her snow-white hands, Anke nestled her head against hers, and lay there for a minute.


    Cold sweat broke out from the noblewoman''s forehead and cheeks, reminding Anke of the effect she tended to have on her victims. Her gleeful face twisted into a frown.


    "You''re scared. Why are you scared? You shouldn''t be. When you started sleeping with him, you should have known that this day would happen. Even if you didn''t then, after learning of my temper, a sane person would have stopped. But¡ª" Anke trailed one index on the lady''s neck, cutting a thin line of blood with the seemingly inoffensive move.


    "You''re too shameless. He''s what? Half your age? How could you? HOW DARE YOU!" Seizing the lady by the neck, Anke hoisted her with one hand, and while keeping her locked in her grip, smashed her into the opposite wall.


    Her bones crackled, and she spurted blood, staining Anke''s insanity-laced face with another layer of madness.


    "You...why don''t you blame Kilian...why is it always us? You...always act the gentle and loving lady before him, t-then go out murdering innocents," the lady choked out. But the words only heightened Anke''s wrath, and her grip tightened around her victim''s neck.


    "Wrong, I blame you two. But I forgive him. I always forgive him. Because if I don''t, he will let go of me, forget about me, ignore me, and that, I CAN''T ALLOW!" Pulling the lady off the wall, Anke slammed her into the ground¡ªher spine shattered on the spot.


    "But you, you I can''t forgive! Kilian is mine. MINE! He belongs to me and me only! Why, why do you sluts keep crowding him like bees to honey? Why can''t you just say no!"


    Again, Anke lifted her victim and slammed her back into the ground.


    "I''m the Junior Duchess of Rulweil. Those that want my hand line from the Imperial City all the way to Kars! But for him, I ignore them all. So why can''t he do the same? Why must he trample my pride?" Again and again, Anke battered the helpless woman like a rampaging bull would a helpless matador. But with masterful control of her dra, she protected her victim''s vital organs so that the abuse could go on without interruption.


    "I-it''s not our fault. H-he can never l-love you. Haha, since you are Klaus'' most beloved junior...how could he fancy you? P-pitiful, pitiful lunatic," the lady choked out, eager to end her own sufferings. And as expected, her words tore at Anke''s sorest spot, her eyes went bloodshot, and as her warm tears trickled down, she bent her hand in a claw shape and thrust at the lady''s heart.


    But at that time, an irresistible hand gripped Anke''s wrist, stopping her mid-move.


    "You forgot to ask who gave her the order. That would be me. But even that is inconsequential. Little girl, who let you think that you could kill whom you pleased within my house?" A gentle voice that Anke knew all too well, echoed in her ears.


    But while in usual days Anke would submit to Klaus'' authority, on this occasion, madness prevailed over reason, and she thrashed against his grip¡ªonly to realize that she could barely move a muscle.


    "You...it''s you. It''s always you! You knew...you always knew that this would happen! But since you did, why did you propose the betrothal? Why did you bring me back to Kars? Why couldn''t you let me be?" Anke bit her lips to blood and snarled in grief.


    Seeing the child he raised for half a decade in such anguish, Klaus heaved a sigh.


    "You used to be the perfect choice to test Kilian''s thought process. I wondered how he''d deal with you. Would he forget his hatred for me when it came to you, would he try to use you against me, lash out or just flat out ignore you? And ultimately, I wondered if and how he''d get rid of you. Alas, you went mad before we could reach a conclusion, and the answer no longer matters," Klaus coolly said, and sharper than blades, the words hashed what remained of Anke''s heart.


    "Hahahahaha!" Anke threw her head back and burst into a peal of frenzied laughter. The laugh then turned into the howl of a fehl banshee, tore cracks in the orstalph walls, and made the comatose lady''s eardrums'' burst instantaneously. Aggrieved by this sight, Klaus placed his left hand on Anke''s head.


    "It''s fine, I will make the pain go away, let you rest and forget. When you wake up, you will be born anew¡ªfree from all mortal woes," he said, and starting with her toes, Anke''s body crystallized, and she turned into an inert amethyst statue. The statue shrank into a purple orb, and dove into Klaus'' ring.


    With the fehl howl stopped, silence returned to the room. Klaus stepped toward his wife¡ªfor indeed, the battered noblewoman half-an-inch into death was...his wife¡ªand snapped his fingers.


    Shimmering golden vines surged from the grounds, wrapping the lady in their embrace to heal all her physical wounds.


    "You''ve suffered too. My apologies, I didn''t wish to harm you. May you forgive my wickedness and remember my sins no more," he said, turned heels, and left. The Duchess of Kars didn''t know what to do with the words for, unlike most people in Kars, she''d long realized that behind his poised exterior, Klaus too teetered on the edge of insanity.


    15: Outsmarting Oneself (Part 1)


    Unaware of the waves his snide at Florens unleashed in Kars, Kilian met a toast from Oliver while the members of the Blood Court twirled on the dance floor. Arcane Musicians weaved orchestras through relentless incantation gestures, making the sounds of organs and violins intertwine for the Blood Court''s pleasure.


    But as soul-stirring symphonies pervaded the air, Kilian emptied his wine glass and lowered it so that Kathrin would refill it. In an atypical arrangement, Oliver had Kilian sit between Kathrin and him. With the grand prince at his right and the grand princess at his left, if not for his blue eyes, Kilian could have cheated any foreign dignitary into mistaking him as the King of Nargoz.


    Naturally, this was Oliver''s plan to overload Kilian''s ego, convince him of Nargoz submissiveness, and lower his awareness¡ªKathrin could then exploit him. But seeing the drunken Kilian brazenly flirt with his wife, it would be a lie to say that Oliver didn''t feel incensed.


    "Nargoz''s blood wine does live up to its reputation. This is the strongest beverage I''ve tasted in my miserable life. Not only does it take you to cloud nine, it also strengthens the body, makes your blood flow faster and can keep you awake for hours. What''s your secret?" Kilian asked. But even as the world around him spun, he felt strangely alert and invigorated.


    Sensing his state of ebriety, Oliver beamed and raised another wine cup.


    "Aged bloodkin blood. As you know, though in a lesser measure than the chiropterans, bloodkin blood is like fine wine. It becomes better with age. Less than ten years old and it tastes like iron. Above 50, it tastes like sugar and past 100 you''re drinking a unique variety of grapes. Although there are exceptions, it typically remains in those lines.


    The bottles we''re using on this table are all over 500 years old¡ªthe cream of the crop. Even your father didn''t get to taste this," a tipsy Oliver said, and gulped down another glass. Although the blood''s effect on bloodkins was weaker than humans, it didn''t leave them indifferent. And while she minimized her dozes to keep herself alert, Kathrin too was starting to feel the effects.


    Turning away from Oliver, Kilian leaned toward Kathrin, breaching her personal space, and bringing his face impertinently close to hers.


    "What about you, Your Highness," Kilian asked, hinting at Kathrin''s blood level.


    "Are you asking me my age? That would be rude." Believing that the overly potent liquor unleashed Kilian''s true nature, Kathrin aimed to humor him. But though they''d settled on the plan together, Oliver still failed to digest the exchange.


    "Actually, that was my indirect way of trying to get my wine from the source," Kilian replied, making both Kathrin and Oliver''s eyes stretch. Although as the glasses succeeded one another, Kilian conducted himself with increasing discourtesy, never did any one of them think he''d go that far. Keeping his emotions pinned down, Oliver made eyes at Kathrin, hinting for her to bring the farce to a finale.


    Without a word, Kathrin stood up and extended one hand toward Kilian. As if blind to Oliver''s presence, he followed, and the two rushed out of the banquet hall.


    "Boys will be boys. Kilian, I''ve overestimated you," he scoffed, and summoned quill and paper to draft his new requests. Little did Oliver know that a shadowy figure observed the scene and scoffed at him instead. Meanwhile, Kathrin dragged Kilian into her regal bedchambers, sank her sharpened teeth into her lower lip, and pulled him into a blood-soaked kiss.


    As expected of one of her lineage, though the grand princess stood far from 50, her blood contained an enrapturing, sugary taste that further dulled Kilian''s senses. Unabashed, he wrapped his hands around her waist, savoring the intoxicating blood while her soft cleavage pressed his toned chest.


    For a second, Kathrin forgot her duty, but soon regaining her composure, as her tongue coiled with Kilian, she moved her right hand in arcane gestures. Scarlet mist gathered at Kathrin''s fingertip, and breaking the kiss, she backpedaled before aiming one finger at Kilian.


    "Apologies, nothing personal.


    Third Circle Spell: Blood Lush." Squalls of scarlet petals surged from Kathrin''s right index and hurtled at Kilian. His eyes widened, but even as he recoiled, the petals latched on him and ingrained themselves in his body.


    A spell unique to bloodkins and their chiropteran masters, Blood Lush enabled the caster to turn their intoxicating blood into an irresistible aphrodisiac that''d instantly bring the victim to extreme peaks of arousal. As the spell''s effects kicked in, Kilian''s eyes went bloodshot, and he dropped on his knees.


    "Resistance is futile. Don''t worry, you will enjoy every last bit of it," Kathrin scoffed and clapped, making the three handmaidens that served Kilian open the door and step into her chambers.


    The cloaking spell within the room dissipated, revealing four recording mirrors that awaited Kathrin''s activation.


    "Take good care of the Junior Duke. From now on, he will be your man," she said, and gestured for the ladies to surround Kilian. Though nervous, they did so within a second. Only now did Kathrin snap her fingers and trigger the recording. Like a predatory beast eager to pounce on its prey, Kilian stood up, snarled, but as Kathrin prepared to leave the room, a burst of laughter stopped her legs.


    "Hahaha! Alright, this was okay fun, but it''s time to return to seriousness," Kilian chortled and lifted his head, showing clear eyes unaffected by spell or liquor. Worse, as she spun to face him, Kathrin was startled to see her blood rose petals fly out of Kilian''s skin¡ªa frown took hold.


    "W-what sorcery? How can this be?" She stammered. And when even Kathrin couldn''t maintain her composure, we need not mention the handmaidens who already collapsed on the ground. With a gleeful smile, Kilian walked past them.


    "Oh, I forgot to mention. It''s a well-kept secret, but it just so turns out that magic doesn''t work on me. In fact¡ª" Kilian paused and aimed his right hand at Kathrin.


    "I can just return it all," he added, and the blood roses barreled into Kathrin, breaking past her defenses to corrupt her body. Her pale skin flushed red, and her chest heaved and dropped alongside her ragged breathing as she struggled to restrain the spell¡ªa short lived struggle.


    Unable to contend with her own magic, Katrin tore off the straps of her dress, making it drop on the ground to reveal her bare, pert body to Kilian''s amused gaze.


    "No foreplay, I guess," Kilian sobbed as Kathrin threw herself into his arms, stuck out her tongue, and flicked it across his neck. At the same time, her hands fiddled with Kilian''s clothes, and with the persistence of a lust-crazed devil, she unbuckled Kilian''s belt, and took his pants down.


    Terror-stricken, the handmaidens attempted to scurry away, but Kilian''s voice stopped them all.


    "Where do you think you''re going? You''re witnesses. Witnesses stay, watch, then report. And I must admit that I love an audience," Kilian said with his lips curled into a fiendish grin. Only now did the handmaidens realize that the one on whom they pinned their hopes was, perhaps, the worst of Nargoz''s demons.


    16: Outsmarting Oneself (Final Part, R-18)


    Driven by a surge of feral passion, Kathrin pushed Kilian onto the bed and climbed on top of him, kissing him with the raw passion of a mating succubus while rubbing her slick, moistened cunt on his hardening cock. The long, thick, and hefty rod rose to full length, holding the grand princess'' curvy butt while enjoying the cuddling of her ass cheeks. The friction took Kilian by surprise, and as Kathrin rubbed herself on his juice-soaked meat-slab, he moaned in her lips, and she in his.


    Breaking the kiss, Kathrin stared into Kilian''s eyes with voracious lust and urgent needs, as if every second spent without his cock pumping warm spunk in her snatch was a second spent in hell. Lying down, Kilian gripped Kathrin''s waist and lifted her to aim his cock at her sex-craving entrance. But instead of just impaling the hungering grand princess on his rod, Kilian poked the entrance, stretching her puffy lips with his engorged shaft while denying her the delight of a rough shag.


    "Anh, anh, anh¡­" Kathrin whimpered, protesting against Kilian''s treatment while her D cup breasts swayed ever still. Leaning forward, he pulled one nipple into his mouth, tugging on the soft piece of flesh while still denying Kathrin her prize. The grand princess'' cheeks reddened further. Her body, tits and cunt''s temperature''s shot up while inviting moans left her lips to tease Kilian''s ears and cock.


    And though she only wished to ram herself down the meat-pole, and ride it till her legs gave out, Kilian kept her body under a firm grip.


    "I want...I want¡­" Unable to resist the suckling of her tits and the teasing of her insides, Kathrin started moaning the words swirling in her mind. In a plop, Kilian let go of the lady''s pink nipple, and spread open her ass cheeks.


    "You want what?"


    "Your cock! I want your cock! Give me your cock!" She groaned, more restless and demanding than the great Whore of Babylon, and Kilian rewarded her by pressing on her ass to slam her cunt down his cock. Impaled to the hilt, the grand princess threw her head back and let out a long, loud squeal of delight.


    "Ohhh!" Before such a spectacle, the handmaidens didn''t know where to put themselves, and merely lay there, clenching their thighs in shame. But as expected, in a castle full of emissaries and templars, Kathrin''s unconstrained groans reached disloyal ears. First, it was the maids, then the guards, and even as her tight-fitting, cum-craving cunt adjusted and hugged Kilian''s cock, words of the debauchery reached the banquet hall and poked Oliver''s ears.


    With no care for that, Kilian ran his hands up Kathrin''s waist and down her ass cheeks, electrifying her with his touch as he drove his cock into her with small, slow thrusts. Lowering her lips on Kilian''s, Kathrin gave him a soft kiss, then arched her back to start riding his cock to heaven.


    Holding the back of her head, the lascivous princess moved and rotated her hips so that Kilian''s cock would find and hit all her sweet spots. The sloppy, squelchy sounds of a thick cock plowing a drenched, gripping snatch filled the room. Kathrin''s eyes glazed over, and her paced move gave way to a more frantic dance as she slammed her hips up and down Kilian''s cock.


    "Ahhh...oh yes...ahhh...ahhh!" The grand princess'' arms dropped on either side of Kilian, and with her head now nestled against his, she rode her mate till her juices drenched the velvet sheets, and his cock throbbed uncontrollably between her walls. With a smile, Kilian flipped Kathrin on the bed, mounting her with the scent of rut, and plunged his cock back into her fold.


    Spreading her legs wide open, Kathrin stuck out her tongue for Kilian to suck on, and welcomed the jack-hammering of her lifetime. And as Kilian''s cock pumped and filled the lady''s walls, his balls kissed her butt cheeks, drawing a picture that the handmaidens could no longer take their eyes off.


    Sensing his cock tense with impending release, Kilian accelerated his pace, thrusting in and out the blissful lady''s fold, faster than the average eyes could follow. Her clawed hands sank into his back, and with a loud groan, he unleashed his spunk straight down her hole, and it vacuumed it all.


    ¡­


    Alerted by unsettling whispers, Oliver burst out of the banquet hall and rushed toward Kathrin''s chamber. Their initial plan was simple: obtain footages of Kilian shagging the three handmaidens and threaten to upload it for the whole Arcadia to see. Even if Kilian did not care for his betrothed, even if he already possessed a poor reputation, he couldn''t afford proof of such a scandal.


    The Grand Duke of Rulweil was Arcadia''s number one duke and the only Exarch not surnamed von Skoll. Should his house, granddaughter and heir suffer such a humiliation, honor demanded that he raised his armies against Kars. To say nothing of Kilian, Klaus himself couldn''t endure the result.


    Therefore, Oliver didn''t doubt that the coarse trick would bear wonderful fruits. Alas, as he reached his lady''s chambers, he feared a miscalculation. And when the squelchy sounds of entangling flesh and throaty moans teased his ears, fear became confusion, then rage, and he kicked the door open.


    Barging into the room, Oliver stumbled on the picturesque scene of his wife bent over on her bed, with cum trickling down her thighs, and Kilian hammering her cunt from behind.


    "Hey Oliver. Welcome, we were waiting for you. Well, I was. Not sure she remembers your name," Kilian said, gave Kathrin''s butt a good smack, and released another load in her fold. The move made her ass cheeks and walls spasm, and she fell to her fourth orgasm¡ªthen dropped on the bed.


    "Best thing is, the spell wore off half an hour ago," Kilian added for the dazed Oliver to hear and lay beside Kathrin.


    17: If Time Could Stop


    Sanguine light erupted from Oliver''s form as his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Summoning a blood-red lance, he lunged at Kilian, aiming for his throat. But as the move neared, Kilian raised his hand, summoning a recording mirror where a scene of Kathrin getting fucked senseless replayed. Except that this time, it wasn''t Kilian, but three bloodkin youths Oliver knew all too well.


    The video made Oliver stumble, and he fell face-first.


    "Lies!" He barked, and while still lounging on the bed, Kilian smiled and replied:


    "Not quite. This is me, using my power armor to duplicate myself and shapeshift into the appearances of those three. Not my fault. Your wife wanted a foursome," Kilian sighed, and stood up. Regaining his senses, Oliver realized Kilian''s heinous ploy.


    "One is her brother, another is your maternal cousin, and the last, the son of one of Nargoz''s strongest duke. All three are Junior Dukes whose fathers hold tremendous power in your state. Oliver, even if they screwed your wife, how could you be so reckless as to behead them all and send the heads to their fathers? That''s how you get a civil war." Kilian shook his head, lamenting at Oliver''s lack of tact.


    Alarmed, Oliver eyed Kilian from head to toe and asked, ??I did what? When?" The situation had already spiraled out of control, and in his four decades of life, Oliver had never felt more confused.


    Crouching before the grand prince, Kilian clasped his shoulder and replied: "Don''t you wonder where my guards are? I mean, even if they''re not always by my side, they should have remained nearby. Instead, they''re nowhere to be seen. That''s because they left at dawn to capture the three. As soon as I had the video set up, they beheaded them and sent the heads to their fathers'' mansions.


    I''ve also used an anonymous phira channel to upload the video for Arcadia to see. At this point, who, why and how, no longer matters. Within 48 hours, the three dukes will lead their forces in rebellion and overthrow you," Kilian explained. And unable to take the blow, Oliver clawed at his neck, shaking his head in disbelief.


    "Idiot. Twenty-two years ago, in the Imperial Academy, you tried a similar trick with Klaus¡ªusing your then girlfriend. But instead, Klaus screwed her and screwed you too. That''s how you became such good friends. Knowing the story and my own reputation, how could I not prepare? You really need to learn new moves," Kilian said, unveiling the deepest of Oliver''s secrets. Recalling his university past as Klaus'' boytoy, Oliver bit his lips and shut his eyes close.


    "Now isn''t the time for tears and sighs. You''re a grand prince, not a pornstar. As a royal house, although the dancing members of the Blood Court aren''t yet aware, the Veidt have effectively become the joke of Arcadia''s aristocratic circles.


    That alone isn''t a big issue. But as I recall, the seven Grand Orders make all laws regarding public decency, honor and propriety. With all the laws you''ve violated tonight, even if the rebels don''t kill you, Emperor Niklas will. So Oliver, for the sake of your house''s survival, you only have one option: a complete and absolute surrender to me. You''re dead either way, but at the very least, you can save the Veidt legacy." Awoken by Kilian''s words, Oliver released a bitter sigh and prostrated himself on the ground.


    "Your wish is my command."


    ...


    That day, in the greatest feast of gore of Nargoz''s bloody history, the royal house slaughtered all potential dissidents of the Blood Court while Kilian''s bodyguards brought back the heads of the belligerent dukes.


    That day, after giving Kilian the key to Eleonora''s anti-magic chains, Grand Prince Oliver made a public apology to Nargoz''s citizens and was trampled to death by 1,000 horses to atone for his house''s failings. Kathrin vanished from public eye, becoming an ordinary handmaiden by Eleonora''s side, and the council announced that for the first time in its history, Nargoz would crown a queen.


    Using another blood puppet, Eleonora observed it all from the city''s shadows. But while Oliver''s brutal death comforted her soul, she soon forgot about him.


    Standing on the Chiropteran Tower with Ailith by her side, Eleonora swept the entirety of Nargoz. And only now did Ailith realize that Kilian truly didn''t need her mistress to claim the Tear of Kalarac. Yet, he still brought back the key and released Eleonora of her bounds.


    "Mistress, the covenant has been fulfilled, and although far from the past peak, you''ve regained enough powers to leave this land. What shall we do?" Ailith asked Eleonora whose impassible eyes remained glued on the scenery below.


    Dusk was about to fall, reminding Eleonora of her appointment with Kilian. Now dressed in a vintage-styled green dress, even without crowns, Eleonora possessed all the elegance of an inborn queen. Still, her eyes carried some hesitation.


    "No rush. There is an oppressive fehl presence in this world. Thicker than anything I''ve felt in my long existence. If Fehl Princes and Overlords are heavily invested in this world, we must find out why and thwart their plans," Eleonora replied, but though the words seemed sensible, Ailith couldn''t help but feel that it was all an excuse.


    ¡­


    Having handled all of Nargoz''s petty details, Kilian was ready to claim the Tear. But first, he met Eleonora for their appointment. And as he walked into the room, Kilian was surprised to see the new August Orphan standing in her vannorin form. Spinning, Eleonora faced Kilian in all her fiendish splendor, wearing nothing but a black corset that kept half her breasts exposed.


    A heavy silence reigned in the room, broken only by Eleonora''s hissing, purple snake hair.


    "You''ve gotten what you wanted. Nargoz is yours, with or without me. Once you seize the Tear, if as you claim you can put it to use, you can turn this place into your stronghold.


    Humans disliking monsters is natural; you don''t have to marry me. I can give you a fake wedding as thanks for your assistance and won''t resent you, or stand in your way for rethinking your choice," Eleonora said while her slit, scarlet eyes stared at Kilian.


    Suppressing a chuckle, Kilian ambled toward her, and without warning, took her lips into his. Startled, Eleonora pushed against Kilian''s chest, but he wrapped his hands around her scaly waist and leaned forward. Trapped in Kilian''s embrace, Eleonora gave up resistance, and abandoned her tongue and lips to his gentle caresses.


    The kiss went on for what seemed like a delightful eternity before Kilian broke it to look into Eleonora''s eyes.


    "Monsters exist only in our hearts. The rest is a matter of difference. I''d rather make a trustworthy monstress my queen, than share my bed with a crazed human devil. And while I know that you have your secrets, who doesn''t? I''m not here for a servant. I just want someone I can trust and entrust myself to. What about you, Eleonora? What do you want?" Kilian asked with a gentle, mind-soothing smile. And as she met his clear eyes, Eleonora felt that perhaps, just perhaps, she''d found the one that could break her eternal curse. Selfishness took hold, and the Queen''s lips curled into a radiant smile.


    "Perhaps, that time stopped in this instant," she replied, and again Kilian locked his lips on hers for a sultry embrace.


    18: Returning to Kars


    After ending their embrace, Kilian pulled Eleonora toward Nargoz''s Chamber of Relics where the Tear of Kalarac awaited. Only the blood of Nargoz''s royals could open the gate, so Kilian kept a cup full of Oliver''s blood and poured it on the handle.


    In loud, grating sounds, the door opened wide and the two dove in. Ancient swords, dusty grimoires and blood-red armors with werebat-shaped helmets stood strapped against stone poles, or floating above pedestals. Kilian ignored them all to locate the only thing worth his greed: a sanguine stone shaped like a ruby teardrop that despite the room''s darkness, shone like a blazing sun: the Tear of Kalarac.


    Like a Philosopher''s Stone, the Tear granted its owner outstanding Transmutation abilities, as well as mysterious, eldritch powers able to leave Archons and Exarchs witless. But beyond that, it enabled the owner to create a flawless, upgradable version of their bodies and store it in the tear''s internal world.


    There was only one problem. The Tear devoured more lifeforce than non-Chiropterans possessed. This wasn''t a magic-level, but a species issue. Chiropterans were immortal and possessed endless lifeforce. And as using the Tear of Kalarac required 700 years of lifespan, even at the Exarch-level, humans could only live for 500 years. Naturally, they dared not touch it.


    But while Kilian was no immortal, Klaus'' experiments showed that even without magic, he could live for over 1,000 years. Striding toward the Tear, Kilian clenched his hand around it and yanked it off the pedestal.


    The surrounding scenery changed, and he landed in an unfamiliar world where an endless blood sea covered the sky and earth. Closing his eyes, Kilian stretched his senses throughout the blood world, and as his mind spread to fill the realm, Kilian felt as if in this place, he possessed omnipresence.


    The rush didn''t last over three seconds, and regaining his senses, Kilian integrated his soul with the Tear, channeling the seemingly endless power that briefly gave him the misconception that he''d achieved godhood. In the meantime, the Tear devoured the 700 years of lifespan Kilian owed it¡ªsealing their unwritten covenant.


    Using his mind as a quill, Kilian waved blood mist to condense an inert shape that looked 100% like his. Sanguine flames embroiled the construct, making it solidify and grow from a cloudy figure to an entity of flesh and blood. Exiting the Tear''s world, Kilian turned toward Eleonora, unaware that if anything went wrong, she stood ready to pull him out.


    "Look," He said, and switching her attention back to the Tear, Eleonora was mildly disturbed by the appearance of a mini Kilian corpse in the jewel. Her eyebrows creased, and she spun to face him.


    "Why are you doing this? Your body is exceptional and far from its true limits. The second body is useless unless you reached your limits or fear an impending death¡­" Eleonora''s eyebrows arched up, and her voice trailed off.


    "Exceptional? How do you know? Did you taste it in my sleep?" Kilian jested, making Eleonora''s eyes narrow at him.


    "I''m confused. Tasted what?"


    "Oh my god you''re so innocent. I almost feel bad for you having to marry me," Kilian said and cleared his throat.


    "More seriously, I do fear an impending death. In fact, so long as I remain in Klaus'' grasp, I feel like I can die at any moment. It''s just a matter of time," he pursued, making Eleonora realize that the situation between Kars'' duke and junior duke was nowhere near as peaceful as most imagined.


    "Why don''t you stay with me?" She asked, but Kilian immediately shook his head.


    "With the Tear, I can shroud Nargoz from the empire, but I cannot escape Klaus'' palm¡ªyet. He rigged my body so that he can teleport me back to his side whenever he pleases. In fact, he probably knew that I''d claim the Tear. Perhaps it even delights him.


    Be that as it may, it is not the time. I will leave Nargoz in three days. I don''t know when I will return. Months, years? I can''t say for sure. But when I do, I will teach you the tango and rob your innocence." As Eleonora pondered what "tango" was, Kilian aimed his right hand at her, unleashing waves of scarlet fog that flooded her body, and left a star-shaped mark on her chest.


    "Should the Arcadian Empire attempt another assault, use the Tear to shroud and seal Nargoz. I''m also giving you a license to use it to strengthen my second body and build me an invincible regiment. Should I perish, and for one reason or another not rematerialize here, as long as the mark stands you will know that I am fine. In due time, I will return," Kilian said. But little did he know that very soon, his casually spoken words would become a reality.


    Across the following three days, Kilian only did one thing: learn more about Eleonora. From how Oliver murdered her mother out of fear that she might plot to make her queen, to how she suffered her Fehl Mutation and became the monster girl she now was. Her plans, her hopes, her aspirations, she told him everything. But the longer they spoke, the more Kilian realized that Eleonora wasn''t talking about the princess of Nargoz. Between the lines, she painted the stark picture of a lofty, lonely entity trapped in the chains of her duties.


    At the end of the third day, the royal palace hosted a small wedding between the Junior Duke of Kars and the Grand Princess of Nargoz, after which Eleonora received her crown and Kilian returned to Kars.


    The news that Kars'' Junior Duke broke his betrothal to Rulweil and married the new Queen of Nargoz spread like wildfire. But while many high nobility scions wished to use the opportunity to console Anke, she was nowhere to be seen. The Grand Duke of Rulweil also made no comments.


    ¡­


    After his aircraft landed in Kars, Kilian headed straight toward Klaus'' study where, as usual, the duke awaited.


    "I heard you had a great deal of fun," Klaus said as soon as Kilian passed the door.


    "I even got a wife," Kilian replied and bowed like a vassal to his liege.


    "I asked you to get me trade deals and an alliance. You changed the monarch. Well, I''d say you''ve learned all I had to teach you on secular matters. Tomorrow morning, we will handle your Dra Root Ceremony and start your Arcane training." Klaus said and returned his attention to the book on his table. Although most aristocrats only read spell tomes or grimoires, Klaus was one of the few that still enjoyed a good fiction book.


    "I always wanted to ask. Why did you kill the 8,000 northern tribesmen? I know that you wanted to seize absolute judiciary power in Orloth without civil war, but with your skills, you could have found another way. Why that one?" Kilian finally released the voice caterwauling in the back of his mind.


    "Because of you. I had to kill Viktor, Alina and all members of your tribe to make sure that you''d live in agony, and hate me more than you loathed destiny or your own powerlessness. Since that tribe was already doomed to slaughter, I reckoned that just cleaning the surroundings and using the massacre to spread terror throughout Orloth, was the most pertinent choice," Klaus replied without taking his eyes off his book page.


    "I see," Kilian said, spun and left. But though his face showed no change, the hatred locked inside him never burned brighter. Rage seethed in his heart, pounding like a battering ram against his chest. And perhaps it was in that instant that his fate was sealed.

 5 Embraced by Hell

    Six years thus passed, and at the age of 18, it was now time for Kilian to embark on the road of magic. In body and mind, Klaus believed him ready. Alas, destiny chose to cheat them both, and as Klaus readied to test Kilian''s Dra Roots, the inconceivable occurred.


    The testing of Dra Root was a critical moment of any nobility scion''s life. On the scene, several junior and senior members of house von Karsten stood. But as Klaus stretched his hand toward Kilian, in an unexpected twist, the dra surrounding him started circulating in the opposite direction. As he sensed this, for the first time in decades, Klaus'' eyes widened in disbelief.


    Formless energy crept into Kilian''s body, spreading through his veins, organs, and soul! That energy had neither scent nor signature, only the strange phenomenon of making dra flow in reverse informed Klaus as to what it really was.


    "No...no...noooo!"


    Klaus clenched his fists, smashed them on an adjacent oak table, and snarled in indignation! But the force didn''t listen, it never did. In the middle of Kilian''s forehead, circles of red light emerged, and his body spasmed under violent jolts of foreign energies.


    The red light dispersed, leaving behind a five centimeters long slit. Around the slit, bulging veins spread, Kilian''s pupils vanished, and before the terrified von Karsten kinsmen and women, a third, vertical and crimson eye opened on his forehead!


    "He''s been tainted...tainted by Fehl."


    The nearby relatives realized, and indeed, they were right. The people of this world may not know or fear God, but they knew and dreaded the devil. Its name was Fehl!


    Fehl was a name, a race, an Arcane Discipline, a plane, but most importantly, a taint. Just like Dra was omnipresent, permeating all corners of the world, Fehl existed in all places, in every breath, in water, in the sky, and the earth. All breathed it, but in some, it would one day trigger a reaction: the Fehl Taint.


    Most arcane researchers believed the taint linked to an unidentifiable gene present in some but absent in the many. Others, however, argued Fehl sentient, and that in its perpetual depravity, it chose its victims. Regardless of the truth, those tainted by Fehl would instantly develop a mutation, becoming Fehl Mutants.


    If there was one thing the world didn''t tolerate, it was the Fehl Taint. Though made superior to their peers, Fehl Mutants typically started out harmless. But once exposed to Fehl Magic, the taint would gradually worsen until they finally morphed into Fehl Beasts¡ªcreatures of pure madness driven solely by hedonism and destruction.


    Who could tolerate them?


    That added to the fact that mutants and beasts aside, only Fehl Daemons could use that horribly powerful magic, regardless of race or affiliations, all hunted the Fehl-tainted. For those unable to conceal their mutations, dark forests and secluded cults were their sole options. How could such a man remain the heir of the von Karsten?


    Kilian''s existence had suddenly turned into a time ticking bomb threatening to wipe out this ancient house! And as he regained his consciousness, as he swept his "kinsmen" and read in their faces the reality of his situation, Kilian couldn''t restrain a chuckle. Even as Klaus boiled with fury, Kilian chuckled.


    "Hahaha," amused; he was utterly amused. The situation was far too entertaining. It was as if fate spat in all their faces, Klaus'' more than his. For six years, Klaus dedicated himself to teaching Kilian all he knew and making him the perfect successor of his house. But now, he had no other choice but to destroy him. How amusing indeed. How frustrating indeed.


    Kilian now knew he would get no chance of revenge, no opportunity to appease the souls of the dead, souls that still kept him awake at night. He would die within six hours, maybe less. Again, death readied to embrace him, and this time, he didn''t believe another miracle would occur. The second chance...wasn''t enough.


    How frustrating, how infuriating! But regardless of how wronged he felt, Kilian couldn''t control destiny. Klaus too couldn''t, so he waved for his kin to depart and locked himself in his study. The kinsmen promptly left, knowing that in the following hours, a blaze was inevitable.


    For a whole hour, Klaus wept tears of rage and bitterness, cursing Fehl for playing him so. But at the start of the second, he stood up and walked out of the door. His red, moistened eyes faced Kilian with a contrasting, stony gaze.


    "Kilian, I''m sorry," Klaus stated, even as his tears trickled down.


    "Don''t be; I wouldn''t be," Kilian replied in a matching tone. Hearing this, Klaus curled his lips into a smile and stepped out. Kilian closed his eyes. There was only one way to execute the Fehl-tainted, formulated by the Grand Orders, and upheld by the Arcadian Dynasty: The Baptism of Fire.


    Klaus returned half-an-hour afterward, personally binding and leading Kilian toward the execution ground. In the middle of Kars, the stake awaited with rabble gathering and nobles observing from a distance. Klaus could have taken care of this privately. But bolder than the average noble, he planned to use the event to increase his prestige, by openly putting justice above family ties, thereby milking Kilian for one last time.


    Before the common rabble and nobles, Klaus tied Kilian on the wooden stake, then turned to face the populace, speaking eight words the nobles would firmly engrave in their minds.


    "Even my son is not above the law!" Amplified by a minor sound spell, the words thundered throughout the execution grounds, gripping the thousands of gathering commoners.


    And with that one declaration, Klaus snapped his fingers, instantly setting the stake ablaze. This was no ordinary flame. The "baptism" required the tainted to burn for three hours, not one more, not one less. And so Kilian watched the flames rise from the bottom of the stake to embroil his legs and make a slow rise toward his head.


    It hurt.


    It hurt like hell.


    Hurt so much that his mind snapped, that his howls died in his throat, becoming frenzied laughs that alongside his third, crimson eye, gave him the look of a maniacal devil. Spurred on, the rabble tossed stones at Kilian''s burning frame, but when compared to the flames searing his flesh, how could they matter?


    The guards promptly contained the rabble''s rage, returning order to the Baptism of Fire and ensuring nothing would derail the burning. Kilian couldn''t close his eyes, they swept the gathered individuals, going from one face to another until they locked back on Klaus''. There, he stopped. At some point, it seemed the pain reached such a threshold that Kilian''s brain forced him into analgesia, allowing him to spend the final minutes of the "baptism" without agony.


    Klaus faced him all along, not missing an instant of the three hours long burning.


    "I do not want to die," Kilian whispered as the fire covered his chest. On the scene, only Klaus could hear the words.


    "I will not die. Even if I must claw my way out of the pits of hell, I will return, and drag you into a cage of eternal damnation." It was a statement, a promise, a pledge, Klaus welcomed it with a faint smile.


    "I will be waiting," he accepted the improbable challenge.


    Red light flickered within Kilian''s crimson eye. The third hour ended, bringing alongside it a dazzling conflagration that burned what remained of Kilian into ashes. Thus, for the second time, Kilian perished.

 6 The Price of Salvation

    "Death is such a cunt."


    This was Kilian''s primary thought as his soul drifted across various planes, unable to find its way back into the reincarnation circle. Little did he know that the flames used in his execution should have not merely destroyed his body, but also burned his soul into nothingness. However, there it was, floating through the various realms of existence.


    On that trip, Kilian crossed the Dream Plane, witnessing its Lotus Children in their endless torpor, the Nightmare Plane with its rampaging druden, the Sura Plane with its riveting, fluttering suras, and so much more. But the glowing crimson eye didn''t stop, leading him across all those planes to land in that one realm all mortals dreaded.


    In that new plane, the sky was a gleaming red, the air carried the scent of vervain, and magnificent crystal edifices and constructs stretched as far as the eyes could see. Kilian observed it all from above, thinking that if this was the afterlife, death couldn''t be that gruesome. Summoned by an otherworldly force, Kilian''s ethereal body turned into a crimson ray of light, shafting through the air to land in what looked like a royal court.


    And what court it was. Never in his two lives had Kilian seen or heard of anything of the sort. Bare daemonic creatures of infernal beauty writhed in a dance of enrapturing appeal. Some donned pairs of horns, others, striking wings, multiple pairs of eyes, tails, and so much more. The hues of their skins varied, their shapes never the same, yet all gripped Kilian''s soul with their very presence -- as if desire incarnate surrounded him from all sides.


    Ahead, red crystal stairs led the way to a towering throne on which a female creature of empyrean splendor stood. As naked as the rest, her assets stood in full view. But if the cantaloupe-sized breasts, dark-purple skin, wide hips, and willow waist should have gripped attention, the creature''s eyes made all the rest irrelevant, preventing even the most depraved of lechers from drooling in her presence.


    The woman beckoned, lifting Kilian with the same irresistible force that pulled him into this court. It didn''t take a genius to realize that he owed his presence in this place to this spellbinding creature. Driven by the telekinetic force, Kilian crossed the dancing court, bypassed the crystal stairs, and landed right before the fehl daemoness. For indeed, if not for a fehl daemoness, what else could she be?


    Her gaze ignored him, focusing on the third, crimson eyes on his forehead, and her full lips curved into an enchanting smile.


    "Interesting, very interesting. In the mortal plane''s history, I believe it is the first time a fehl-tainted human develops the Eye of Fehl. Boy, congratulations," The fehl daemoness stated in the most mellifluous tone Kilian had ever come across.


    With her smile unchanged, she stood up, letting her back-length, ink-like hair drape over her breasts and perky rear. But now that she left her throne, Kilian could witness the full measure of the woman''s height. Almost 2.1 meters tall, as he knelt before her thighs, she dwarfed him entirely.


    "To answer your first question, your impending death triggered the Eye''s activation, and in a bid of self-preservation, it created a spatial distortion to take your soul into the Fehl Plane. Because you landed in my domain, I immediately sensed your presence and took you here," The daemoness began as she stretched her clawed hand toward Kilian''s chin. Surprisingly, even in his ethereal form, she could effortlessly lift his chin.


    "As for the second question - what do I want from you - it''s actually quite simple. The Eye is the greatest treasure of the fehl race, the closest mutation to the Origin. Right now, your death allowed you to unlock its first ability: Dimensional Rift.


    In the future, it will give you so much more. I want you to unlock its full potential, then give your soul to me. Are you willing?" The fehl daemoness directly asked. Throughout all planes of existence, fehls, and non-fehls alike, those willing to unconditionally surrender their soul to her counted in the billions.


    Alas, Kilian wasn''t one to make a petty bargain for luscious breasts and a pretty face.


    "Trading my soul isn''t out of the question. You just need to give me enough reasons," Kilian candidly replied. A dead prisoner had no use for his soul. In a flash, he''d made a full assessment of his current predicament¡ªa powerless soul within the yoke of an unfathomable existence. If she didn''t want him to leave, he couldn''t. And even if she did let him go, no road back awaited him.


    His Dimensional Rift ability currently stood in an unstable state. With just a soul supporting the Eye, he couldn''t go anywhere. At best, he would become the meal of some gluttonous fehl creature. At worst, an eternity of slavery awaited him. This was reality.


    But he couldn''t just vanish. He couldn''t aimlessly drift. The beast of vengeance still grumbled within his bowels, eager to feast on Klaus von Karsten''s skull. But beyond that, he now had a goal, a reason to thrive and grow: To take the reins!


    Even without using her mind-reading powers, the fehl daemoness could see all that played within Kilian''s mind.


    "What, you think you''re in any position to bargain with me?" The fehl daemoness asked as the glint of interest flashed in her purple hues. Her face leaned down, approaching Kilian''s. But while others would have fallen into internal chaos due to her scent alone, he stood still, undisturbed.


    "Reality is quite the damning bitch. Fehls may be beings of tremendous powers, but there is one thing you cannot do: strip¡ªpun intended." Kilian began while his cold blue eyes still faced the daemoness'' purple hues.


    "If you want something from me, something immaterial such as my soul, you must trade it in a contract. Torture will not work, compulsion magic harms the soul at a fundamental level, the greater the target''s rejection, the greater the damage, making it pointless in this particular case. To avoid ruining the Eye, you must bargain.


    Since we''re both adults, let''s not beat around the bush. Make a fair offer, and by the time I''m done with the mortal plane, my soul is yours." Kilian stated. This was nothing more than the age-old covenant. What would happen in the future was of little consequence if he couldn''t open a road into it.


    This daemoness was the door, his only ticket back into the mortal plane. Her smile grew brighter still.


    "Gutsy, just how I like them. Very well, I can give you four gifts." As her words trailed, the fehl daemoness tapped Kilian''s temple, making a palm-sized bronze hammer emerge from it. The same hammer that first took his soul into reincarnation. "First, I will activate this. Having chanced upon a relic of Arkhan, your luck is indeed quite rotten. This little thing can help you accomplish wonders, but beware. Don''t let it ruin you before I get my due." She pursued, clenching her fist around the hammer.


    Red light surged from her fist, and when she opened it again, the bronze hammer had turned platinum.


    "Second, an Innate Ability unique to fehls and another race: Fleshcrafting. Don''t underestimate it. Although some magi appear able to display a few minor tricks of this discipline, they can''t harness its true power. Through it, you can redefine life and death.


    Third, a top-notch body, at least on human standards. Though gifted, your previous one would have allowed you to become a top-level Archon at best. Going beyond was unlikely. Now, the sky will be the limit. I will also add a unique gift for you to enjoy.


    Fourth, my daughter. She will advise and assist you, but though outstanding, she''s rather willful, so I can''t promise she''ll solve all your problems. How much you can get from her depends on you. My name is Ashera; if you agree to those terms, we can seal the pact."


    Unclenching her fist, Ashera released the platinum hammer, making it float before Kilian. But he didn''t doubt that if she could activate it, she could also deactivate it. In silence, he stood up and gave an approving nod. Having devoured all the knowledge of house von Karsten, Kilian knew a lot more than the average high-ranking noble.


    First, there was a limit to the boons his soul could endure. Contracts with fehls often ended with the contractor''s madness or destruction, not because of foul play, but due to them biting off more than they could chew.


    Second, Fleshcrafting might be a joke discipline among human magi, but in those two other races'' hands, it became a sublimely dreadful tool. If he could harness its powers, the road to revenge would undoubtedly become smoother. The rest also carried remarkable appeal. As for the daughter, he still had to determine her worth; however, having a fehl daemoness as an assistant could only make the nights sweeter.


    "I have no blood to seal the pact, though," Kilian half-jested, making Ashera shake her head in disapproval. "Those are barbaric practices, what need do I have for your blood?" Ashera countered and, without warning, seized Kilian''s cheeks to pull him into an ardent kiss.


    As her lips met his and her tongue snuck into his ethereal mouth, their minds melded, and the pact''s terms unfolded within Kilian''s mind. Though first startled, Kilian soon recomposed himself, meeting back Ashera''s kiss and thereby agreeing to the terms. Thus, in that languorous embrace, they sealed the contract.


    Their lips parted, the platinum hammer flew back into Kilian''s soul, and he vanished in swirling red winds.


    "Kilian, I expect great things from you," Ashera whispered, before sitting back in her throne. Her eyes fell back onto the hedonistic party that - throughout the exchange - had never stopped.

 7 Fell Rebirth

    Lukas'' life was a tedious one. Born in the slums of Ostria, capital of the eponymous viscounty, from the age of seven he toiled to feed his mother and little sister. The Kingdom of Orloth split commoners into four classes. From lowest to highest: peasants, artisans, merchants, and managers.


    Peasants were those that farmed the land¡ªland they didn''t own¡ªor hunted on grounds they still had no right to. At the end of the year, they all had to make an inventory of their gains and pay two taxes, 35% to their lord-master, and another 35% to the state, leaving them 30% to consume. Needless to say, their life was an arduous one. If not for Dra lessening food requirements, the majority would starve.


    Artisans and merchants faced lower income tax levels, 32 for artisans, and 30 for merchants. But because only nobles could own land, they still had a "lord-master" to pay taxes to.


    Above were the managers who, as the name implied, administered large businesses and industries for the aristocrats owning them. Because of their unique status, they only had 25% state taxes to care about, enabling them to accumulate wealth across generations, and slowly set themselves apart from the rest of the commoners. Yet, commoners they still were.


    Those were the four registered categories. But below them all, a fifth existed: the iniquitous.


    The iniquitous were the bottom of the food chain, those with no registered or dignified source of income. Beggars, thieves, cripples, slaves, prostitutes all belonged to this rank. Lukas'' family had been managers for generations. Although their wealth couldn''t compare to their noble masters, they still made a good living.


    Unfortunately, his father was a gambling-addicted drunk that sank them all into ruin. Having no other choice, Lukas learned to pickpocket, surviving on petty larceny. Thievery was punished by denailing on the first offense, fingers slicing on the second one, and hand cutting on the third...if a third there was.


    Hence, law forced thieves to become highly skilled. Lukas survived the craft with just one instance of denailing. But as in many other cases, thief income soon proved unable to sustain the house, leading him into seeking the help of disreputable felons. One thing led to another, and at 12, Lukas ended up the new recruit of an assassin cult: the Desolate Knife Cult.


    Across four years, he trained in their killing arts, revealing impressive magical talents he kept concealed from his loved ones. A Lesser Emissary at 16, he started taking assassination tasks, and two years later, was one of the best of his promotion.


    Becoming a Lesser Emissary was no mean feat and ensured he could immediately receive a nobility title. But to say nothing of the cult''s retaliation, commoners were not allowed to grow as magi. If they ever revealed magical talents, the government would give them two choices:


    1) Forsake their relatives for arcane training.


    2) Die!


    Naturally, most chose the former.


    Little did Lukas expect that his rotten luck would turn even worse. Against all logic, he received the task to slay the viscount''s only son!


    It was a trap. The task ended horribly, with six Lesser Templars lying in ambush. The average Lesser Templar might not be a match for a Lesser Emissary, but the gap was marginal. After all, Lesser Emissaries were quite limited in spell-casting and incantation speed.


    Still, Lukas managed to escape the ambush and return with his life¡ªa terrible move. The cult blamed the failure on his incompetence, disemboweled him on the spot, and offered him in sacrifice to summon a Fehl Daemon!


    Aggrieved!


    He felt so aggrieved!


    But as the sacrificial fire burned him to ashes, he knew grievances alone wouldn''t change his fate. His final thoughts went to his sister and mother, who¡ªat best¡ªwould starve in his absence.


    What a lousy life.


    Lukas'' flesh burned to ashes, leaving behind an unblemished skeleton around which Dark Magic swirled.


    Unlike what many believed, Dark Magic had nothing to do with Fehl Magic. It was a self-destructive art that thrived on madness and negativity. Rage, sorrow, hatred, sacrifice, insanity, those were the types of forces that powered Dark Magic. Thus, though quite potent, it held virtually no appeal to those high-ranking nobles.


    Naturally, the government heavily regulated it. This didn''t stop occultists and all manners of warlocks from practising it in the shadows. For non-fehl magi, Dark Magic Rituals were the only ways to summon Fehl Daemons.


    Lukas aside, the barbecued skeletons of 65 other teenagers lay in the room, resting on burning stone altars of nefarious magic, and filling the scene with a horrid, repulsive stench. All fehls had one thing in common¡ªtheir favorite number¡ªsix.


    Six, 66, 666, in any fehl related ritual, the sacrificial offering must ring six. That was the rule. But those people didn''t understand. Even as they kneeled toward Lukas'' skeleton, the primary offering of the event, even as they rattled off occult chants, raised their arms in a pious display and kowtowed with zeal, they didn''t understand.


    The fehl didn''t care for slaughter, didn''t care for destruction; their first and primary pursuit had always been pleasure. The source and means to get it differed from daemon to daemon, but ultimately, pleasure was their sole drive.


    There was no pleasure in this scene. Unless directly connected to a Fehl Daemon that reveled in massacres, the ritual should have failed. Those low-level magi didn''t have the means to find the name of such a creature.


    The ritual should have failed...yet, it didn''t.


    As the abominable chants and incantations unfurled, the flames surrounding Lukas'' skeleton burned brighter, changed hues, and from the previous orange, became a crimson red.


    Awed by the change, and believing their ritual nearing an unprecedented success, the power-hungry dark magi reiterated their chants with ardent vigor! Elation filled their chests, crimson smoke permeated the underground ritual chamber, and winds of fehl energies gathered around Lukas'' skeleton!


    Flames, smoke, winds, all forces united in a single blast that sent the seven chanting magi spiraling in the air! All crashed against the adjacent walls.


    Meanwhile, a miracle occurred. As strands of red light surrounded it, Lukas'' destroyed flesh reformed around his skeleton, remolding into a flawless human shape! Better, his already handsome frame grew more refined, with a masterfully carved face and back-length dreadlocks of a lustrous black.


    The rebuilt man''s eyes opened, revealing cold, hazel eyes that, alongside his curving lips, gave him a rather chilling look. Kilian shifted into a sitting position, adjusting on the altar to sweep the seven dark magi that now crawled toward him.


    "Oh, fehl master, your servants greet you!" The seven magi, all dressed in black-robed and matching cloaks, exclaimed as they kowtowed toward Kilian. His smile broadened, but a jolt of electricity shook his new body, making him close his eyes.


    The surrounding scenery changed, and he now stood before the collapsing soul of the dead Lukas.


    "Do you have a request? As long as it''s reasonable, I shall fulfill it," Kilian directly asked. Having digested the memories of Lukas, he saw many similarities in their experiences. Perhaps that plus their matching age was the reason why Ashera chose his remains as the receptacle for Kilian''s rebirth.


    "Three things. Kill my father, save my sister, bury my mother," Lukas asked with a polite bow, knowing precisely how his three days of absence would ruin his house. But hearing this, Kilian arched an eyebrow. "You don''t want me to kill them?" The question seemed laced with a surge of curiosity.


    Lukas straightened his back, stared right into Kilian''s eyes and replied:


    "I have a feeling that I don''t need to."


    The words pulled an approving nod from Kilian, and his smile grew brighter still.


    "Very well. The request is...reasonable." Satisfied, Lukas'' soul dispersed, and Kilian''s consciousness returned to the ritual hall. Undisturbed by his current nakedness, he stood up, stepping away from the altar to stride toward the kneeling magi.


    Six were Lesser Emissaries, with the leader being a low-level Core Emissary. Without magic or worthy adversaries to protect it, a Core Emissary''s all-out attack was enough to raze a town. Yet, as Kilian''s eyes lay on the leader, the glint of interest didn''t even flash.


    "Mhm...is it a lullaby I hear ringing in the air?" Kilian wondered, making the seven magi raise their eyes in confusion. But by the time they registered the meaning of his words, his nails turned into razor-sharp claws, his right hand slashed the air, a tearing sound echoed, and six of the magi turned into minced meat.


    The Core Emissary didn''t survive the blow.


    Kilian''s eyes dropped on the only remaining magus, a dazed middle-aged man with scarce magical powers. With a step, he landed before him.


    "I need your clothes," Kilian stated, motioning for the magus to disrobe. Awoken to the reality of his situation, the man smacked his forehead on the ground in a succession of kowtows!


    "Your lordship, please spare me! We''re only devoted servants eager to bask in your glory! If we offended you in any way, please forg-"


    *Slash*


    Another tearing sound echoed, and before the man could finish his words, Kilian''s claws gashed his throat, inflicting a fatal wound in one blow.


    "What a mess, you rude little pig," Kilian remarked, robbed the man of all useful items, and as he gurgled on his gushing blood Kilian donned his robe and walked out.

 8 Hellforge System

    The air never tasted sweeter. As he stepped out of the underground hall, crossing the steps to return to the surface, Kilian never felt lighter. It was as if dopamine surged within his brain, pulling him into a high of unprecedented proportions. In his first two lives, Kilian didn''t smile often. But now, he couldn''t restrain the broad grin stretching his lips.


    Better, his senses stretched far and wide, several times more alert and efficient than in his previous life. As soon as he landed on the surface, Kilian stomped his foot, leaping across several meters to land on top of a broken house. In the slums of Ostria, broken one-story houses were the norm. Kilian didn''t care for those details, stretching out his hands to bask in the air''s sweetness, in the sweetness of dra!


    With his extensive knowledge, Kilian promptly determined the source of that rush: delight. As a fehl mutant, although the threshold couldn''t compare to that of daemons, Kilian undoubtedly thrived on delight. With his heightened senses, acts that provided him with pleasure would induce a potent rush of glee¡ªspreading throughout his entire body.


    Better, because in terms of constitution and sensory abilities, his new body was comparable to that of a low-level Fehl Daemon, the high stood leagues above what the average mutant could experience¡ªa distracting condition.


    Taking back control of his senses, Kilian quieted the high, and briefly assessed his body. It was too strong, much stronger than he''d expected, and already comparable to a High Templar such as Wilfried von Kressner''s. Worse, hidden within his Dra Roots was a formidable quantity of Innate Dra that left his previous body''s to shame.


    If Kilian was willing to remain mediocre, with this strength alone, he could establish a solid foothold within the Kingdom of Orloth, becoming a top general or a high-ranking noble. Of course, this was far from enough.


    But most intriguing of all was the moon-shaped sigil on his chest. Around the crimson moon, a clawed serpent coiled, gleaming with powers only Kilian could sense. Visible mutations aside, fehl left no trace. Therefore, only mutants and beasts suffered the hunt of Arcadia''s elites. True daemons never had to worry about those.


    Kilian was no daemon, but within that sigil, he could feel one thrashing!


    "The witch really doesn''t do things half-assed. She even sealed a Fehl Daemon in the sigil. Talk about nuisances, what a gift indeed." Kilian shook his head. This daemon was undoubtedly the limit of what Kilian''s body could bear, concealing outrageous quantities of dra and fehl might. To say nothing of calling upon its strength, suppressing it alone would hasten the fehl corruption.


    At the end of the day, Kilian was still human. Regardless of how outstanding his body was, unless he rose to daemonhood, fehl powers and magic would slowly corrupt his mind, driving him into a state of perpetual, frenzied hedonism. Worse, the sigil seemed to have another effect on his loins¡ªsomething he couldn''t quite name yet.


    At least he could now freely use and conceal his third eye. Closing his eyes, Kilian retreated into his soul where the platinum hammer awaited. Within, another world opened to his eyes, a platinum laboratory with mind-blowing tubes, engines, and computer-like devices awaiting his activation.


    As soon as Kilian landed within, a robotic voice echoed in his mind.


    "Welcome, master, to the Hellforge," as expected of a robot, the voice carried not the tiniest bit of emotion. "Knowledge is the root of power, and research its conductor. The Hellforge''s purpose is to harness the knowledge of myriad worlds.


    Here, knowledge is also the currency. Through it, the new master can use the system to exchange for a great many deal of things, and even invent his own creations," the system began, explaining the Hellforge''s functionalities. Meanwhile, Kilian wandered within the laboratory, appraising all it held.


    In the main system, he saw a great many deal of blueprints, but actually exchangeable items were few and far between.


    "Although you can use your knowledge points to directly obtain parts, the key features are locked behind blueprints. You can exchange for the blueprints only, and then have to forge the item on your own." The system explained before making a blue screen appear before Kilian.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Human Fehl Mutant]


    [Age: 18]


    [Magus Rank: None]


    [Battle Prowess: low-level High Templar]


    [Dra Reserves: 5,000]


    [Knowledge Points: 165]


    [Implants: 0]


    ---


    That his accumulated knowledge was evaluated at 165 told Kilian nothing of his current standing, so he shifted his attention to the blueprint costs. The blueprints were divided into four categories: miscellaneous items, nanochips, weapons, and armors.


    Nanochip and miscellaneous item blueprints had three levels, while weapons and armors had seven.


    ---


    [Ability Deconstruction Chip: 102 k.p.]


    [Transmission Chip: 55 k.p.]


    [Eidetic Memory Chip: 85 k.p.]


    [A.I. Chip: 250 k.p.]


    [Interlaced Chip Structure: 355 k.p.]


    [Anaerobic Breathing Chip: 95 k.p.]


    [Radiation Control Chip: 300 k.p.]


    [Cyberkinesis Chip: 500 k.p.]


    [...]


    ---


    Those were all Lv. 1 prices, not even accounting for the parts'' cost. Kilian didn''t even bother lingering on the weapon and armor blueprints. The price of Lv. 1 battleships or aircraft wasn''t a blow he wanted to deal with at the moment. Instead, he shifted his focus on the ways to obtain knowledge.


    "You can bring live test subjects and offer them in sacrifice to the Experience Refiner, the Refiner will digest their knowledge, and either leave them in a vegetative state or erase them, depending on your choice. How much you gain naturally depends on their accumulated knowledge.


    Therefore, magi are your best option. The higher their rank, the more arcane knowledge they possess. Reading new books and making new discoveries by yourself are also viable paths, but will naturally take longer. Also, 30% of the knowledge possessed by those you kill automatically joins the count." The system explained. Among the miscellaneous items were three books that instantly gripped Kilian''s attention:


    The Compendium of Technology, a Lv. 1 book gathering knowledge on various technologies, as well as all the available parts in the system and how they functioned. It also discussed the fundamentals of Technomancy.


    The Compendium of Species, a Lv. 2 book with boundless knowledge on the various races across Arcadia and beyond.


    The Compendium of Spellcrafting, a Lv. 3 book that, as the name implied, discussed all the profound principles of magical theory and spellcrafting. It also went deeper into Technomancy.


    All three were free, but to read one, Kilian would have to finish the preceding one. And it wasn''t merely a matter of time.


    Those were no ordinary books; the principles discussed therein would put his mind to a constant test. But as long as he could master them, he would not only gain a substantial quantity of knowledge points but also bring his foundation to a brand-new height.


    Without hesitation, Kilian selected the Compendium of Technology, pulling it from the shelf to start browsing its content.


    "At least two months," Kilian hypothesized the required time to finish the first book, put it back on its shelf, and stepped out of the system.


    His hazel eyes swept the slum, peering through the dark of night to locate the next target of his claws: Lukas'' father.

 9 Raging Against the Dying of the Ligh

    Oskar Stenzel was a man of no virtue. In his youth, many dubbed him as an outstanding manager whose skills would bring his family to new heights...as far as commoners were concerned, of course. He found himself a gentle wife, pupped her with two lovely children, and replaced his father as the head manager of a metallurgic industry following his demise.


    Alas, he contracted two diseases whose combination ruined all men under the vast blue sky: alcoholism and compulsive gambling. In less than three months, he lost all family assets, accrued a debt of 50 qraftas, and drove his family into the slums to escape organ removal.


    Soon, he went from a loving father and stately gentlemen to an abusive freak soothing his sorrow in the beating of his wife.


    Like everywhere else in the world, currency in Orloth was split into two: coins and banknotes. Bronze, silver and gold coins on the one hand, and qrafta on the other hand. But because one qrafta was worth one gold coin, it wasn''t that accessible to commoners.


    At first, Oskar considered coining himself out of his debts, tricking his creditors with fake coins. Alas, to say nothing of the metal supplies being monopolized by the aristocracy, even if he had the gold at hand, all state-produced coins and banknotes possessed an invisible, magical code engraved within. A simple check at any reputable institution would expose the fake. Using the slums to evade pursuit, Oskar managed to stay hidden for more than a decade, surviving on his wife''s work and the coin earned by his son.


    A pity that it wasn''t enough. He needed a quick way back to wealth, and like all the unscrupulous, desperate iniquitous, could only rely on one thing: Organ Trading.


    His relatives'', of course. Lukas'' presence prevented him from acting on the thought. But after three days of the brat''s absence, Oskar received an irresistible offer from a mysterious slaver.


    He sold his daughter, Tamara, to the slaver for 500 silver coins, and smashed his wailing wife''s head open with a brick, ready to sell her organs to his other contact. Typically, only the nobility traded in gold coins or qrafta. Commoners settled for bronze and silver.


    One gold coin was worth 100 silver coins, and one silver coin, 100 bronze coins. Five silver coins were enough to feed an average artisan family for a year. Oskar truly couldn''t comprehend why his daughter was worth that much. Not that it mattered.


    But as he counted his silver coins, stroking his unkempt beard with greed-glazed eyes, Oskar didn''t expect a knocking sound to come from his door, stopping him mid count. His eyes contorted into a frown.


    "It''s 3 a.m. I don''t have friends. No one knocks on a stranger''s door at 3 a.m. without ill intent. Can''t be the brat, slum houses don''t have locks, and even if they did, he would have the key. Why knock?" Oskar reasoned. His hazel eyes shifted toward his wife''s cold corpse that still lay right beside the wooden table.


    Undoubtedly, trouble lay beyond that door. First, he pocketed his coin, moved toward the adjacent kitchen space, pulled out a scraped kitchen knife from a drawer, grabbed his brick in his left hand, and moved toward the door as silently as he could. For commoners, Ostria was a shithole run by a despotic viscount, the slums even worse.


    Four gangs ran the area, one less scrupulous than the other. Oskar firmly believed that this was one of those "invitations to organ donation" that emptied houses overnight. He didn''t plan to slay the invaders. As long as he could use surprise to open a road to escape, that was enough.


    Back against the wall, Oskar made no move, awaiting the intruder''s entrance. In loud wincing sounds, the door opened, revealing a cloaked figure that directly walked in. Without hesitation, Oskar struck!


    A decade in this hellhole had taught him a lot on survival, the kitchen knife he swung at the invader''s neck, while the brick he kept ready for a follow-up!


    The knife met thin air, Oskar tripped, but before he could land on the ground, two white pairs of hands grabbed his shoulders, stabilizing him mid-air. Oskar''s eyes went wide with fright.


    "T...templar?" He instantly realized. Templars aside, who could move at such speed? When did he collide with such an existence?


    "Dad, after three days of absence, I didn''t expect the first thing you''d do would be to aim at my neck. How sorrowful." Kilian stated in a deadpan tone. Hearing this, Oskar regained his wits. He''d long expected that resourceful son of his to secretly be a templar trained by some secret cult. Therefore, hearing Lukas'' voice, he inwardly quieted down.


    With a spin, Oskar turned to face Kilian, and pulled off his hood, revealing a face that, in the dimly lit room, he didn''t find that troubling.


    "Lukas, it''s you? It''s really you! Across all those days, where the hell have you been? Do you know what happened in your absence? Your sister...your poor mother...aaaaah!" Oskar broke into tears and dropped on his knees, clutching at his face while letting the stench of blood direct Kilian to the corpse of Lukas'' mother.


    "M-my wife! My wife! Why weren''t you there to protect her?! To protect them! N-now...they''re gone! Gone!" Oskar''s voice cracked, rejecting the fault of his incompetence onto others was quite typical of him. Therefore, those that barely knew the crook might have been tricked into believing this oscar performance.


    Even Lukas would have been destabilized. Oskar counted on that. As long as Lukas floundered on his mother''s corpse, he would sink the knife into his back! Alas, it was Kilian that now stood before him.


    With four nimble steps, Kilian landed before the woman''s carcass. For someone that spent a decade between an abusive husband and the anguish of Ostria''s slums, she was quite beautiful. But even in her lifeless eyes, the weakness of her life remained.


    "You killed yourself by being harebrained, and your son killed you by being indecisive," Kilian whispered. At that time, Oskar had already stepped closer toward him, keeping his knife at arm''s length.


    But as he awaited Kilian''s filial moment, the boy spun, hoisted him into the air by the collar, and flashed him a gentle smile.


    "Lukas asks me to give you one message," Kilian began, morphed his right hand into a claw, and plunged it into Oskar''s chest, forcing his heart out of his back. For a short time, the heart still beat. Oskar, however, didn''t have the same luck. His eyes remained wide open, and his lips stopped in an "O" shape.


    Until death, he couldn''t understand the root of this sudden change.


    "Do not go gentle into that good night." Kilian''s words echoed in the ramshackle house. The thought of drawing on Oskar''s knowledge never once crossed his mind. Even the average Lesser Emissary was only worth 20 k.p. For this level of goods, there wasn''t much difference between 30% and 100%. As for Lukas'' sister, from Oskar''s previous words, Lukas'' request, and the clanging silver coins in the man''s pockets, Kilian could already guess her fate.


    She''d been sold to a slave trader.


    Women taken from the slums typically had to go through all rounds of inspections, beautification, and "sanitization" before getting sold. Therefore, the slaver would first return to his headquarters.


    There was no official slave agency within Ostria. With slavery being so mainstream and regulated, unless trading in noble slaves, no need for underground deals existed. The slaver was long gone, and Oskar, who spent the last decade in the slums, couldn''t retrace him.


    Dropping Oskar''s heart, Killian pulled his arm out of his chest, and with the fallen man''s own blood, drew an ouroboros sigil on his chest.


    Theoretically, Kilian shouldn''t have known the first thing about dra control and spellcasting. But after killing the seven cultists, broken bits of their knowledge flew into his mind.


    This ouroboros sigil was the foundation of a simple hex that prevented the deceased''s soul from ever finding peace, forcing it into perpetual self-torment. Cutting open his palm, Kilian dripped his fehl-tainted blood on the sigil, fueling it with the dra contained within. Red light surged from the blood marks, announcing the hex''s completion.


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"


    The wailing sounds of Oskar''s departing soul soon echoed within Kilian''s mind, and again, he felt that high.


    Satisfied, he lay on a nearby bed and fell asleep.


    His rest was short-lived, broken by the sudden appearance of a female form that stealthily straddled him, staring right into his sleeping face.

 10 The Devil and the Beast Part 1

    Intrigued.


    Following the summon that brought her to Kilian''s side, Jezebel was intrigued. For her preeminent mother to contract a mortal was uncanny enough. But to make her only daughter a part of the bargain? That simply was unprecedented. Although human concepts of love and hatred didn''t have the same meaning in the hedonism-driven fehl society, the daemons still sheltered their own.


    For a fehl to offer close kin to an inferior existence was a thought most couldn''t even muster. Yet, her mother did. That move alone showed how much value she put on this human boy''s life. And as she stared at his face, Jezebel wondered why.


    Physical attractiveness had no effect on fehls. All were born with either riveting beauty or a grotesque appeal, able to daze and enrapture all lesser races regardless of their beauty standards. In the eyes of fehls, all appeal lay in character. Since Kilian appeared in Ostria, cloaked by an invisibility spell, Jezebel had been observing him. From how he rose from the altar, to how he dealt with Oskar, she didn''t miss one bit.


    Having toured many worlds, Earth included, she found the sarcasm in the "do not go gentle into that good night" quite entertaining. There was a uniqueness in the way Kilian portrayed himself, a silent madness and cynicism¡ªsomething Jezebel found puzzling and delightful at the same time.


    With every step, with every glance, he seemed to mock the world.


    Though nothing more than a youth on fehl standards, across her two centuries of life, Jezebel had seen her fair share of individuals. Yet, Kilian gripped her curiosity, and the more she looked at his sleeping face, the less she wished to shift her gaze.


    Meanwhile, Kilian''s eyes opened, awakening to the sight of a slender young woman around the age of 18 that shamelessly straddling him. No, it wasn''t a woman; it was art. Kilian always believed that true art was merely something that compelled a stare of complete abandon¡ªprovoking adoration.


    As she straddled him, with her ink-like, loose braids hanging on his chest -- as her snow-white skin shimmered in the darkness of the night and her almond-shaped, amethyst eyes nailed him, Kilian firmly believed that the most perfect representation of artistic splendor laid before him. The artist in him wished to reach for a brush and capture this beauty in an immortal painting. But clear-headedness triumphed, and instead he merely met her gaze.


    For an instant, their eyes interlocked. Though black in hue, Jezebel''s braids stood out with a luster that perfectly matched that of her skin. In figure, in nose, eyebrows, lips, and eyes, she met and transcended all standards of human beauty. But beyond, her entire form breathed an enthralling scent able to force even seasoned war veterans on their knees.


    If not for the mental changes wrought by three hours of slow burning at a wooden stake - with their current proximity and the short burgundy dress that left her thighs and ample cleavage exposed - Kilian''s mind would have instantly fallen into chaos.


    Jezebel enjoyed his calm, men that crumbled too quickly were of no appeal. She enjoyed the process of breaking the lofty, of making the self-imbued grovel and forsake dignity for the right to choke in her hands. Yet, Kilian didn''t seem self-imbued. Even as he lay between her thighs, the Great Wall of China seemed to stand between them. His eyes told her that in this life or in another, she could never overpower him.


    The thought made her pulse quicken, and she lowered her face toward Kilian''s, approaching her inviting red lips toward his.


    But as their noses nearly brushed, Kilian spoke words Jezebel would never forget in her life.


    "Can you crossdress? That, or disappear." The words stopped Jezebel in her tracks, and slammed by a wave of confusion, she blinked in disbelief. Did her ears betray her? A man just asked her to crossdress or disappear? Did that boy swing the opposite way?!


    But as if reading her thoughts, Kilian pursued.


    "Little jezebel, your beauty is like a Damocles'' sword. I bring you along with me, and I have to deal with all the horny bastards from Ireland to Cathay. That''s just not tolerable, so do me a favor and, in public, either crossdress or vanish," Kilian explained with such a straightforward tone that Jezebel couldn''t help but find the words reasonable.


    Then she registered how he called her, and her eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name? Did mother tell you?" Jezebel couldn''t help but ask, and now it was Kilian''s turn to see his eyes narrow.


    "Jezebel is your name?"


    "Yep."


    "Really?"


    "Why would I deceive you?"


    "Whoever said fehls'' brains work in reverse deserves a medal. What grievances does your mother have against you?" Kilian seriously asked. Who in their right mind would call their daughter Jezebel? Only fehls could come up with such a name. Maybe the next fehl woman he met would be named Delilah!


    Though familiar with the name''s modern implications on Earth, Jezebel didn''t see anything wrong with it. She was indeed impudent, shameless, and unrestrained. What was wrong with that? That Kilian truly was one hell of an odd fellow.


    But as Jezebel''s thoughts drifted, Kilian took the reins, grabbed her shoulders, and shifted their positions. Now Jezebel lay with her back against the bed and Kilian on top of her. The red sigil on his chest glittered, his loins stirred, and underneath his pants, his cock hardened, bulging against Jezebel''s spread legs. Feeling the familiar magical forces stirring within Kilian, she curled her lips into a smile.


    "Mother is truly fond of you, even going as far as to bestow you her mark. Did she mention all the boons that come with it?" Jezebel inquired. Although sadism was her primary source of fehl pleasure, and she''d yet to dabble in other fields, she''d seen all the daemons and males of various races begging her mother for that mark.


    Besides its daemon storing abilities, Ashera''s Mark could modify the nature of a man''s rod, corrupting meat and seed to turn them into creatures of unspeakable sexual prowesses. Initially, Ashera added the ability because her consorts could no longer satisfy her, thereby removing one source of pleasure from her ancient fehl life.


    Between fehls, it simply was a matter of boundless delight. But if used on mortal women¡­well, let''s just say that interesting results awaited. Now, Jezebel truly wished to see how Kilian would put that ability to use.


    She needn''t wait any longer.


    Kilian''s muscular chest dropped on her shapely breasts, pressing them as his face descended on hers, and his warm breath grazed her face.


    "She didn''t, but I can guess," Kilian replied while lifting Jezebel''s left thigh with one hand, and pressing his crotch against hers. "Do you want to try it?" He leisurely asked, making Jezebel arch her eyebrows.


    "You''re quite a bit more brazen than I thought." Even as she spoke, Jezebel didn''t avoid Kilian''s lowering face. "Bashfulness never made an arousing man." Kilian countered while their noses brushed and rubbed against one another. His cock throbbed on Jezebel''s moistening crotch, screaming its desire to tear the pants and ravage her on the spot.


    Both saw the glint of impudence in the other''s gaze. Kilian enjoyed the sight, Jezebel even more so, and she pushed her lips toward his, biting his lower lip in an unexpected show of her feral nature. Biting back, Kilian pushed her head back against the bed, meeting her rising fervor with matching passion.


    "There is a price to pay for taking a fehl''s first time," Jezebel warned as the two''s lips split. "I know," Kilian replied, neither needed further words. Again, their lips met in a blazing embrace, Jezebel''s hands moved toward Kilian''s belt, and his grasped the straps of her dress, lowering them to expose those marvelous breasts that''d easily fit a D cup.

 11 The Devil and the Beast Part 2, R-18

    There was more than one reason why Kilian wanted Jezebel; lust wasn''t half the equation. In danger lay treasures. Mating with fehl creatures might be a hazardous task, but in success, ample rewards awaited. As for Jezebel, curiosity gripped her. She wondered if binding herself to the oddity before her would trigger something new in her fehl mind.


    With perfectly measured moves, she unfastened Kilian''s belt, helping his pants drop as he wormed his way out of them. Fred by Jezebel, Kilian''s cock sprang free, rearing up its erect head to kiss Jezebel''s crotch. The cock''s heat pressing her intimate parts sent a jolt of electricity throughout Jezebel''s body. Lowering her dress until he reached her trimmed abs, Kilian pulled his tongue away from Jezebel''s luscious lips, attacking her neck instead.


    His tongue trailed her neckline, kissing and planting hickeys as he went.


    "Mhm¡­" as Kilian toured her neck, moans of contentment escaped Jezebel''s lips. On the one hand, she felt her entire body relax, on the other hand, a tingling sensation assailed her loins, and as she stirred in Kilian''s embrace, she raised the lower hem of her skirt, revealing the red satin panties underneath.


    Kilian slipped his cock between the panties and Jezebel''s moist cunt, making his 20 cm of meat rod experience the embrace of flesh and fabric. With a mischievous smirk, Jezebel pulled her skirt over Kilian''s cock, as if trying to hide what went on underneath. Amused, Kilian rubbed his cock faster on Jezebel''s slit, teasing her clit as he went, and fondling her hefty breasts within his firm hands.


    She enjoyed the touch, enjoyed the kisses, the caresses, how his cock grew increasingly warmer, beating with glaring excitement¡ªthreatening to force its way into her cunt. She relished in the feel of their meshing bodies, the liberties he took with his hands. It was a fresh, novel sensation that made the choking of subdued men a dull matter.


    Pinching Jezebel''s erect nipples, Kilian pulled and played them with a firm, yet gentle care, trailing his tongue down her cleavage and onto her breasts to have a taste of her supple flesh. Jezebel''s paced moans grew louder and more frantic. Feeling herself lose control, she shifted Kilian back onto the bed, moved onto the opposite side, and scissored his cock between her drenched inner thighs, jerking him off without warning.


    "Ohhh¡­" Kilian groaned for it was now his turn to experience the feeling of losing strength and control as his body surrendered to the pleasure his partner provided him with. Jezebel''s thighs were like silky gloves pumping Kilian''s shaft with masterful expertise. Fehls were naturals, the most delightful partners other races could dream of. As a high-ranking fehl, every inch of Jezebel''s body was a treasure trove. Even her love juices acted as stimulants making Kilian''s blood flow faster.


    Meanwhile, the precum dripped by his shaft tumbled on Jezebel''s thigh, making her quiver with the depraved energies concealed within. Her cunt ached for Kilian''s cock, protesting against the ongoing teasing that drove the two of them into an animalistic rut. Their moans resounded within the ramshackle house, bypassing its thin walls to alert any possible bystander of what went on within.


    Unable to endure further, Jezebel let go of Kilian''s cock, spreading her legs while resting her weight on her hands and feet to fall in a reverse table pose. Seizing the opportunity, Kilian moved between Jezebel''s legs, tore her panties off, seized her waist, and aligned his cock with her dripping cunt. In one direct thrust, he drove his meat rod into the daemoness'' hole, making her body tremble, her eyes widen, and her lips curl into an "O" shape.


    A loud groan left Jezebel''s lips.


    The constitution of fehl daemonesses differed from human ladies. Things such as periods and membranes didn''t bother them. Therefore, Kilian met no barrier besides the tightness of Jezebel''s snatch. So tight her cunt was that he too groaned, wincing as his cock adjusted to Jezebel''s love tunnel, and her walls warped to adapt to him.


    A fehl daemoness'' pussy wasn''t a delicacy anyone could afford to enjoy. The feeble couldn''t escape dying from pleasure in the most literal of senses. And as Jezebel''s walls danced around his cock, squeezing and pulling him deeper inside as if animated with a will of their own, Kilian could see why.


    Just one thrust, and it took him a great show of willpower to not bust his nut. Once he started moving, he didn''t doubt Jezebel''s cunt would wring him dry. But at that time, Ashera''s Mark shone with a crimson hue, not only fueling Kilian with renewed vigor but lacing his cock in a red, infernal light.


    The energies spread within Jezebel''s body, sending her already dazed mind into more chaos. Their sensitivity increased, their senses heightened, and while holding on the daemoness'' waist, Kilian drove his cock back to the entrance, dragging it against her enthralling walls and pulling more groans from both their lips.


    Thrusting back and forth, Kilian first explored every inch of Jezebel''s tunnel, finding and memorizing the areas that pulled throatier moans from her luscious lips. But soon, as the Ashera bestowed energies filled her, Kilian realized that her entire form became a pleasure house, with every inch of her body becoming a source of orgasms.


    With no need to hold back, Kilian smacked his hips against Jezebel''s cunt, driving his cock increasingly faster into her. Jezebel''s hefty breasts bounced unceasingly. The sound of flesh meeting flesh - of balls kissing ass cheeks - soon echoed in the room, blending with their moans as they surrendered to raw pleasure and primal instincts.


    "Ahhh...ahhh...ohh yess...faster...faster!" Squelching and smacking sounds intertwined in a lovely melody as Jezebel spurred Kilian on, making him hammer at her cunt with the full speed he could muster.


    The faster he pumped in, the more she wanted him to ravage her hole, and tormented by waves of unspeakable pleasures, they simply cried their delight, rutting without a care for the world surrounding them.


    Though inhumanly flexible, in her current position, Jezebel couldn''t effectively meet Kilian''s thrusts, so - without letting his cock go - she shifted on her front. Her ass cheeks now stood in full view, and the pounding didn''t stop. Jezebel''s hips met Kilian''s every thrust, impaling herself on his cock with complete abandon.


    But as Kilian''s cock hammered her, Jezebel felt a different kind of orgasm building from within her loins and spread throughout her body¡ªrocking her into a new world of bliss.


    "Ohhh...ohhh...ohhh...coming...I''m...coming!" She groaned, and as if answering her call, Kilian''s cock tensed, announcing its release. While Jezebel trembled in a mind-numbing orgasm, Kilian unloaded his corrupted seed within her, filling her cunt to the brim. In that instant, Jezebel''s form changed. Her skin turned purple, a red sigil appeared on her forehead, and large black feathered wings sprang from her back, giving her the appearance of a fallen angel.


    Without warning, she pounced back on Kilian''s cock. Their sweaty bodies entangled for hours, and both soon lost count of how much they came. At some point during the night, the infernal rod overpowered the daemoness, and she passed out in Kilian''s arms. He followed her soon afterward.


    But as dawn reared its head, Kilian awoke, and as if sensing it, Jezebel too rose from her slumber.


    "Congratulations - husband - we''re officially bound for 100 years." Jezebel declared in a half-jesting tone.

 12 Fehl Bond

    A unique trait of the fehl race, the Fehl Bond united fehls and their first partner for a century. Linked in body, mind, and soul, although they couldn''t directly read the other''s thoughts, the bonded would experience all emotions and sensations of the other party for the next 100 years.


    The Fehl Bond wasn''t a choice. The bonded partners couldn''t turn it on or off because they found it inconvenient. For that reason, fehls selected their first partners with the utmost care, often picking siblings or companions of centuries. Initially, Jezebel''s elder half-brother, Mazdan, had been handpicked by Ashera to enjoy the privilege. However, her two centuries of travel throughout various mortal worlds left him unable to pluck the fruit.


    Knowing that her princess had no interest in the chosen mate, Ashera didn''t press the matter further. But believing an oddity such as Kilian would fit Jezebel''s uncanny tastes, Ashera made her part of the deal. Of course, Jezebel''s delight was far from being the only reason behind Ashera''s move.


    Having obtained vast information on the fehl race from Klaus'' archives, Kilian had long been aware of the Fehl Bond. But, for three reasons, he didn''t care for it.


    First, Jezebel was far more powerful than he was. Although he couldn''t determine Ashera''s position in the fehl hierarchy with exactness, Kilian didn''t doubt she stood at the upper level. The discrepancy between the potency of her boons and Kilian''s initial condition ensured that she - at least - exceeded the Fehl Lord altitude. As her daughter and Kilian''s alleged assistant, Jezebel''s strength undoubtedly surpassed his by a large margin. That being the case, their bond added an extra level of security to his plans.


    Second, dra. Jezebel''s first time carried with it a massive dra boost for Kilian. He could already feel his veins swelling with the violent surge of dra spreading throughout his body. A brief observation showed that from the initial 5,000, Kilian''s dra values rose to 11,000¡ªa 120% boost!


    At his current magical level, without his fehl body supporting him, such a massive leap would have blasted Kilian into pieces. The majority of human Archons started with 5,000 dra. Someone like Kilian who''d not even learned how to control dra but possessed more than an Archon was entirely unheard of! Perhaps on dra quantity alone, even Klaus couldn''t rival him.


    Of course - though dra held substantial weight in the equation - dra quantity and strength were two different concepts.


    Third, fehl. Growing the Eye of Fehl and unlocking its new abilities would undoubtedly require vast sources of fehl energies. And in terms of fehl energies, Jezebel was a treasure trove. Kilian could already feel his third eye stirring as it digested the streams of fehl might unleashed by the daemoness.


    "As the saying goes, to build your position and career, you need to fuck the right person," Kilian shrugged, visibly unfazed by the words'' implications. And when they echoed, Jezebel had to admit that underneath his detached exterior, Kilian hid quite the ruffian.


    "Ohh, said like a true Lothario, you''d make your mother proud," Jezebel sighed with grand theatrical gestures. But by the time her eyes fell back on Kilian''s, an inexpressive yet bone-chilling glare awaited her.


    "Sensitive topic? That means I can''t call you son of a bitch next time you shag me? Got it." Jezebel promptly apologized, and nestled up against Kilian''s chest. She''d not even spent three seconds in his arms that Kilian shoved her onto the ground.


    "Ah!" Jezebel''s yelp resounded alongside a loud thud. As if hit too heavily, she didn''t stand up, sprawling on the ground with her face twisted in a grimace of pain.


    *Sniff* *Sniff* *Sniff*


    "Mother, how could you be so cruel as to donate your only daughter to such a savage beast? Now that he''s done using me, he''s tossing me aside like some worn-out shoes! Aaaaah!" Jezebel sobbed with warm tears while her body writhed in false anguish!


    Any bystander would have been tricked by the performance. Fortunately, Kilian was a man of iron will, and wouldn''t allow this flippant creature to swindle him! And seeing that her relentless sobbing pulled no reaction from Kilian, Jezebel resumed a serious look.


    "Alright, let''s discuss proper business," Jezebel began while rising from the ground to sit beside Kilian¡ªeying his poker face with a gentle smile. "What''s your big plan, handsome? Although mother wants you to grow the Eye of Fehl to the limit, you undoubtedly have goals of your own.


    What is it going to be? World dominion? History''s largest harem? Endless wealth? No, my Lothario can''t possibly be that dull," Jezebel rattled off. Meanwhile, Kilian closed his eyes. At first, he considered building a world of perfect equality. But as he weighed the means to achieve such an end, the thought soon crumbled.


    On Earth, he experienced lawful inequality. On Arcadia, he awoke to a dystopian madness. Between the two, where was the template? Perhaps the problem was never society, but human nature. Man relished in exceeding his peers. Commoners and nobles, lowborn and highborn, lower class and upper class, the cycle just kept repeating. Topple one template, and the next order would build a new form of inequality.


    Kilian now realized that a world of perfect equality was nothing but lunacy, a childish yearning. As Klaus often said, nature decreed that men couldn''t be equal; therefore, tolerable inequalities were the highest point man could ever reach.


    Only God could build such a utopia, a world where all grew with the same opportunities. But God died, and with his current abilities, Kilian didn''t dare dream of replacing him. Moreover, as a fehl mutant, the world was his enemy. What time did he have to care for the common man''s plight when none of them would hesitate to cast stones at his burning frame? Not cursing their ignorance was generous enough.


    No.


    The world of men could collapse.


    The world of mutants should rise. A world where the tainted needed not burn at wooden stakes, needed not hide like wretched beasts, and live their lives in fear of barbaric slaughter. The fehl-tainted never chose the taint, never chose their mutation, never chose to become beasts.


    Unlike the commoners that surrendered to the tyrannical yoke of the aristocracy without the tiniest thought of rebellion, the only thing the tainted never had was...a choice. It was high time they got one.


    "Take control of the taint, erase the madness, destroy the Arcadian Empire, the Seven Grand Orders, and build a country for fehl monsters," Kilian finally replied, making Jezebel''s eyebrows rise in surprise. Her Lothario indeed was quite the unusual fellow.


    "Monsters or monster girls? You vile little thing," Jezebel rolled her head, making Kilian wonder if he shouldn''t find a way to permanently keep her mouth shut.


    "Such words will make you public enemy number one. From the Arcadian Empire to the Chiropteran Dynasty, from the Wailing Sea to the Undying Horde, none wish to see the rise of the fehl-tainted.


    The insanity of fehl beasts is a convenient tool enabling those world superpowers to maintain their desired status quo. How can you break it?" She seriously asked. Although before an existence such as her mother, those superpowers were nothing worth mentioning, the current Kilian was in no position to look down on them. With a casual command, the Emperor of Arcadia could raze the entirety of Orloth to the ground, slaughtering its 160 million denizens. Even the Duke of Kars couldn''t survive his wrath.


    Kilian naturally understood Jezebel''s concerns. But since he dared set foot on the road, he was prepared to face the consequences.


    "One step at a time, starting with the Imperial Academy."

 13 The Imperial Academy

    Known as the mother of talents, the Imperial Academy was the number one magical institution of Arcadia, founded by the first emperor to assess and groom the new generations of arcane talents. Bound to the imperial crown, it also served as an information-gathering machine enabling the von Skoll emperors to hold precise knowledge of the various kingdoms'' top talents.


    The Emperor of Arcadia, the Grandmasters of the Seven Orders, the King of Orloth, the Duke of Kars¡ªall were graduates of the Imperial Academy. Of course, their performances and gains vastly differed. Niklas von Skoll, the emperor, was the mightiest graduate of the Imperial Academy in the last 500 years.


    His magical powers were such that with a spell, he could obliterate entire countries. Before him, the likes of King Erik could only grovel like baseborn serfs. And in this generation, only the Duke of Kars appeared as sufficiently gifted to catch up to the emperor''s might. But whether he would live to reach that altitude still was a matter of debate.


    In fact, within the imperial city, many noblemen and women wondered why Klaus still breathed.


    "Although the Imperial Academy''s strength loses to the top three Grand Orders, it can rival the lower four. The department chairs all are at least low-level Archons while the headmaster stands at the top-level. As for the remaining instructors, they at least are High Emissaries. How do you plan to subvert them?" Jezebel directly asked. While her strength surpassed that of the Imperial Academy, in the mortal plane, she couldn''t run amok.


    The higher they ranked, the more restricted fehls were in the mortal plane. Those at Ashera''s level couldn''t even step foot into it, at least not without triggering cataclysmic events. Although Jezebel''s shackles were nowhere near that threshold, Kilian couldn''t rely on her to overturn the seas and heavens.


    "Let''s not even discuss subverting; even the entrance is a problem," Kilian began, straightening his back to face his fehl partner. "500 qraftas for one year of tuition fees. On average, 50 qraftas per book. I''m too poor to set foot into the door." The Imperial Academy was part of the many topics discussed by Klaus; therefore, Kilian had an in-depth understanding of the institution.


    Money served as a barrier of entry to prevent the lesser nobility from accessing the academy''s elitist community. Typically - in terms of status - the descendants of marquises were the lowest-ranked students within the academy. Of course, some counts would break their treasury to send one offspring to the academy in hopes of building lifelong connections. As for magically gifted commoners, unless they obtained the sponsorship of high-ranking nobles, the Imperial Academy would never open its door to them.


    In his previous life, if he''d not received the fehl taint, as the heir of Kars, Kilian would now be a student of the Imperial Academy with a status similar to royal princes. But now, he couldn''t even afford to glance at the door¡ªthe plight of the common man.


    "That''s not difficult. Just rob the coin. Don''t we have a viscount nearby awaiting plunder?" Jezebel offered, speaking with such candor that her words almost sounded righteous¡ªalmost.


    Still, Kilian shook his head in disapproval. "Short-sighted, we might as well tame the cow with nano-spiders, and use him as a source of investments to turn the slums into a new source of income. Through the fleshcrafting of dead or living women, I can create an unrivaled brothel that will not only serve as a vast source of income but feed me with a large array of information."


    "Would you rather use dead women because they''d entirely be at your service and wouldn''t require further tempering? But at your current level, you can''t possibly produce a functional brain."


    "Actually, that doesn''t really matter. I can produce and link their bodies to A.I. chips to replace the brain. That or create nano spiders to control the living. I just think that having noblemen scream in delight from the touch of corpse-made puppets would make my life more entertaining."


    "Spoken like a true fehl. When do we start?"


    "After we destroy the house and bury the dead lady."


    Following the exchange, Jezebel snapped her fingers, making the two get dressed in record''s time. They then stood up and walked out of the house. Throughout the slums, no proper burial place existed. Bodies were either tossed into ditches or cremated on open-air pyres. Kilian chose the latter. Understanding his thoughts, Jezebel snapped her fingers, causing orange flames to surge from the ramshackle house and turn it into a raging inferno.


    Strangely, though of startling intensity, the flames didn''t spread to the nearby houses, wrapping only the dwelling of the fallen Stenzel household.


    Unlike the majority of other races, fehls didn''t need incantations to cast spells. Instead, all spells stemmed from their will. They willed magic rather than weaving it. This was one of the many reasons why all scholars and researchers saw the fehl race as the apex of the arcane world.


    Standing on the roof of the opposite dwelling, Kilian and Jezebel silently observed the cremation. An abrupt surge of fire and smoke quickly alerted the nearby denizens. Afraid of stray bullets, dozens rushed out to identify the source of the raging flames, attempting to extinguish it with water buckets to prevent further spread. All to no avail, of course.


    Once they realized the fire not only wouldn''t go away but also seemed unable to spread further, the majority returned to their houses, with those closest to the Stenzel household opting to sleep on the streets to wait the fire out. Only twelve figures remained.


    On the one hand, a 1.9 meters tall herculean youth around the age of 17 that desperately dragged and hurled water at the inextinguishable fire. On the other hand, a green-eyed brunette of the same age directing ten men to support his efforts. Their sweat served no purpose, and after burning all it was meant to, the fire naturally died down.


    Kilian''s eyes went from the herculean youth to the brunette, seeking through Lukas'' memories their names and bond to the Stenzel. Two names emerged from the memory pile: Bjorn and Lena.


    Although it was now broad daylight, cloaked by Jezebel''s magic, none could see the two sitting on the opposite house''s roof. Bjorn and Lena were no exception, and thus had no idea of the pair of eyes scrutinizing them.


    Faced with the ashes of Lukas'' house, Bjorn dropped on his knees, eyes dazed by a mixture of shock and sorrow. At his right, Lena clenched her fists, refusing to believe that Lukas perished in the fire. Those were the strongest flames she''d ever witnessed in her life, leaving behind not the tiniest bit of debris. Undoubtedly, they were of a magical nature.


    Three days ago, Lukas mysteriously vanished. Because he often left without explanation, no one thought more of it. But typically, he would return within 24 hours. Now the man wasn''t back, but his house stood in ashes. Anyone would link the two.


    Perhaps Lukas offended one he should not have and suffered violent retaliation. Lukas, Bjorn, and Lena all were childhood friends. But over the years, Lena stepped away from them, embracing the darker sides of the slums to form and lead her own band of renegades. Now an emerging power, her gang dominated the area¡ªthreatening the hegemony of the four principal gangs.


    For several months, she''d tried to rope Lukas in. On the one hand, due to his apparent skills -- on the other hand, because of selfish motives. Of course, he denied her. And thinking of how spiteful words and a heated argument would stand their final moment, Lena felt bitterness swell within her heart.


    As for Bjorn, for a decade, Lukas had been his only friend and a source of tremendous support. A slum orphan, he would not have survived the streets if not for the resourceful Lukas'' assistance.


    Later, although he managed to stand on his own feet, he never forgot the debt of kindness. The two of them had been through thick and thin, crossing the innumerable dangers of this wretched place back to back. Never did he expect that before they could carve their way out of it, Lukas would suffer such a ghastly fate!


    But as the two lamented the fallen, Kilian emerged from the shadows, leaping toward the ground, and taking leisurely steps toward the kneeling Bjorn. Taken by surprise, both Bjorn and Lena spun toward the new entrant and were startled to see the face of the one they mourned a second before now standing in front of them.


    In that instant, Bjorn couldn''t care for the sudden appearance, rose to his feet, and with dripping tears, lept toward Kilian!


    Alarmed, Kilian sidestepped, Bjorn met thin air - and in a resounding thud - the 1.9 meters tall, herculean youth tumbled onto the ground.

 14 Behave or Die!

    Silence dropped on the scene, with the eyes of Lena''s 10 goons moving back and forth between the ground-kissing Bjorn and the impassible Kilian. As if impermeable to the awkwardness of the scene, Kilian locked his eyes on Bjorn''s massive form, scrutinizing him with glaring intensity.


    Undoubtedly, Kilian had no interest in Lukas'' past friends. Why then did he choose to appear? Bjorn''s scent.


    From Bjorn, Kilian''s fehl senses smelled an uncanny scent that instantly made this human youth the center of his attention. Though she too felt it, Jezebel didn''t pay the scent much attention. As a high-ranking fehl, she could effortlessly identify its root and implications.


    It was evolution''s scent. Fehls were an evolution-based race. Be it mutants, beasts, or daemons; all were driven toward evolution. The growing madness in mutants wasn''t merely an inevitable consequence, but a warning hurrying them into finding the means to rise to daemonhood. Only by becoming daemons could mutants stop the crushing corruption of fehl magic and regain control of their existence. Likewise, through their barbaric frenzies, fehl beasts innately sought the means to increase their fehl energies, transcend their fate, and rise to the next level.


    But they weren''t the only ones. Fehl Daemons spent an essential part of their immortal lives attempting to rise to the Fehl Noble Rank. Fehl Nobles to the Fehl Lord Rank, Fehl Fehl Lords to Fehl Princes, and Fehl Princes to Fehl Overlords.


    But though they stood at the pinnacle of the fehl race, even the Overlords sought a higher form - a stage intrinsically linked to the Eye of Fehl - that after billions of years still eluded them all. If not for that reason, Ashera would never bother forming a pact with Kilian. And due to their profound understanding of its roots, fehls could effortlessly detect evolution processes in other races.


    With his body currently comparable to that of a low-level Fehl Daemon, Kilian naturally didn''t miss the scent. Bjorn''s DNA bore striking similarities to that of the nobility, thereby making him immune to 99% of the diseases that plagued human life. But beyond that, he was at a crossroad, and with the right input, could morph into a terrifying killing machine.


    Butchering Klaus was a minor task, a simple matter of time. Changing the established world order was the real challenge. To achieve his goals, Kilian would undoubtedly need talented subordinates. If he could put this Bjorn to use, why not?


    But as Kilian settled on his fate - with an abrupt spin - Bjorn spun to face him.


    "Lukas, heartless bastard, how dare you?!" Bjorn snarled with bulging veins, trembling fists, and a rage-reddened face. Thinking of the hours he''d spent attempting to put down the fire and the waves of despair that assailed his mind once the house burned to ashes, he couldn''t help but feel cheated. Now, before he could throw blame, "Lukas" even dared play such a prank on him?


    When did he become this heartless?


    But seeing Bjorn''s sudden rage outburst, Kilian arched an eyebrow. A 1.9 meters tall man whose biceps made twice the size of his head suddenly leaped onto him, and he was supposed to just stand there? Bjorn should be grateful that he didn''t send him to fly with the pigeons!


    Of course - for the sake of recruitment - he couldn''t say those words. Switching to humane mode, Kilian curled his lips into a smile mixing gentleness and helplessness. "Apologies, I''m still recovering from recent events," Kilian explained, and Jezebel couldn''t help but praise the accuracy of the lie.


    Hearing this, Bjorn recalled the eldritch fate of Kilian''s house, his rage dispersed, and his face contorted into a frown. Many questions swirled within his mind. Why did the house burn, what happened to Lukas'' mother and sister, where was he across the last 72 hours. But believing answers would come without questions; he suppressed the words. Playing the Lukas role, Kilian stretched his hand toward Bjorn¡ªhelping him rise from the ground. Without hesitation, he took it and stood up.


    With blond, shoulder-length dreadlocks and striking blue eyes, Bjorn would have looked quite handsome if not for those absurdly large muscles fit for a culturist. They contrasted with his amiable gaze to give him a somewhat threatening look. And before the 1.81 meters tall Kilian, the contrast only became sharper.


    Meanwhile, unlike Bjorn who now beamed with joy, as she stared at Kilian, Lena''s eyes flashed vigilance. Bjorn might be a simpleton, but as a woman that managed to establish her own gang of ruffians amidst Ostria''s cutthroat slums, Lena wasn''t easily deceived. Better, as her long-standing crush, she paid special attention to Lukas'' appearance and every move.


    Two things puzzled her. First, and most glaringly, the eyes. Although Kilian used fleshcrafting to adjust his too handsome face to match that of the fallen Lukas, their eyes spoke different tales.


    In the previous Lukas, Lena always felt a contradictory mixture of silent rage and helplessness. But when he stood beside Bjorn and his sister, Tamara, those feelings would make way for palpable warmth. But now, although Kilian''s eyes spoke familiarity, Lena could sense none of that warmth. Worse, she didn''t doubt that - unlike the previous Lukas who wouldn''t easily unsheathe his blade at her - a wrong move and the new one would gut her on the spot.


    Second, the threat level. Although she knew herself unable to contend with him, the previous Lukas never gave her such a crushing sense of helplessness. It was as if a world-sized gulf now stood between them. Either Lukas experienced drastic, magic-related changes across those three days, or this simply wasn''t him. She leaned on the latter.


    After all, how much change could one man experience across three days?


    Eager to expose the fraud - as Kilian readied to give Bjorn an explanation - Lena made various hand signs toward her ten subordinates, motioning for them to stand ready for a fight. Though surprised, they answered the command and silently unsheathed their daggers.


    Hunter households aside, the law forbade commoners from owning weapons besides kitchen knives, daggers, small hammers, and other forms of indispensable tools. Even then, they had to make an inventory of all their potentially lethal weapons. Although the aristocracy didn''t fear the common man''s rebellion, the law was a convenient excuse to conduct impromptu raids and keep their servants in perpetual fright.


    The slums may not suffer the same monitoring as the city proper, but not many dared overtly break the law¡ªunspeakable consequences awaited. Worse, in major cities such as Kars or the capital, magical detectors sweeping the entire city could determine who possessed what without fail. Although Ostria didn''t reach the major city tier, caution harmed none.


    But as Lena''s group readied for the assault, an uncanny scene occurred. Unanimously, all felt the weight of their shoulders skyrocket while their limbs stiffened without apparent cause. They could not move an inch.


    Their limbs then took control, returning the daggers they''d stealthily pulled out back to their sheaths!


    Instantly, their eyes widened with fright!


    But the worst had yet to come! As the eleven-man-strong group shivered in utter silence - with their lips unable to part - guided by a force they couldn''t comprehend, they all raised their right hands toward their faces. The foreign force tore their flesh from the inside out, engraving three bloody words on their hands:


    "Behave, or die!"


    They thundered within the ruffians'' minds, making their hearts threaten to leap out of their chest!

 15 Ostria鈥檚 Brewing Calamity

    Terror-stricken, as they stared at the three words engraved on their bleeding hands, the eleven all were terror-stricken. But so tight was Kilian''s control over them that the sweat that should have now drenched their livid faces didn''t dare appear¡ªsuppressed underneath their pores.


    Faster than her peers - Lena regained her composure - and in a flash, processed the situation. First, Lukas or not, the man standing before them meant no harm; otherwise, none of them could live to unsheathe their weapons. Second, he was a magus. Third, in his eyes, they held no worth. From beginning to end, he never once glanced at them, trusting in his superior magical powers to direct their fates.


    The thought set her heart ablaze with rage. However, she could only suppress it. Meanwhile, unaware of the building tension, Bjorn listened to Kilian''s "explanations."


    "You''ve probably long realized that I lead a double life. For the past five years, I''ve secretly worked for an assassin cult specialized in the murder of nobles, but ended up failing a task and getting framed by my superiors.


    Having no other choice, I could only escape for a while to - on the one hand, avoid retaliation - and on the other hand, lead them away from my relatives whom they know well.


    Never did I expect that by the time I returned¡­" As Kilian reached this point, his half-smile vanished, his face grew pale, his heart rate quickened, and he closed his eyes in such a show of sorrow that Lena now wondered if all her assumptions weren''t false.


    "...Tamara was gone, mother breathed no longer, and the clatter of silver coins shook my old man''s purse. In a rage, I killed him and set the house on fire. I initially planned to leave Ostria to seek Tamara''s trails, and came to say goodbye." Kilian''s voice died down while his arms trembled in "surging anguish."


    Seeing this, the concealed Jezebel had to admit that her Lothario was quite the actor. Klaus firmly believed that a man aiming to change the world should first learn to wear 1,000 masks. Therefore, he imparted on Kilian the art of trickery. The student soon outpaced the master.


    Now, Lena no longer had many doubts¡ªrealizing why "Lukas'' persona" had experienced such a drastic change. Now more than ever, there was indeed no reason for him to pay her attention. Biting her lower lip, Lena clenched her fits, turned heels, and left alongside her men.


    Meanwhile, Bjorn exploded.


    "I should have killed the son of a bitch when I had the chance!" He slapped his thigh in outrage. A year before, believing Oskar a thorn that ought to be removed, Bjorn attempted to murder Lukas'' father but was cut short by his mother''s appearance and pleas. Ultimately, he could only drop the matter. A day after Lukas'' disappearance, Bjorn paid Oskar a visit, giving him a ferocious beating as a warning.


    But subsequently, the start of uncanny events within the slums prevented him from taking better care of his friend''s family. Now, he wouldn''t have enough years for regret.


    "Blame this damnable disease. People have been falling like fleas, spreading fears of a new epidemic!" Bjorn spat, but as those words left his lips, Kilian''s face contorted into a frown.


    "An epidemic? In Arcadia?"


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, in the viscount of Ostria''s castle - within the comfort of his study - Viscount Olaf met with a mysterious man whose features remained concealed beneath a cloak. Oskar could have recognized the cloaked man as the slaver to whom he sold Tamara. And indeed, the girl stood right beside him.


    Alas, her previously vibrant hazel eyes now stood dazed and void of luster, as if a foreign force kept her mind on a tight lock. Kilian could have never expected that the slaver he thought long gone now lay in Viscount Olaf''s study, staring at a cup of tea. Of course - perhaps not knowing was best - for a slaver, the man was not.


    "How is the thing''s spread going?" The man asked in a hoarse voice that made Olaf ill at ease. Still, he didn''t dare show the tiniest bit of discomfort.


    "Sir, have no fear - in less than a week - the entirety of the slums will be infected. I also dispatched my men to ensure the process will follow the trend you requested. Even if by some absurd miracle those monkeys realized the ploy, they can''t escape." Monkeys. In the eyes of the aristocracy, be they managers or iniquitous, the commoners were no different from monkeys.


    Hearing those words, the cloaked man made no remark, reached into his cloak to pull out a bundle of banknotes, and tossed it onto the table. Dark-blue light shone in Olaf''s eyes as he activated Arcane Sight for a prompt count of the banknotes.


    Whereas Core Templars could achieve flawless dra circulation and safely infuse various parts of their bodies with dra surges, only Core Emissaries could use the same process to unlock magical abilities.


    A common tool among seasoned magi, Arcane Sight enabled its user to obtain a 360 degrees vision, scrutinize their environment, and expand their vision across dozens of meters or kilometers depending on their dra reserves and control.


    "1,000 qraftas. Sir, you are quite the generous man." Olaf jested as he picked up the banknote bundle, rubbing his protruding cheeks against its surface. As a low-level Core Emissary, Olaf''s position in Orloth''s aristocracy stood at the lower end. However, a magus he still was. With his strength, slaughtering thousands of helpless commoners was child''s play. He could also dispatch his templars to handle the task.


    Even if he razed the slums to the ground on a whim, no one could or would raise an objection. Never did he expect that someone would be so crazed as to pay him 1,000 qraftas for the slaughter of those mongrels!


    At first, Olaf simply wished to dispatch his men to handle the task. However, the mysterious man insisted the task be accomplished through a mysterious virus. Olaf couldn''t help but wonder why he''d go through so much trouble for Ostria''s 30,000 iniquitous.


    Little did he know that it wasn''t about extermination, but selection.


    ¡­


    "It started a day after you left. On the outside, the disease looks like pneumonia, but many reject the idea. First, it spreads too fast. Second, it harms too fast. It''s been only two days, and I''ve seen people that already look like they''re on the verge of death! Third, it doesn''t even spare the vaccinated!" Bjorn sighed with downcast eyes.


    Not all the slum residents were born iniquitous. Like Lukas'' family, several escaped into the slums to avoid other threats, and therefore, finding vaccinated individuals wasn''t that arduous. This world possessed a staggering medical level. If the disease indeed was pneumonia, those people should have never been affected. And yet, they were.


    But if the disease spread as fast as Bjorn claimed, why then did he - who''d spent the last two days helping the infected - show no sign of it yet? Did his evolution-stage protect him? Or perhaps¡­


    "Lead me to one afflicted," Kilian ordered, leaving Bjorn no room to dissuade him. As a quasi-fehl, Kilian feared no disease and possessed five times the lifespan of the average man. Throughout the slums, only he could approach the disease with confidence. And hearing the rigidity within his tone, Bjorn didn''t bother dissuading him. On the one hand, even a fool could see that his friend now possessed magical powers¡ªon the other hand, even without him to lead the way, finding one afflicted wasn''t that difficult.


    Leading Kilian across the streets, Bjorn brought him into a dark, secluded corner where ten people gathered, coughing with such intensity that it almost seemed as if they expelled their lives in every breath. But to say nothing of Kilian, as his eyes locked on them, even Bjorn stared slack-jawed.


    "How the fuck did this happen?" He asked in fright. On the previous night, although those ten already stood in critical conditions - at the very least - they looked human!


    But now?


    Their bodies atrophied to the point they barely had any flesh left on their bones! Worse, their skin turned grey!


    Instantly, Kilian realized the ploy, and to test his theory, rushed toward the frontier between the slums and the city proper. Believing in his friend''s instinct, Bjorn followed without a word. But although he restrained his speed at Lesser Emissary tier to prevent suspicion, Kilian still left him far behind.


    Soon, he reached the main exit, but there, an odd scene awaited. 300 guards clad in black tactical vests, and soft armor formed a blockade, preventing anyone from entering or leaving the slums! With uncanny timing, Lena appeared, bringing alongside her 12 of her goons.


    Bjorn followed moments afterward, arriving fast enough to witness the confrontation between Lena and the city guard.


    "What is the meaning of this?" She barked at the head officer in outrage. But though surprised that such a beauty still hid in the slums, he didn''t lose his head.


    "An epidemic has been detected. The slums are now officially under quarantine." The officer declared, causing Kilian to arch his eyebrows.

 16 The Technocracy

    Too fast, it was way too fast.


    Ostria counted 120,000 people, about 1,100 nobles, and 119,000 commoners with 30,000 iniquitous that lived in the slums. Of the 30,000, according to Bjorn, less than 100 were currently infected. With none having the nerve to attempt leaving the area. Less than 0.33% of an unsupervised population showed signs of a disease, and the guards already put the slums on quarantine?


    This wasn''t the royal capital or Kars. Ostria couldn''t afford their level of surveillance equipment. How did the viscount already know? Worse, unlike commoners - senescence aside - the nobility didn''t fear 99% of the traditional diseases. Why then did they have such a strong response? Why dispatch templars for a mere slum quarantine?


    Indeed, on the scene, Kilian counted three templars hiding amidst the guards.


    Either the viscount was the disease''s source, or he kept contact with it. Regardless, Olaf was intrinsically linked to this new epidemic. A nobility-made, no, a magus-made epidemic. Although she couldn''t see those facts, Lena too felt something amiss and turned to face Kilian.


    With a smile, he beckoned, motioning for her to step toward him, and as if drawn by irresistible allure, she did just that. Her goons followed on her tracks. Forcing the too tall Bjorn down, Kilian wrapped his right arm around his neck, and the left around Lena''s shoulders¡ªintimately dragging the two away from the guards.


    Once they exceeded the range of the Lesser Templars'' senses, he hastened the pace, leading them faster away to hide in a shadowy corner.


    "They''re trying to wipe out the iniquitous." Kilian stated while freeing the two from his grasp. Startled, they recoiled on several steps, and their eyes widened in disbelief.


    "Impossible. Even if Viscount Olaf were crazed, he would not just wipe out a fourth of his population. To say nothing of how much the nobility delights in abusing our existence, we''re their only source of free labor!" Lena countered, unable to believe the viscount willing to go to such extremities. The gains simply couldn''t match the losses!


    However, Kilian thought otherwise.


    "For 300 years - since the fall of the Technocracy - Arcadia''s overall technological level fell into stagnation. Little to no progress has been made." Kilian began. The majority of the discoveries and inventions, allowing the aristocracy to enjoy their current advancement level, stemmed from the "Technocracy." The word initially was a derogatory term used by arcane scholars to scorn the members of the Blind Seer Order, magi only gifted in technomancy.


    Initially, they formed the eighth and weakest of the Grand Orders. For thousands of years, they shouldered the derision and invested themselves in the production of tools that''d bring society to brand-new levels. The Dra Reactors that now power the electricity and communication channels of the continent are some of their greatest inventions.


    Over time, they welcomed the scorn, took an aloof stance from their peers, and changed their name to the Technocratic Order. The technocrats believed their inventions should benefit and be accessible to all. A thought that never sat well with the ruling powers. Still, due to their irreplaceable value, the succeeding emperors tolerated them.


    Alas, they came up with one invention that threw the arcane world into chaos: Anti-Magic Collars, a tool that gave the common man the ability to suppress magi.


    By just pressing one button, anyone could have an anti-magic collar fly at and bind itself around a magus'' neck, thereby suppressing all their magical abilities. Before that invention, jails for magi carried runes and formations that prevented the use of magic¡ªmaking runic and ritual masters indispensable to the state.


    The technocrats believed the invention would not only reduce the cost of keeping magi imprisoned, but usher an era where the arcane-gifted would learn to control themselves before even the common man.


    A terrible mistake.


    Within a week, the previous emperor and the Seven Grand Orders dispatched their troops, carrying a blitzkrieg on the technocracy. With the seven grand masters at his side, the previous emperor burned the Technocratic Order to the ground, sparing none whatsoever.


    He then posthumously accused them of consorting with fehl daemons and threatening to destroy the world! Arcadia was never again the same.


    "But now, things are different," Kilian pursued. "Emperor Niklas von Skoll developed a new research department that managed to drastically reduce the cost of golem creation. Now, all cities afflux with golems. They do not need food, do not complain, and can work 24/7 with the efficiency of 300 men. In the major cities, golems have already replaced the iniquitous as the primary labor force.


    Although in less affluent cities such as Ostria, there isn''t enough wealth to replace the relatively costly golems with the free iniquitous, the loss of those 30,000, non-tax payers wouldn''t have a significant impact on the viscount''s net worth," Kilian rationalized, making Bjorn tremble in indignation.


    Still, Lena remained unconvinced.


    "Fine, they don''t need us anymore. But why go through the trouble of infecting us with a new disease when they could slaughter us all within a day? It''s not like we have the law protecting us.


    Commoners only have rights before commoners, and the iniquitous have no right whatsoever. This operation undoubtedly requires an investment. Why would Olaf spend the time and resources to carry on this project? Just for sport?!" She countered. The words indeed weren''t easily digestible.


    But as Kilian''s eyes swept the slums, and his senses spread to the atrophying afflicted, then fell back on Bjorn, he held no doubt regarding his theory. However, at Lena''s current level, the truth would seem far-fetched and require explanation Lukas shouldn''t have been able to provide.


    Fehl explanations.


    "To believe or not to is your choice. But make no mistake, if you spend another day in this place, you''re doomed."


    Kilian stated, leaped across various buildings, and vanished from the two''s sight¡ªgiving Lena no time to interject.


    "Hateful!" She cursed, spun, and left. Now, only Bjorn remained.


    ¡­


    Once he was out of the two''s sight, Kilian''s speed shot up, and in a flash, he landed beside Jezebel. She''d never left her original spot.


    "Welcome back, my little Lothario. I missed you." Jezebel said as soon as Kilian returned.


    "You''ll have to teach me magic," Kilian stated, not beating around the bush. The sudden request took Jezebel aback, and she turned her amethyst gaze toward Kilian.

 17 Overdrive

    "Why?" Jezebel directly asked. Better than anyone, Kilian should know that her magic, fehl magic, would make his taint spread faster¡ªhastening the descent into full-blown madness. Although she had the means to restrain the side effects - until Kilian reached a higher magical level - learning fehl magic was rash, at best.


    She knew it, he knew it, so why was he in such a hurry to learn the craft?


    "I''m sure you can see it. Something horribly wrong is going on in this place. The girl has a point; Viscount Olaf would never waste the required money to carry out such an operation. Better, the man doesn''t have the skillset. This is either the work of a biomancer or a high-level technomancer skilled in genetic engineering and all manners of DNA modification.


    The dying are those¡­" Kilian began, but before he could finish his words, Jezebel ended them for him "...that fail to take the change¡ªwhatever it might be." Although she''d not followed the three in their explorations, Jezebel''s senses swept the slums, locating all the afflicted and briefly studying their condition. Granted, she couldn''t say with certainty how the culprits engineered the process, she now saw the general outline and expected consequences.


    But why did that matter?


    "I know you want to use these parts as the first step of your revolution. But it''s unnecessary trouble. At worst, you take the viscount, empty his house''s wealth, and start over elsewhere. Ostria''s self-destruction has nothing to do with us." Those were reasonable words. However, Kilian thought otherwise.


    "I will stop you right there.


    First, we are dealing with a faction whose might and objectives we know nothing of. Obviously, they do not dare to challenge the empire openly. But behind the scenes, they don''t seem to have that many scruples. If they did, they wouldn''t target 30,000 people.


    I infer that Ostria is merely the first guinea pig. If that faction''s work bears the expected fruit, nothing stops them from repeating the same thing elsewhere. And what if we stand in the new area? Run again? No.


    If a truck barrels into me, I will have it turn back. If a mountain collapses, I shall revert its fall, and if a thunderbolt strikes, I shall send it back into the heavens.


    Never, never again will I allow helplessness to be my sole recourse." The words burst from Kilian with an intensity that - for a second - made Jezebel stagger. Better, due to their bond, she could feel the billowing flames of determination within his heart. Never did she expect that her casually spoken words would trigger such a fierce reaction from him. But then again, what did she know of his experiences?


    Following a brief pause, Kilian pursued.


    "Moreover, what if here lies an opportunity? What if we can turn the ploy to our advantage and reap the true mastermind''s benefits? What if I can not only get wealth but weapons at one third the price? As for the effects of fehl magic, I have a plan."


    Even without fehl magic - as long as the mutants breathed - the taint would slowly spread, undeviatingly driving them into embracing the beast thriving within their souls. The fehl attribute aside, a critical reason why fehl magic hastened the descent into insanity was its weight on "will."


    There was no such thing as chants or incantations when fehl magic was concerned. Therefore, just like fehl daemons, mutants and beasts dabbling in fehl magic did so using their will as the medium. Alas - in typical cases - the will of non-fehls couldn''t compare to that of the daemons. It wasn''t merely a matter of willpower. The very nature of their psyche differed.


    Another issue was that fehl magic started at the third circle. They had no such thing as First and Second Circle spells. Therefore, although in terms of will Kilian exceeded low-level magi, learning fehl magic before the High Emissary rank wouldn''t leave him unscathed.


    At least not unless his dra control abilities reached the High Emissary threshold. To reach High Emissary tier dra control in less than three days: That was Kilian''s plan. If anyone heard those words, they wouldn''t even bother to call him insane, and directly alert the psychiatric authorities.


    Madness, it was pure madness!


    And as she stared into Kilian''s cold -- yet blazing eyes, as she experienced his surging determination, Jezebel could guess the words about to leave his lips.


    "Use a Fourth Circle Overdrive spell to multiply my learning pace by 256." In the instant those words echoed, a gush of cold wind blew on the scene, making Jezebel''s skirt flutter as she pried into Kilian''s hazel eyes to ensure that her ears didn''t betray her.


    When convinced they didn''t, Jezebel stretched her right hand toward Kilian''s forehead, "Strange; your temperature seems fine. You''re sure you didn''t go mad from a fever?" She seriously asked. Overdrive was a common spell among non-human magi. Each level multiplied the learning pace by the matching power of four: four, 16, 64, 256, and so on.


    On immortal races such as the fehls, the chiropterans, and the like, higher levels of Overdrive merely left them in an increasing sense of weakness. But on mortals, the aftereffects were not only worse but also cut lifespan.


    10%, 25%, 50%, 75%, 100%. Mortal races couldn''t go beyond the Fifth Circle Overdrive. Although Kilian now possessed five times the average man''s lifespan, a Fourth Circle Overdrive spell would reduce him to a maximum of 125 years. Considering his age and future prospects, the 375 years worth of loss might not seem significant, but nerve-racking physical damages awaited.


    Burning at a wooden stake would feel no worse.


    Little did Jezebel know that Kilian already perished from a Baptism of Fire. Before that three hours long, slow roasting, no manner of physical damage would ever again matter.


    "If I went mad, it''s from staring at you for so long," Kilian replied with a radiant smile, grabbing Jezebel''s wrist, and lowering her palm back onto the roof.


    "Well sa-...wait, what?" At first, Jezebel thought the words pleasing to the ears, but once she registered the hidden meaning, they stung her mind. Her Lothario indeed was as smooth as he was ruthless.


    Meanwhile, with his lips curved in that radiant smile, Kilian motioned for Jezebel to pick up the pace, and stop wasting his time. Seeing this, she shook her head.


    "Ah, my little Lothario, for the sake of seeing you smile more often, I don''t mind being the butt of your jokes." Jezebel sobbed like a wronged wife''s veiled complaints. Rolling his eyes, Kilian pulled her hand and leaped from roof to roof¡ªleading her toward one of the four major gangs'' locations.


    In a flash - he cleaned the trash - and readied the place for their occupation.


    Never did those mobsters expect that in broad daylight, a blur would assault them¡ªsending them spiraling, like missiles, into the sky. By the time they dropped back onto the ground, Kilian had taken them into his Hellforge, erasing them through the Experience Refiner.


    On average, the 26 man-strong gang provided him with 3 k.p. per head. A paltry amount that still boosted him by an extra 78 k.p. Kilian now had 243. Quite obviously, the kidnaping and refining of legions was the best way to pile up knowledge points. Through this method, quantity could make up for quality.


    But though this method could enable him to abuse the system, Kilian had no interest in spending the remainder of his life shoving men into test tubes. And to say nothing of the unwanted attention he''d undoubtedly draw, Ashera''s words still rang in his mind.


    "Having chanced upon a relic of Arkhan, your luck is indeed quite rotten. This little thing can help you accomplish wonders, but beware. Don''t let it ruin you before I get my due." The words needed no explanation.


    The system was no friend, but an ally of fortune. Therefore, as far as it was concerned, he could only thread with caution. Perhaps overloading it with too much k.p would end up backfiring?


    Kilian wasn''t so conceited as to think himself the first owner. How then did the others die? Natural cause? Enemies? Or perhaps they all reached a certain knowledge quota, and ended up devoured by the so-called Arkhan!


    ¡­


    Alongside Jezebel, Kilian settled within the previous gang leader''s room¡ªsitting crossed-legged while she knelt before his back.


    "Your life, your choice. But you will pay back every iota of pain in bed," Jezebel declared before pressing her silky palms against Kilian''s upper back.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Overdrive."


    Guided by her will, Jezebel''s dra gushed forth, permeating the air to morph into four sky-blue circles. The circles surrounded Kilian, trapping his form in a sky-blue whirlpool of arcane light.

 18 Weaving Magic

    In the instant the spell kicked in, Kilian closed his eyes. Overdrive lasted only for 72 hours, a time he split into two. First, studying the Compendiums of Technology and Species as well as the first chapter of the Compendium of Spellcrafting.


    According to Kilian''s calculation, this would take him 20 hours. He could then use the remaining 52 to experiment with dra and the learned principles. The sky blue whirlpool shrank around Kilina''s form, turning into four flame arrows that dived into his brain. Immediately, Kilian felt as if the world around him moved at a tortoise pace, his reaction speed, thinking speed, all his senses rose to extreme heights, giving him the misconception that perhaps he could now grasp the root of all existence.


    Not letting the new surge of sensations get over his head, Kilian wasted no time and dove into the Hellforge. Returning to the laboratory, he strode toward the bookshelf, first pulling out the Compendium of Technology to start his studies. But though he couldn''t sense it, even his movement speed had exponentially risen.


    As a book gathering knowledge on various technologies, the available parts in the system and how they functioned, and the fundamentals of Technomancy. The Compendium of Technology was a wealth of complex information that''d left most non-magi peeling off their skin in frustration.


    Kilian, however, breezed through it as if it were the Weekly Shonen Jump. With his own foundation and the Overdrive spell powering him, it couldn''t be simpler. And if the detailed concepts of nanotechnology, supramolecular chemistry, and the like were startling enough, when Kilian reached the process of creating artificial stars and turning them into power sources, his eyes widened in disbelief.


    Whoever wrote this book undoubtedly stood at the summit of the technological world¡ªunrivaled in the past or present. But though the author seemed to crave anonymity, Kilian could guess that besides the system''s creator, no one else could possess this level of technological knowledge. Again, the name of Arkhan echoed within his mind, and Kilian resolved to find out more about the man from Jezebel.


    Meanwhile, hours succeeded one another, and from the various principles of technology, Kilian moved on to the fundamentals of technomancy.


    "Conception, Change, and Creation, those are the building blocks of technomancy, the creed all technomancers should live by. Technomancy doesn''t know right or wrong and transcends lesser concepts of good and evil.


    Understand this truth, and the door to limitless knowledge shall open to you. In the pursuit of endless breakthroughs, the only limit is the self." Those were the final chapter''s first words, words that gave Kilian a glimpse into Arkhan''s mind.


    In the following pages, Kilian discovered the elementary principles of transmutation magic, but more importantly, principles of dra manipulation. Traditionally, spells were either whispered, sung, danced, drawn, screamed, or played. Humans typically stuck to incantation whispering, using them to shape dra and form magical circles.


    Incantation-free dra manipulations in human society, especially below Archon level, were restricted to body strengthening and abilities such as Arcane Sight or Dra Wards. This book took it to another level, revealing ways to turn dra into pure energy to fire beams and the like without incantations. Better, only technomancers possessed the required knowledge and foundation to utilize the method.


    Once they mastered that step, technomancers could bring transmutation magic to unprecedented heights. The fallen Technocracy would kill for such knowledge. The book even featured several Meditation Chants.


    Though useless to Archon and above, Meditation Chants were of vital importance to lower level magi, enabling them to connect to and absorb the dra within the atmosphere. Without them, even gifted aspiring magi stood no chance to connect to dra.


    After careful deliberation, Kilian picked a high-grade Meditation Chant: The Gospel of Pandemonium. Memorizing it, Kilian finished the remainder of the book and moved on to the Compendium of Species.


    "Congratulations, master, for completing the Compendium of Technology. Reward: 500 k.p."


    "Congratulations, master, for completing the Compendium of Species. Reward: 500 k.p."


    By the time his self-imposed deadline of 20 hours neared the end, Kilian had completed the first chapter of the Compendium of Spellcrafting. Returning the books to the shelf, he stood up and returned to the outside world. With a k.p. count of 1243 and the proper knowledge to use the parts, Kilian could directly produce his first chips and constructs. However, he first needed to practice his understanding.


    All along, Jezebel stood beside him, experiencing his mental fluctuations without a word. As Kilian''s eyes opened, Jezebel''s lips curled into a smile.


    "News of the former residents'' sudden disappearance spread, luring in a few curious eyes. I dealt with them," Jezebel began, but knowing the daemoness was always up to mischief, Kilian spread his senses toward the outside.


    There, a towering billboard stood, showcasing a flawless picture of Kilian ripping the former gang leader''s head off with a horrific grin fit for a cartoon villain. Four words crowned it all:


    "Lukas owns this turf!"


    Black lines formed on Kilian''s forehead, and he firmly believed that from now on, he could no longer appear in public.


    "When your best friend saw this, he gave six nods of approval and seven thumbs up. I counted. How are you going to reward me?" Jezebel purred and laid on Kilian''s lap. Pulling in a deep breath, Kilian restrained his murder urges and ran his hand through her lustrous hair.


    "Of all the women of this world, I had to stumble on a goat. God, who did I offend?" Kilian sighed. In desperate times, men often turned to God. And though he never in three lives knelt in a church, Kilian didn''t know who else to blame. But hearing this, Jezebel made a mental note of adding goat horns to her fehl form. She''d proudly wear them for the rest of her life.


    ¡­


    For the next 48 hours, Kilian practiced dra manipulations.


    In five hours, he learned how to channel outer dra, and flawlessly make the source of all magic circulate within his body. In the following 10 hours, he mastered the art of infusing dra with his flesh, muscles, organs, and bones. Another 15 hours, and his dra control reached such an altitude that Kilian could now weave energy wards. Thus, in merely 30 hours, Kilian saved himself a year of training, reaching the threshold of High Emissary in dra control.


    Of course, as a magus, he remained far from that level, not even qualifying as a Lesser Emissary.


    Upon learning his first spell, he could fully claim the Lesser Emissary title.


    Sky blue light rays swirled around Kilian''s form, dancing as he materialized and bent the dra within the atmosphere in various shapes. Prisms, cats, swans, bulls, and many other energy constructs succeeded one another under Kilian''s command.


    The final shape, a python, burst into energy particles, becoming a myriad of palm-sized energy orbs rippling with destructive power.


    Kilian joined his hands, and the myriad of orbs merged into a single, human-sized ball ready to fire a berserk energy beam.


    Kilian''s closed eyes opened, awakening to floating dra particles and a new world of arcane splendor¡ªthe orb vanished in swirling light.


    "Now, you''re ready," Jezebel declared, for once speaking with utmost seriousness.


    Standing up, she pressed her right index against Kilian''s forehead, flooding his mind with the basics and casting process of fehl magic.


    One Third Circle Spell also appeared in Kilian''s mind: Profane Allure.

 19 Screams of Chaos Part 1

    In Arcadia, spells were traditionally divided into six circles and two ranks. Minor Spells and Greater Spells. But thanks to the first chapter of the Compendium of Spellcrafting, Kilian knew that more lay ahead.


    A Third Circle Spell, Profane Allure enabled its caster to become the very embodiment of desire, glory, and perfection¡ªmaking all those that glanced at them entranced and inflamed with a mixture of maddening passion and zealous devotions. The caster controlled the spell''s scope. But at full power, if used before a group, the members would tear one another into pieces for the right to kneel before their living dream.


    As one of her favorite spells, Jezebel often used it in conjunction with her natural charms to cause the downfall of countries throughout various worlds. Although she possessed some selfish motives, the spell''s toll on the caster''s will was relatively low for its category, and would undoubtedly help Kilian familiarize himself with fehl magic.


    Since he already possessed significant destructive means, Kilian naturally welcomed this utility spell. One of the many perks of fehl magic was how little time it took to master spells. Since there was no incantation to digest, fehl magi could directly move on to forming the spell''s pattern through their will¡ªa hazardous process for the unprepared.


    "I still have about four hours before the backlash strikes. I will use them to conduct some transactions in the Hellforge, produce my first set of nano-spiders, and get acquainted with the spell." Kilian stated and again closed his eyes to retreat into his soul and the Hellforge lying therein. Across those 68 hours, when they came to seek Kilian''s assistance, Jezebel used some minor tricks to prevent Bjorn and Lena from figuring out what truly went on in the former bandit den.


    Deceived by her illusions, the two discussed the slums'' billowing issues with a brick, got some fictitious answers, and returned from whence they came. Meanwhile, as the slums faced a tide of catastrophes, Kilian spent 300 kp on a nano-spider blueprint and another 500 for 50 sets of parts. Now, only 443 remained.


    ----


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Human Fehl Mutant]


    [Age: 18]


    [Magus Rank: top-level Lesser Emissary]


    [Battle Prowess: top-level High Emissary]


    [Dra Reserves: 11,000]


    [Knowledge Points: 443]


    [Implants: 0]


    [Mutation: Eye of Fehl]


    [Innate Abilities: Dimensional Rift]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 3 Transmutation]


    ----


    A technomancer-only ability, just like fleshcrafting, transmutation magic scaled on dra level and control. The higher those two stats were, the more Kilian could accomplish with the disciplines. At the third level, he could already match a High Emissary.


    Relying on Overdrive''s double-edged boons and his dra control, Kilian split his focus in two, putting the first half into the construction task, and the other half in familiarizing himself with Profane Allure''s mental pattern.


    Four hours thus passed, and after draining himself of 750 dra, Kilian produced 50 nano-spiders. To the onlookers, well, there was not much to look at. The platinum spiders all appeared less than 0.1 mm wide, making ants look like giants. Kilian''s eyes, however, could perfectly see the 49 spiders circling the 50th.


    Those nano-spiders could release nanobots in their targets'' organ systems to either examine, heal, or take control of them. Of course, the scope of their effectiveness depended on who they targeted. As Lv. 1 nano-spiders, they could control anything from Lesser to High Emissaries. Beyond, failure was the best outcome.


    Pulling the 50th nano-spider, Kilian pressed it against his forehead, making it dive into his brain. As the mother spider, this little thing would enable him to flawlessly control the behavior of the other 49 - and remain in communication with their host - regardless of distance.


    In less than three minutes, the fourth hour would reach the end. But as Kilian readied to exit, a thought flashed within his mind, and he halted his steps.


    "Hellforge, I''ve been meaning to ask. How did you take me into this world?" Kilian inquired, speaking the words that''d been troubling him since his execution. If not for the Eye of Fehl, Kilian didn''t doubt his life would have ended right there. For the artifact that''d supposedly saved his life, the Hellforge''s performance left him unimpressed.


    "Master, you are mistaken. The Hellforge does not have such an ability. All it did was preserve your memories and knowledge of your previous incarnation. You died on Earth, drifted through the reincarnation circle for 78 years, and reincarnated in this world as part of the natural process of life and death. When you turned one, your past memories awoke." The Hellforge explained, making Kilian''s eyes contort into a frown.


    The figures of Viktor, Alina, and Klaus flashed within his mind, and with a step, he left the system to return to the outside. Jezebel stood right before him, holding his shoulders to ease what was to come.


    And then it came.


    *BANG*


    A deafening blast rang within Kilian''s head, ripping his body and mind asunder. His eyes widened, his lips trembled, and as his muscles spasmed, black fumes burst from his pore, draining 375 years of lifespan as they went.


    Initially, Jezebel injected her dra into Kilian''s body to weaken and soothe the blow. But the fehl bond binding them kicked in, making her experience all that he did, and she too felt her mind getting torn to shreds by myriads of poisonous blades. Although the mind and will of fehls vastly surpassed that of humans, having never experienced such a blow, Jezebel didn''t know how to face it.


    Typically, fehls could numb themselves to anything they didn''t want to feel. The bond was one of the rare few exceptions - and battered by the phantasmal blows - a spasming Jezebel collapsed on Kilian''s lap.


    "Minor league player," Kilian jested as he wrapped Jezebel in the comfort of his arms. After the initial shock, it''d only taken him five seconds to recover from the blow. Now, even as the black fumes left his pores, they couldn''t destabilize him.


    "How...why are you so¡­" The quivering Jezebel stammered, wondering why she still bore the brunt of the blow while Kilian appeared free from woes.


    "Pain is just a measure of endurance. When you reach the highest threshold your mind can bear, it will naturally go away. Just breathe." Kilian replied while running his hand through Jezebel''s hair. For the next ten minutes, Kilian babied Jezebel, helping her get accustomed to the backlash, and wait for its natural end.


    But even when it did, Jezebel acted as if she experienced the worst of tortures, using the backlash as an excuse to enjoy Kilian''s pampering.


    Knowing that he owed her more than that, Kilian didn''t expose the shameless goat¡ªmerely curling his lips into a smile.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, the epidemic reached startling proportions. Of the slums'' 30,000 iniquitous, 9,000 already contracted the mysterious disease, with more than 3,000 deaths, and many more stepping into Hades'' gates.


    Emerging from his dwelling, Kilian located Bjorn, who now stood beside Lena, tending to her affliction. Indeed, the gang leader didn''t escape her fellow iniquitous'' fates, also contracting the mysterious disease.


    But as Kilian landed on the scene, he was surprised to see another sharing her fate. Even as he desperately tended to her, Bjorn broke into coughing fits. He, too, didn''t escape the disease.


    However, Kilian ignored him, stepping toward Lena and stealthily sending a nano-spider into her nervous system. The spider released hundreds of nanobots that scoured Lena''s body and made a clear map of her condition.


    When the info reached his mind, a strange glint flashed in Kilian''s eyes. In silence, he repeated the same process on six other nearby afflicted, gathering consistent results. Only on Bjorn did the disease show a different structure.


    "A 5% survival rate. Those that survive will emerge with top-level Lessar Templar bodies and the innate desire to overthrow the state. 452, like Lena, have taken the survival road. But even they cannot compare with Bjorn''s condition. His evolution predates the virus, it''s just the trigger," Kilian realized. Throughout Arcadia, who possessed the knowledge to create such a thing? The fallen Technocracy aside, Kilian couldn''t think of anyone else.


    But at that time, the descent of night sent dusk to sleep, and darkness covered Ostria''s sky.


    Kilian''s nose twitched, and to his horror, he felt the dra throughout the slums flowing in reverse!


    "AAAAAAARGH!" Lena and the 451 other afflicted that proved compatible with the virus screamed in tandem. Though scattered throughout the slums, though previously agonizing in coughing fits, though the majority never met, they all uttered that one scream.


    The scream that welcomed Fehl!


    It dived into their bodies, but not content of triggering eldritch mutations, it went far beyond! Before Kilian and Bjorn''s startled eyes, Lena morphed, not into a fehl mutant, but straight to fehl beast!


    Her pale skin became jet-black, with fur sprouting at various parts of her form. Her teeth became fangs, her nails massive claws, a tail emerged from her back, and as she morphed into a hellhound, her sclera turned red!


    Lena rose from the bed, daggering Bjorn and Kilian with brand-new eyes, slit, hessonite eyes shimmering with feral wrath!


    "Didn''t this...escalate too quickly?!" Bjorn stammered, and Kilian couldn''t help but agree!


    Arching her back, Lena released a guttural roar, and pounced at the two!

 20 Screams of Chaos Part 2

    In Bjorn''s eyes, Lena no longer stood on the scene. Instead, a dark blur aiming for their throat replaced her. The frenzied bloodlust and killing intent surging from her form turned into mental shackles that suppressed Bjorn where he stood, preventing him from moving an inch.


    Lena swept her vicious claws in a circular arc, aiming to gash both Bjorn and Kilian''s throats in one move. But as the blow approached him, Kilian didn''t bat an eyelid, his gaze chilled, and he stretched out his right hand toward Lena''s incoming strike.


    Faster than her eyes could follow, Kilian smacked Lena''s wrist, bending her move and forcing her to backhand Bjorn instead.


    *BAM*


    Though incomparably stronger than the average man, an average man Bjorn still was. With Lena''s strength that currently rivaled that of a Core Emissary, he had no means to resist, spiraled across the room and crashed into a nearby wall¡ªencasing himself within.


    But since Kilian controlled the movement''s strength and trajectory, Bjorn merely passed out with minor injuries. The other afflicted in the room collapsed from a mixture of fright, and the oppressive scent that rippled from Lena. With a leftward flip, Lena landed back on her clawed feet.


    But as she faced Kilian''s sidelong, bone-chilling glance, the beast driving her floundered, and for a second she trembled in pure fright. Kilian spun, stepped forward, and vanished to reappear before Lena.


    *BAM*


    His right palm moved in an upward arc, striking Lena''s jaw with the force of a full-speed truck! The world around her spun, and driven by the blow she backflipped on several meters before crashing in the opposite wall. Blood gushed from her jagged maw, and her body tumbled onto the ground.


    "A fehl beast should at least be able to maul the average Core Emissary. Why can''t I see that strength? Lena, you''re turning into a disappointment," Kilian coolly stated and, as if to stress the words, put his hands in his pockets. Spurred by the scorn, Lena leaped back on her feet, arched her back, and released another feral roar!


    Flaming red light surged from her form, turning into two arcane circles that rotated by her side. Fehl beasts possessed innate sets of spells that''d grow alongside them.


    While the spell kicked in, the fur around Lena''s arms and legs, her now black mane of hair and tail, all turned into blazing flames.


    *BOOM*


    A ringing blast thundered as Lena stomped her foot and again charged at Kilian!


    "Second Circle Spell: Explosive Step," Kilian appraised. A spell that enabled its caster to burst with six times their original speed for three seconds - as the name implied - Explosive Step belonged to explosion magic, a combination discipline achieved by merging fire and wind magic. Arcane scholars preferred the term fragomancy.


    Typically, only High Emissaries could access advanced or combination disciplines. But fehl magic ignored all human laws, enabling its user to cast spells from any discipline, regardless of their innate attributes, without having to go through harrowing training and combination processes.


    Indeed, the fehl-born innately possessed all attributes. Of course, not everyone could unleash their full potential, and even with that speed burst, in Kilian''s eyes, Lena was no different from a turtle.


    Hands still in his pockets, Kilian tilted his head back, channeling the dra within the atmosphere to weave a sky blue energy ward. Lena''s claw collided with the ward, failing to leave the tiniest dent. Incensed, she burned her fehl dra to the limit, turning into a ball of orange flames to force her way through the ward¡ªall to no avail!


    "Not bad. You are worth sweating for. And if every single one of them shows the same skill, I must thank whoever created this virus," Kilian stated, and his lips curved into a smile. The nano-spider hidden within Lena kicked into gear, releasing nanobots that instantly took control of her neural system. Her flames dispersed, and she dropped onto the ground, kneeling before Kilian like a deactivated cyborg. At that time, Jezebel appeared beside him.


    "So, there are two ways to go about this:


    A) Use your profane rod to subdue her bestial mind.


    B) Keep her under control with your nano-spiders.


    C) Try to reverse the process," Jezebel began, causing Kilian to arch an eyebrow.


    "Isn''t that three?"


    "Nah, the third one is bogus. If reversing fehl mutations was feasible, we wouldn''t be here, to begin with." Jezebel gleefully replied while circling Lena''s unconscious form. From her, Kilian learned that Ashera''s Mark wasn''t merely a tool for sublime sexual prowesses, but a weapon to spread and control the taint.


    If used on non-fehls, they''d suffer rapid mutations and turn into fehl beasts. If used on fehl beasts, they''d regain their lost mind, and forever bind themselves to their savior. Undoubtedly, it was the swiftest method, but a short-sighted alternative.


    On a one to one case, the method didn''t show any immediate issue. But would Kilian have to seed the hundreds of monster girls awakening in the slums to solve the problem? Even if he could endure the blissful toll, what about the males? No - unless Kilian planned to escape Ostria with as many monster girls as he could seed - the problem required a more efficient alternative.


    "I believe it is safe to assume that the 30,000 iniquitous are all infected, with those that now show no symptoms about to drop in the upcoming hours. About 1,500 fehl beasts will rise from the slums, each with the strength to maul Core Emissaries. Worse, if they organize themselves in packs, the situation will quickly reach an alarming stage," Kilian began while kneeling before Lena.


    The nanobots kicked into gear, analyzing the virus'' new form and feeding heaps of intel to Kilian''s brain. Even the power behind this catastrophic event couldn''t guess the virus would summon waves of fehl mutations. This wasn''t something men could control...yet. Meanwhile, Jezebel stretched her senses throughout the slums, mapping out the overall situation.


    "Oh? Interesting," she whispered with a beaming face. But knowing that "interesting" in Jezebel''s vocabulary wrought no good, Kilian arched his eyebrows.


    "It spreads. Their taint spreads," Jezebel stated. At first, Kilian believed the new batch of fehl beasts arrived earlier than expected, but then he registered the meaning of Jezebel''s words, and his eyes widened in disbelief.


    "You mean that¡­"


    "Whomever those fehl beasts assault has a 5% chance of contracting the accelerated taint and becoming fehl beasts. Of the 300 guards you saw before, 14 are now raging beasts. The rest feed the worms.


    As we speak, the beasts are forming a tide and exiting the slums to ravage Ostria. The viscount received the alert, and is readying his troops for war." The unfurling chaos made Jezebel''s chest teem with excitement. Now, this was the kind of event that satisfied her fehl mind.


    Pulling in a deep breath, Kilian stood up and, just like Jezebel, cast his gaze into the direction of Olaf''s castle.


    "That being the case, the mass production of nano-spiders is the only road to success. It is time Viscount Olaf makes his contribution to science," Kilian declared, but even without the words, Jezebel could sense his intent to assault and take over the viscount''s castle!


    "Do you need my help?" Jezebel inquired. But then again, she saw the answer coming.


    "For an army of 15,000 trained soldiers backed by magical defenses and artillery? Please. Just take care of the communication channels. We can''t allow Olaf to alert the capital or nearby cities," Kilian''s words echoed like a dismissive appraisal, as if the challenge of the viscount''s army was...well, no challenge.


    With a step, he leaped into the sky, floating across rooftops at a speed the common man couldn''t follow.

 21 One-Man Army Part 1

    As the fehl beasts awoke and dove into a rampage, the silent anguish of the slums turned into a hurricane of pure violence that tore through the guards keeping them under quarantine to descend upon the city proper.


    It didn''t take five minutes for chaos to submerge Ostria, with nobles barricading themselves within their houses, and commoners running as fast as their lungs and limbs could carry them. At first, it was only a few hundred, but as minutes succeeded one another, the beasts'' ranks swelled and their frenzied roars thundered with voracious hunger.


    Nobles and commoners alike initially believed the viscount would personally dispatch troops to suppress the insurgence. But the gathering of legions of soldiers around Olaf''s castle soon proved them wrong¡ªdespair overwhelmed them all.


    Kilian didn''t stop. Though on the road he could have undoubtedly saved many, he didn''t care to stop. The screams of the deceased bore no weight on his mind and he leisurely crossed the sky to arrive before Olaf''s estate.


    Zuri, dra shards and natal conductors, those three things were of critical importance to the production of nano-spiders.


    Dra shards, as the name implied, were naturally formed containers of pure magic. The countries used them to power their dra reactors, magical weapons, and armors. Skillful mages could also channel them to cast spells they''d otherwise not have enough dra for. In magi circles, dra shards were both currencies and lifesavers.


    As for natal conductors, they played a vital role in the link between nanobots and nano-spiders, and spiders to mother spider. With three decades of tyrannical rule, Olaf amassed a vast capital. From coin to resources, his reserves would put the majority of counts to shame.


    Covering an area of five million square meters, with more than 90,000 square meters of floor space, the castle indeed was a marvelous edifice. A more than ten meters tall gilded gate and two golden statues of Olaf acted as gatekeepers, making it all look like the fool wished to scream his wealth to the world. In fact, the castle itself was of pure gold. Seeing this, Kilian curved his lips into a smile.


    How tasteless could the man possibly be?


    He now stood one kilometer away from the palace''s outer walls, facing a staggering continuous wall high of 50 meters that blocked the entrance. 45 automatic dra cannons hung at the top of the walls, remotely controlled by experts and ready to fire at the invaders.


    Across the wall''s surface, thousands of automatic artillery weapons sprouted, now locking on Kilian. Yet, despite such staggering defenses, an army of 11,000 stretched across four rows and occupying hundreds of meters of space protected the entrance, facing Kilian with clear military discipline.


    The extra 4,000 handled various posts behind the wall. Obviously, Olaf didn''t wish to put his costly artillery to use unless absolutely necessary. Based on his reputation, Kilian expected such a move. In Olaf''s mind, the lives of those 11,000 men couldn''t compare to a single dra cannon.


    Not that it mattered. Hands in his pockets, Kilian sauntered toward the battle formation, the appearance of the hazel-eyed youth whose back-length dreadlocks spoke of a commoner background filled the soldiers'' eyes with puzzlement. Thirty Lesser Templars and two low-level Core Templars stood at the forefront of their respective troops, with the two Core Templars leading the 11,000 men.


    Olaf''s captain and vice-captain. If the situation went south, those two would trigger the artillery''s strike while leading the templar group back to shelter¡ªleaving the rest of their men behind. Although they disliked the order, they couldn''t go against the viscount''s will. But as they awaited the beast invasion''s assault, little did they expect a commoner would arrive first.


    "Trespassing on the viscount''s territory is punishable by death. Boy, you asked for it." The captain wasted no time in trifles. His orders were to kill anyone or thing that stepped in a one-kilometer radius from the viscount''s estate. That boy could only blame his rashness.


    The captain raised his hand, motioning for his snipers to strike. In Arcadia, non-templars, and non-magi - the traditional soldiers that served the aristocracy - relied on nobility supplied firearms. Therefore, the 11,000 men composing the infantry all stood equipped with assault rifles, with concealed snipers ready to intercept targets.


    Ignoring the captain, Kilian carried on with his saunter. But strangely, with every one of those leisurely steps, the distance between him and the army drastically shrank.


    The sound of gunshots didn''t echo, but three bullets tore through the air as they shot toward Kilian! One aimed at his brain, another one at his heart, and the last, his neck. All three hit their target. However, the soldiers were startled to see the nailed figure carrying on as if nothing occurred.


    Unable to pierce Kilian''s flesh, the bullets dropped onto the ground.


    The darkness of night reigned within the sky, clouding the moon and combining with the chilling breeze to fill the soldiers with ominous presages.


    "If you chose to rely on your cannons, the majority might have lived. But since you picked frontal assault, I can''t disappoint your yearning for annihilation. That would be rude," Kilian stated as his lips curled into a fiendish grin, and his eyes shone with murder-lust.


    There it was, the rush, the indulgence in chaos and mayhem, in vindictive retribution, the soul-stirring call for wickedness. However, it wasn''t Kilian that yearned for it all. No, as the concentration of fehl throughout Ostria skyrocketed, Kilian''s third eye stirred, stepping closer toward the second level.


    And now, the Eye of Fehl seemed to be screaming that only a baptism in blood could finalize its rise!


    A red slit appeared on Kilian''s forehead, opening to reveal his third eye, the crimson eye that forced open the road into this third life!


    "A mutant...it''s a fehl mutant!" The captains and templars realized in a stupor. On the scene, only they possessed a clear vision of Kilian''s ongoing changes. But then, Kilian let his dra surge. 11,000 units of dra erupted from his slender form, condensing into strands of sky-blue energy and filling the area with crushing pressure. The 11,000 soldiers could barely hold onto their firearms, quivering with glaring fright. The templars were not better off!


    No, because they possessed a much better understanding of dra, they felt even worse!


    The captains once stood in the presence of Count Wilfried, Klaus'' guard captain and a top-level High Templar. But even he never made them feel such pressure! Instantly, they realized this wasn''t an enemy they could confront, and motioned toward their troops!


    "Infantry, attack!" The captain snarled while keeping his own sword sheathed. Unable to disobey the superior, the soldiers forcefully snapped out of their fright, roared for courage, and charged Kilian!


    The dreadful sounds of thousands of flying bullets thundered within the night, all aiming at the mutant. However, he didn''t bother dodging, didn''t bother blocking, and simply tilted his head back!


    "Third Circle Spell: Profane Allure!" Kilian exclaimed. The sky-blue dra surrounding him took a lilac shade, stretching like writhing tendrils while three lilac-colored circles appeared, surrounding Kilian in a charm that made the thousands of charging soldiers stop in their tracks.


    Their previous roars died in their throats and, as Kilian turned into a picture of divine perfection, the fear within their eyes made way for pure devotion¡ªdrawing them all into eternal, willing servitude.


    Each now saw the legions of infantry soldiers as an immediate threat for the master''s favor, and aimed their weapons at partners of a lifetime!


    Again, gunshots thundered, but this time, blood followed the macabre melody of firearms as the soldiers desperately shot one another¡ªexhausting their munitions on friends rather than foe!


    In just an instant, 3,000 dropped onto the ground, leaving an extra 2,000 to charge at one another with blades and seething wrath!

 22 One-Man Army Part 2

    The spellbound fools tore one another to shreds, forming a pool of blood and gore across more than one hundred meters. At the end, only one man stood, torn by ghastly wounds proving the depth of his struggle. Kilian slapped the man''s head off his neck, killing him in a single blow. But even as death took him, his lips remained curved in a foolish smile.


    Just like that, the viscount''s forces lost 5,000 men. Hidden snipers threw themselves at the ground, hoping to bask in their lord''s glory, but instead crashing and adding their corpses to the rancid pile of gore.


    One spell, 5,000 victims. A spell of that magnitude had already surpassed all those captains had come across. At least third circle, probably higher, or so they thought. However, they weren''t that far from the truth. Third Circle Spells usually cost between 300 and 1,000 dra. However, Profane Allure cost Kilian 2,500, making it close to the dra cost of the weakest Fourth Circle Spells. In terms of pure potency, it rivaled a low-grade Fourth Circle Spell. Truly fit for the fehl race and their outrageous dra reserves.


    Having never expected their forces to collapse at such speed and in such a wretched manner, the captains took a moment to process the situation. Once they did, however, they rushed back toward the gates, planning to use their micro transmitters to give the signal for a ranged strike.


    What a joke, engaging this foe in close-quarter was nothing short of lunacy! They didn''t sign up for that! As Core Templars, the two of them naturally were nobles, key members of Olaf''s house, and therefore, in love with their lives.


    A commoner''s life had little worth. But an aristocrat''s was priceless! But as they rushed into safety, two walls threw them into despair. First, their micro transmitter stopped working, preventing them from sending the signal. Second, a massive energy shield formed around the palace, preventing anyone from diving in!


    Butting against the shield, the two captains staggered and collapsed onto the ground. Without functional officers to command them, confusion spread among the troops, with many considering making a getaway.


    "OLAF! I''M YOUR LITTLE BROTHER FOR FUCK''S SAKE! LET ME IN!!!" The guard captain raged against the ward with his eyes reddened by indignation. Meanwhile, the vice captain''s eyes darted between Kilian''s incoming form and his superior''s fear-driven outburst.


    But at that time, empowered by magical devices, a voice boomed from the castle.


    "Disgraceful whelp! How dare you use such a profane language in our house! Is this how you answer to our parents'' teachings? Worse, the enemy is at our doorsteps, but instead of giving your life for your house, of dying with heroic splendor, you seek escape?!


    I abjure you!" Olaf bellowed from his castle while quivering from fright! Horrified, as he witnessed Kilian''s performance, waves of terror assailed his mind and heart! Instantly, he''d tried calling the capital, but realized all dra lines no longer functioned! This ward was his final bit of defense, how could he open it for even a second? What a joke!


    "Even when women are concerned men know neither friend nor kin, and you think that when my life is on the line, I will remember you? Bastard, I curse you!" Olaf inwardly spat, and still, his legs quivered.


    "Soldiers, have no fear, the enemy has exhausted his dra reserves and is now a dry oil lamp! This is the time to muster your strength and attack! Whoever takes his head will receive 3,000 qraftas, be ennobled if they are not, and receive land of their choosing! The survival of Ostria, of your wives and daughters, relies on your brave hands!" Olaf proclaimed, and to back his words, used a second circle spell to create an illusory version of himself.


    The fake Olaf landed on the top of the outer wall, galvanizing the troops!


    Seeing through the subterfuge, his brother broke into tears!


    "Olaf! Damnable bastard! How can you be so shameless?! Stop this charade and let me in!" The poor bastard squealed. But seeing this, Olaf sneered.


    "What a moron. Will shame help you when you feed the worms? Son of a bitch, your mother deserves to be dam¡ªoh shit." Only now did Olaf recall they both had the same mother and slapped his mouth in self-admonishment. Meanwhile, two-thirds of the remaining soldiers regained their courage, unsheathed their blades, and submerged Kilian in a hasty melee.


    The rest took Olaf''s words to heart, and deserted on the spot! How could they forget that they still had wives and daughters? Obviously those were the ones in need of their protection!


    Alas, they awoke too late.


    "Harebrained creatures," Kilian scoffed, and stretched out his hands, causing crackling sounds to echo from his bones. Controlled by his fleshcrafting abilities, they morphed and extended, protruding from his flesh like razor-sharp spikes.


    As the 4,000 soldiers descended upon him, dozens of spike-like bones now protruded from Kilian''s body, with those extending from his arms bending into curved bone-blades. Faced with a scene they''d never once met in their lives, those soldiers wondered if the viscount had not cheated them.


    But to say nothing of them, even Olaf could not comprehend this absurd change.


    "What nonsense is this? Don''t tell me he can control his osteoblast cells¡­" Olaf stammered, unable to accept such a truth. But indeed, he was right. Osteoblasts, osteoclasts, density, and flexibility, with his Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting, Kilian had absolute control of his skeletal structure.


    Stomping his foot, Kilian whirled across the soldiers, becoming a hurricane of blades as he tore through their lives. Heads, waists, chests, every time Kilian struck, minced bodies followed. Before the fools even realized what went on, their 4,000 minced bodies formed another pile on the ground. Kilian didn''t stop, vanishing to reappear before the 2,000 deserters.


    Without a word, he aimed his hands at them, firing myriads of stake-shaped bone projectiles that impaled them all to the last.


    "To live like hunting dogs, but die as deserters. Now, this is what I call human dregs," Kilian scoffed and shifted his eyes toward the two captains that still knelt before the shield. But as they witnessed this living incarnation of slaughter step so close toward them, their minds bordered collapse and they kowtowed toward Kilian.


    "Sir, if you spare me, I swear to serve you until I draw my last breath! To become your shield against arrows, your sword before your foes, to sweep all obst..." They exclaimed in tandem, but before they could finish their words, Kilian stomped the vice captain''s head into a meat paste and kicked the captain''s off his neck.


    The eye approved, and in that instant, gleamed with crimson light, announcing its rise to the next level.


    Kilian then turned his attention toward the energy ward.


    *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*


    The ringing blast of explosive salvos rumbled as the dra-powered cannons and thousands of various artillery weapons fired at Kilian. Raising his hand, he blocked them all with an energy ward of his own. By the time the last salvo died down, the raised dust vanished, revealing a wholly unblemished Kilian.


    "Dimensional Rift," Kilian uttered, causing a ten meters tall, dark-purple space gash to split the ward in two, destroying it on the spot. Seeing this, Olaf despaired. But no amount of distress could stop the inevitable end. Kilian walked into the space gash and vanished within.


    It closed after him, but a new, smaller one, instantly reopened right within Olaf''s court hall.


    There, Olaf, his ravishing wife and barbaric wastrel of a son, all awaited.


    "Greetings, lady and gentlemen, now let''s begin the game of¡ªhow the hell do I survive this shit?" Kilian merrily said, and vanished to reappear on Olaf''s viscount seat.

 23 The Husband Sells the Son, the Wife Sells the Husband Part 1, R-18

    "DAD!" Olaf exclaimed and threw himself at Kilian''s feet! "My father, my grandfather, my ancestor, please spare me!" As the startling words left the viscount''s lips, tears drenched his reddening eyes, and he grabbed Kilian''s leg, sobbing against it!


    *BAM*


    With a kick, Kilian sent him rolling on the ground. Silence then dropped on the scene. To say nothing of Kilian, even Olaf''s wife and child had not expected that Olaf would be so shameless as to directly hail Kilian as his ancestor and beseech salvation. A minute had yet to pass since his arrival!


    "Don''t be rude," Kilian ordered with a smirk that only made Olaf''s wife and son warier. But undisturbed, Olaf rolled back toward Kilian''s seat, and broke into a profusion of kowtows, smacking his head on the ground with ardent zeal painting a vivid picture of his desire to live.


    "Master, just tell me what you want; all I have is yours! Wealth? Take it! House? Take it! Land? Take it, I don''t care! I will be your dog, your puppy, your cat, whatever you want! I will peddle my son''s rear, hell, I will even peddle my rear if that''s your command! Just let me live!" Olaf wept, yet still smacked his now bleeding forehead on the ground.


    Within the aristocracy, there was no such thing as "ugliness." In terms of looks, men and women ranged from above-average to breathtaking. Of course, they couldn''t compare to the likes of fehls.


    With a square jaw, straight-edged nose, a finely trimmed beard, and green eyes, Olaf undoubtedly was a handsome man. Only the extravagant, curled mane of blond hairs that trailed below his calves gave him that bit of eccentric look. None would have expected that the muscular, 1.86 meters tall man would possess this level of dignity. Kilian, however, remained unimpressed.


    The better the life, the harder it was to part with it. Olaf became the viscount of Ostria at the age of 25 and ruled for 31 years. Yet, he barely looked older than 40. The likes of stress and anxiety left no trace on his rosy cheeks. Clearly, the man lived a splendid life and looked forward to the years to come.


    As the saying went, "where there''s life, there''s hope." And indeed, Kilian had perfectly assessed Olaf''s thoughts. As far as he was concerned, concepts of honorable death existed only to cheat men into self-destruction. So long as he could escape this calamity, there was room for maneuver.


    Alas, Olaf wasn''t the only one eager for a way out. While his son floundered in consternation, his wife - Ophelia - a breathtaking beauty of sky-blue hair and eyes, knelt before Kilian. DNA modifications and melanin enhancement had already reached the point where noble families could not only pick their children''s looks -- but give them hair and eye colors unavailable to commoners.


    However, while they had no qualms in beautifying their looks, high-ranking nobles typically didn''t meddle with their eye or hair color. The reason? Ancestry. Conformity to the ancestors'' looks was of critical importance to Arcadia''s aristocracy. Only lesser nobles turned to the "bloodline frauds," as the high-ranking called them, to create unique daughters and sons for better marriage prospects.


    Ophelia was the textbook example of the callous gold digger. At the age of 19, she seduced the then married viscount, helped him murder his first wife, and replaced her as viscountess¡ªall for the sake of glory, splendor, wealth and rank. 11 years later, she still remained childless, but since Olaf already had an heir and a few bastards here and there, he didn''t care for it.


    "Your lordship, on behalf of the citizens of Ostria, I thank you!" Ophelia exclaimed as she bent in a kowtow. Her zip back bodycon tightly hugged her luscious curves, outlining her perky butt that she purposely stuck out to bring forth Kilian''s lust. His lips curled into a smile, and he trailed his hazel eyes on the noblewoman''s backside.


    "Oh? Now now, why would you say that?" Kilian played the fool while his eyes ogled Ophelia''s form with the flaring glint of lechery. Believing her body having the intended effect, Ophelia pursued.


    "Your lordship, don''t be cheated by his submissive appearance. For decades, this monster of a man terrorized the population of Ostria, nobles and commoners alike, committing all manners of vile deeds! He even murdered his wife to force me into marrying him!" Ophelia sobbed with warm, dripping tears. Kilian now wondered if acting classes weren''t secret requirements of an aristocrat''s education.


    Meanwhile, Olaf''s son''s eyes widened in disbelief. Olaf, however, rose in outrage!


    "Deceitful slut, how dare you?!" He snarled with his wobbling right index aimed at his sobbing wife. "Master, don''t trust the harlot, she''s full of lies! Less than 24 hours ago, she had an iniquitous maid skinned alive for mistakenly dropping her jewelry! How is that a human being?! If not for her honeyed words, how could I kill my wife?! Master, don''t let her big butt and rack trick you! Remain lucid!" Olaf pleaded with his clasped hands swaying back and forth.


    "What an amusing couple," Kilian thought while his eyes still trailed on Ophelia''s curves. Despair filled Olaf. If he''d known this walking plague was that easily swayed, he would have snatched, stripped and bundled several noblewomen to entertain him! Alas, it was far too late!


    Trusting that her charms held Kilian in their sway, Ophelia slightly raised her head, giving him a glimpse into her cleavage.


    "Your lordship, I will not try to defend myself against these groundless accusations. I can only hope that you will see through the beast''s lies and give the people of Ostria the justice they deserve. If only for their sake, I don''t mind giving up my life!" The words flowed from Ophelia''s red, luscious lips like poetry.


    "Moved," Kilian beckoned for Ophelia to stand up and walk toward him. She did just that, standing up and striding toward Kilian with her hands clasped and her shoulders slumped in a false show of modesty.


    Giving her an approving nod, Kilian motioned for Ophelia to turn. At first, she feigned resistance, then helplessness, and finally turned to give him a full view of her back. Without a word, Kilian stretched out his hand toward Ophelia''s zipper and in a slow, tantalizing motion, unzipped her dress.


    "Your lordship¡­" Ophelia purred like a mellow kitten yet still swayed her backside before Kilian. Olaf couldn''t believe his eyes and prepared a protest, but reasoning that such a move would undoubtedly end his life, he abstained and dropped back on his knees.


    "The poisoned honeypot gets us all," Olaf lamented. Meanwhile, Kilian slipped his hand into Ophelia''s dropping dress, running it across her plump ass cheeks to cop a feel.


    "Anh...your lordship...you can''t¡­" Ophelia purred, but ignoring her, Kilian carried on, sliding his hand below her butt to trail her moistening pussy lips. Evidently, the thought of having another man undress and toy with her body before her kneeling husband badly aroused the depraved lady. But even as her loins stirred, Ophelia resisted the urge to rub herself on Kilian''s fingers.


    Moving between Ophelia''s labia and clit, Kilian teased the outer part of her cunt till her clit stood erect, her suppressed moans proudly echoed, and her juices filled his hand. He then slipped his middle finger into Ophelia''s cunt, fingering her at a first slow, then increasingly rapid pace.


    "Ahh...ahhh...ahhh!" Failing to maintain her chaste exterior, Ophelia moaned in delight, grating Olaf''s ears with a pitch that left him red with shame.

 24 The Husband Sells the Son, the Wife Sells the Husband Part 2, R-18

    In Klaus'' book of the enterprising nobleman, sexual skills didn''t lose out to battle skills. Therefore, Klaus ensured Kilian would learn all there was to from his devoted wife¡ªmother of Kilian''s younger half-brother, Florens von Karsten. That woman aside, across the seven months of licentious training, Klaus provided several noble girls and women for Kilian to practice on, thereby giving him a solid foundation in the sexual arts.


    Needless to say, although Kilian never bothered remembering their names, he mastered the craft. A woman like Ophelia, who spent one-third of her life with a self-serving man such as Olaf, couldn''t resist him. And as the noblewoman writhed on his fingertips, trembling every time he found, hit and teased a sweet spot, Kilian couldn''t help but acknowledge the wisdom of his father''s words. Without artifices, he held her in his thrall.


    "Oooh...ohhh...ohhh!" Writhing in ecstasy, Ophelia wrapped her arms around her breasts, tilted her head back and let out increasingly louder groans as she surrendered to her impending orgasm. But there, Kilian stopped, slowly sliding his finger out of the lady''s snatch.


    "Mhmm...your lordship¡­how could you..." Ophelia whimpered in protest, forgetting all decorum. With a subtle hand wave, Kilian made her turn 180, forcing her lust-glazed eyes to lock on the bulge in his pants¡ªshe instantly gulped.


    Kilian''s eyes went between his bulge and Ophelia''s dripping cunt, but though he never spoke one word, when he again stroked her labia, Ophelia could guess the intent behind his move. Dropping on her knees, she unbuckled and unzipped Kilian''s pants, freeing his half-erect cock from the confines of his pants.


    Even flaccid, the imposing member spoke tantalizing tales of its prowesses. But it wasn''t so much the length that gripped Ophelia''s attention. After all, the nobility had long since solved that problem, with the average nobleman having an erect cock of 17.7 cm. No, from Kilian''s veiny shaft, Ophelia felt an almost imperceptible scent that compelled her mortal mind into worship¡ªan aftereffect of Ashera''s Mark.


    Holding the base of Kilian''s cock, Ophelia gave the meat-rod several gentle pumps before gliding her tongue across its pulsing veins. From bottom to top, and from top to bottom, Ophelia trailed her tongue across Kilian''s cock, licking sides and underside before pushing his meat-rod down her throat.


    With that one move, Kilian now stood fully erect and, unbeknown to Ophelia, Ashera''s mark burned in a crimson red. Not wasting any more time, Ophelia stood up and, while still holding Kilian''s cock with her left hand, straddled him. Aligning the 20 cm of meat-rod with her cunt, Ophelia directly impaled herself on top of it, letting the profane rod fill her in its entirety.


    "Aanh¡­" Ophelia''s walls stretched to fit Kilian''s rod, her lips parted in a low groan, and she lowered her hands on his shoulders¡ªfirmly holding him. Not staying idle, Kilian grabbed the noblewoman''s ass cheeks to drive her up and down his shaft in a slow-paced, torturous bliss. But unlike with Jezebel, though he definitely enjoyed Ophelia''s fold, Kilian felt no rush, no bit of fehl delight. The high wasn''t there¡ªyet. Ophelia, however, was having the time of her life, and without any false constraints, clung onto Kilian''s neck to pump his cock harder and faster within her.


    The nefarious energies of Ashera''s Mark gushed forth, making Ophelia break through barriers upon barriers of delight, and abandon herself to the heaven she now smacked her ass on. Olaf and his dumbfounded wastrel of a son watched in awe as Ophelia''s wiggling ass bounced on Kilian''s cock. The relentless sounds of her ass cheeks kissing his hefty balls put them both in quite the uncomfortable position.


    "Getting a hardon from your faithless wife smacking her rump on the conqueror''s cock...good thing I''m thick-skinned!" Olaf silently comforted himself. Meanwhile, the squelching and smacking sounds of Ophelia''s cunt devouring Kilian''s rod carried on.


    "Ahh...ahhh...ahh!" By now, Opehlia''s tongue lolled out, her eyes rolled back, and she neared her third orgasm. With a smile, Kilian slid his hands up to Ophelia''s waist, and while she still impaled herself on his rod, he stood up, holding her mid-air.


    Ophelia''s legs gave out, making her bend in a perpendicular angle with respect to Kilian. But strangely, though she had nothing to support her, an invisible wall seemed to flawlessly maintain her in that position. It didn''t take a genius to realize that Kilian used his arcane gifts to play tricks.


    Ready to end the lady''s plight, Kilian drove his cock in and out, hammering Ophelia at full speed. The sudden change sent her into another orgasm, and it was almost as if the world around her changed, as if a tide submerged her, dragging her into new layers of heaven.


    "Ohhh...more...I can''t...oooohh!!!" The intensity had reached something Ophelia''s mortal mind couldn''t endure, and as she broke into successions of orgasms, her mind neared collapse. But at that time, Kilian''s cock tensed, his lips curved into a fiendish grin, and with a low growl, he sheathed himself in the quivering Ophelia, letting his profane spunk paint her walls white.


    Red light surged from his rod, spreading throughout Ophelia''s body before latching onto her soul. Pulling out, Kilian let go of Ophelia, and she dropped onto the ground, still cum-dazed. The fehl forces corrupting her kicked in, and while the warmth of Kilian''s spunk still filled her, Ophelia''s eyes went bloodshot.


    The fehl forces in that cumshot, forces that now ingrained themselves in her body and soul, triggered mutations. Ophelia morphed, her blue hair turned dark grey, her eyes, crimson. The white of her sclera vanished under the crimson hue''s spread, and her pupils went from round to slitted.


    "AAAAAAAAARGH!" Sensing her changes, Ophelia screamed in horror, but she wasn''t the only one. Olaf and his son too screamed in fright! What was this? The worst nightmare of all noble houses: the fehl taint!


    Olaf didn''t want to know why the dra didn''t flow in reverse. He didn''t want to know why her ears elongated into fox ears, or why her changes showed no sign of stopping. No, terror-stricken, Olaf stood up, seeking a sword, a blade, anything to behead the creature on the spot! His dread of the fehl implications outpaced his fear of Kilian!


    Kilian waved his hand, and against his best judgment, Olaf knelt back on the ground. Two large, dark-grey fox tails sprouted from Ophelia''s back, her nails turned into claws, and her skin too turned dark grey. Ophelia leaped back on her feet, sweeping the father and son pair with bared fangs.


    "Word is that the dark-grey fox represents the evilest version of the feline''s willy nature. I suppose such a mutation befits you," Kilian jested, and again, he felt the rush. The fehl high spread within his mind, carrying it through worlds of pure delight.


    With a raspy bark, Ophelia pounced on Olaf, dark purple flames burst from and coated her claws, claws she aimed at her husband''s throat. But when the move neared him, Kilian snapped his fingers, and as if regaining her senses, Ophelia aborted the assault, backflipped to land beside Kilian, and kowtowed in submission.


    Olaf soiled his pants.


    "According to Jezebel, I just need to seed you again to have you regain your senses. But...I can''t be bothered. You look and sound so much better without the heaps of shit pouring out from your lips. We ought to keep you this way, don''t we?" Kilian rhetorically asked as he half-knelt and stroked Ophelia''s hair.


    Only now did Olaf realize that this mutation was nothing more than Kilian''s work.


    "I''m not gonna survive this after all...right?" He whispered with a face twisted by helplessness. The words failed to escape Kilian, who turned to face Olaf.


    "Oh but you will. I just need you to kill your son and adopt me as your twilight child. The official story will be that your son rebelled, killed your wife, and after executing him, out of grief you sought a commoner gifted in the arcane arts and took him as your twilight child," Kilian stated with a gentle smile while still stroking Ophelia''s hair. Olaf''s eyes widened in disbelief.


    In Arcadia, old noblemen had the habits of adopting talented children and raising them as their last child, the one that''d remain by their side in their waning years: the twilight child. Typically, they were handpicked from young orphan boys or girls; destitute nobles or commoners gifted in the arcane.


    And although their age usually ranged between five and seven, for noblemen to adopt teenagers - especially the arcane gifted - wasn''t unheard of. Olaf didn''t care for the reasons behind Kilian''s move. The road to life stood before him, fueling him with new waves of resolve.


    Standing up, the viscount turned toward his petrified son who met his murderous gaze with incredulity.


    "Father, you can''t possibly do this to me...ri..." The youth had not finished his words that Olaf unleashed his 125 units of dra and whispered:


    "It''s either you or us."


    He then rammed his fists into his son''s heart, killing him in one blow!


    But in the moment he struck, blood gushed from Olaf''s chest, mingling with his son''s as a fist, his son''s fist, tore through his chest. Instantly, Olaf realized the ploy, and his eyes widened in disbelief.


    "I thought...you...said¡­" He stammered. The sensation of his life force slipping through the wound twisted his gaze with fright and sorrow. Yet, his brain remained lucid enough to realize that Kilian controlled and empowered his feeble son to deal him a lethal blow.


    With a smirk, Kilian rested his chin on Olaf''s left shoulder, and whispered in his ear:


    "Oh but you''ll live. As a flesh puppet bound to my will. You see, for the likes of you, I can''t be bothered to waste one of my spiders. After extracting all the knowledge you possess, I will turn you into my very first guinea pig and restructure your brain, your heart, your everything to ensure you live for another 100 years. Congratulations, Olaf von Verden."


    The words brought Olaf no comfort. But as he wept for one last time, the scenery around him changed, and he now stood before Kilian''s Experience Refiner. Kilian tossed him right in. In less than a minute, the Experience Refiner devoured the entirety of Olaf''s accumulated knowledge and experiences¡ªtransferring them to Kilian.


    With the knowledge''s drain, Olaf turned into a vegetable. His last lucid thoughts went to the riches he left behind; he died right afterward.


    Exiting the Hellforge, Kilian lowered the two bodies on the ground, drew the Ouroboros Sigil on Olaf''s chest and fueled it with his blood¡ªallowing Olaf''s soul to enjoy damnation eternal.

 25 Because I鈥檓 Curious

    Standing up, Kilian let his gaze drift between Olaf and his fallen son. Though the 18 years old heir to the viscount''s estate carried his own lot of nefarious deeds, those didn''t hold much weight in his gruesome demise. And while Kilian''s cold eyes hovered between fallen father and son, in a twister of red winds, Jezebel appeared at his left.


    "I''m curious. Since you plan to integrate the Imperial Academy with Olaf''s sponsorship and wealth, his son naturally had to die. Otherwise, many would question why the father ignores the arcane-gifted heir to sponsor an outsider. But you could have just killed him. Defenestration, public execution, there were so many ways to handle this. Why did you choose to have the father murder the son?" Jezebel inquired while holding her chin in confusion.


    From the moment Kilian stepped into the room, the father and son pair were doomed to destruction. In one way or another, Kilian would enslave Olaf, and get rid of his son. However, he didn''t have to do so in such a theatrical manner.


    It was almost as if he sought a laugh.


    Did the taint affect him? Did the fehl daemon trapped within his mark influence him? Or was his ruthlessness just that deep? But as Jezebel''s words echoed, no ripples flashed on Kilian''s face. Tilting his head to the left, he closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath.


    "I was just curious," Kilian stated with his eyes shut. "For the sake of survival, would the father kill the son? Would the son kill the father? If survival isn''t enough, what about power? I am curious. Some say that no matter how evil, a tiger will not eat its own cub. That of all vices, being unfilial is the worst. What then does it take to make a man turn on his progeny? To make a son smite his father?


    What truly are the basis and worth of kinship? I am curious," Kilian stated, opened his eyes, and lifted Olaf''s corpse to lay him on his viscount seat.


    "My foster father was a man of iron will and exceptional moral integrity. The type that''d rather die than suffer humiliation. But for my mother''s sake, he endured. My mother wasn''t much different, so for my father, she also endured. The likes of them don''t seem to fit the reality of this world. Why, why couldn''t they be more selfish? If any one of them had one-tenth of Olaf''s selfishness, they''d still be alive. Instead, their deaths make the lives of factory-farmed pigs look like a comedy show." As the words left his lips, Kilian''s third eye opened. But instead of the usual crimson, it now took a dark-grey shade.


    His nails turned into claws and he got to work, using his fleshcrafting abilities to tear apart and remake Olaf from scratch.


    Men didn''t need a soul to live. Emotions, desires, existence, none had anything to do with the soul. The soul departed when the body perished, but the body didn''t perish because the soul departed. Arcane scholars studied the topic for millennia and came to the conclusion that besides acting as storage bags for certain spiritual forces, souls didn''t have much use. For example, Kilian''s daemon was trapped within his soul.


    In his deadpan words, Jezebel felt a silent rage and sorrow suppressed under a mountain of nightmares. In recent days, she came to realize that Kilian primarily derived his fehl high from vindictiveness. All fehls possessed a primary source for the high, typically linked to hedonism and decadence. Sex alone rarely fit the bill.


    Jezebel, for example, got hers from sadistic oppression. Ashera, from corruption. Mazdan, Jezebel''s half-brother, from domination, and so on. But clearly, Kilian derived his from vindictiveness, a trait Jezebel had never seen till now. And while the primary source could change over time, it rarely did.


    "I really wonder who made you the way you are? But beware, the daemon inside of you is probably a Fehl Noble. Give him an opportunity and he will turn the tables, making you prisoner instead of host," Jezebel squatted beside Kilian and cautioned with utmost seriousness.


    "Oh don''t worry, vindictiveness cannot cloud my mind. Nothing human can," Kilian stated as if reading through Jezebel''s thoughts. By now he''d finished his modifications of Olaf''s organ systems and readied to reassemble him.


    "Oh? What about me?" Resting her cheek in her palm, Jezebel stared into the corner of Kilian''s eye, nailing him with her amethyst hues. Her words seemed laced in a mixture of playfulness and an inquisitive tone.


    Kilian paused his work, turned to face Jezebel, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.


    "You''re not human," he stated with a lopsided smirk, then returned to work. Having not expected such a response, Jezebel blinked in confusion. When she felt she got to understand Kilian better, he''d subvert her cognition¡ªalmost as if purposely teasing her. Not that she minded. Getting teased by this poised lunatic held an irresistible appeal.


    "If you keep doing things like this, I might really fall for you."


    "My heart is an abyss, with no shortage of space. It can accommodate many. If you dare dive in, I dare receive you. But do you?"


    "Why wouldn''t I?"


    As Jezebel challenged Kilian with her calm words, tension surged within the atmosphere. By now, he''d finished the remodeling, and used his dra and flesh control to erase all of Olaf''s scars. Instantly, the dark-grey shade of his third eye reverted to crimson.


    "Because once you do, burning is inevitable, and never ever will you be able to escape." At that time, Olaf''s eyes opened, and he rose from his former seat to kneel at Kilian''s left¡ªawaiting commands. However, Kilian''s hazel eyes now faced Jezebel, nailing her with an intensity that she received without flinching.


    "But I can promise you one thing," Kilian whispered while bringing his face closer to Jezebel''s, and only stopping when his nose brushed hers, "If you hurt, I must be the cause. No one else will be allowed to elicit the tiniest bit of pain from you." The words echoed with such madness that for a second, Jezebel''s eyes narrowed. But even as they did, she approached her lips toward Kilian''s.


    "Oh? But what if anyone succeeds?" She couldn''t help but ask, clearly undisturbed by the blood stench lingering in the air.


    "I will rip out their tongue to ensure they can''t beg me to end their sufferings," Kilian replied, but as Jezebel''s lips brushed his, he turned his face away from hers and stood up, "But of course, we''re not there yet."


    Feeling played the fool, Jezebel rolled her eyes and huffed her "indignation."


    "Tease¡­" She whispered.


    But at that time, the clatter of hurried footsteps echoed from beyond the court hall. With no door to block his entrance, a herculean figure barged in, sweeping the scene of gore with his incensed blue eyes. Once his gaze fell on Kilian, he stopped, frowned, and shot toward him with bared fists!


    The man was Bjorn, and right before he arrived, Jezebel made herself invisible. It hadn''t even been three hours since Kilian left him, but Bjorn now boasted a physical strength that put Lesser Templars to shame and pursued that of Core Templars. Perhaps, even he didn''t realize it yet.


    Of course, before Kilian, such strength was meaningless.


    *BAM*


    Bjorn''s fists turned against him, smashing into either side of his face. Stopped mid-air, he dropped onto the ground. But even as blood dripped from his nose and lips, his incensed gaze remained locked on Kilian.


    "Oh, you know," Kilian stated and walked toward Bjorn''s trembling form.


    "WHERE IS LUKAS?!" Bjorn bellowed, and even without sound magic, his voice thundered within the castle.

 26 "Escape"

    What happened within that court hall is a mystery. But at the end of the confrontation, Kilian defenestrated Bjorn, making him crash from 17 meters of altitude. However, while others would have ended up either dead or disabled, Bjorn dragged his mutilated body and escaped from Ostria. The invisible barrier laid by Jezebel to prevent anyone from escaping the city didn''t stop him.


    For three hours, Bjorn desperately ran, leaving behind long trails of blood that made tracking him simplicity incarnate. Still, none followed him, and in some dark forest east of Ostria, the youth collapsed. For another half hour, he bled on the cold ground, slowly heading into death. Hades'' gates readied to welcome him, but at that time, a cloaked man appeared, emerging from a blue vortex to land at Bjorn''s right.


    This man was no other than the mysterious individual, the fake slaver, behind Ostria''s calamity. As he stared at Bjorn''s dying form, his eyes contorted into a frown.


    "He reached the next stage of evolution without scientific help and used the virus to rise to another level. He''s just like her, a Mahana. And even then, his grade should be much higher. Who could have thought that in the tiny Ostria, I''d find two? How negligent..." The man whispered while Bjorn gurgled on his blood.


    With all the broken bones, punctured organs and traumas, it was a miracle that Bjorn still breathed. On the one hand, his unique constitution played a significant role, on the other hand, his thirst for survival carried him ahead. Mahanas currently were the most prized jewels of the man''s organization. Hundreds of High Emissaries were dispatched to track them down. But according to their finest calculations, Ostria would at best have one.


    Therefore, after finding Tamara and securing Olaf''s assistance in the virus'' test, the man directly left, returning only to monitor the virus'' progresses. Little did he expect that an infernal disaster awaited there. At first, he considered diving in to grab some guinea pigs but quickly dismissed the thought. Individually, the beasts might be limited to top-level Core Emissary strength, but if hundreds or thousands gathered for a united assault, he could only feed the worms.


    In frustration, the mysterious man could only take notes of the situation and wait for hypothetical changes. Fortunately, Bjorn appeared, and as he faced this bit of good news, he couldn''t help but feel a wave of elation.


    "While I do not believe in luck or fate, I must say that your appearance is quite auspicious. Boy, welcome to the Technocracy." The mysterious man stated and stretched out his right hand, causing a dark-blue cube to appear and suck Bjorn into a miniature world. There, sky-blue fog shrouded him, numbed his pain and healed his wounds. The physical ones, at least.


    ¡­


    "Is this wise?" Jezebel asked, arms wrapped around Kilian''s waist and chin on his shoulder as he made the inventory of Olaf''s wealth. Staggering results awaited him.


    "Why would it not be?" Kilian countered. From Olaf''s experiences, he''d learned all there was to regarding Ostria''s viral calamity and now knew that Tamara, Lukas'' sister, was never taken by a slaver to begin with. That being the case, her rescue task became a whole lot more complex.


    A slaver, he could directly maul. But an organization able to put up a virus capable of making super humans or monsters out of the common man? Now, that was another story. Clearly, Tamara showcased a unique constitution or traits that seized the man''s attention. Traits useful to his organization.


    To say nothing of Tamara, if only for Kilian''s own sake, finding out who, or what they were and what goal they pursued was of capital importance.


    "I am not against doing some digging. But you didn''t rig him with a nano-spider, didn''t use a tame version of Profane Allure, or even modify the structure of his brain to have him obey you. You just let him go. What makes you so sure that in the future, they won''t turn him into the harbinger of your doom?" Jezebel asked. Kilian undoubtedly wasn''t the type of man to leave loose ends. Why then did he not guarantee Bjorn''s loyalty before hurling him out of that window?


    "Before an enemy able to create a virus of that caliber, using my current spiders is no different from wild conceit. Restructuring the brain is useless if they also possess the ability. Of course they''re going to ensure the blind loyalty of their new recruits. Although we have no way to know what weight he will hold in their faction, give them a reason to doubt Bjorn, and they will make sure he can''t harm their interests.


    On the contrary, if he not only gives them no reason to doubt him, but gives them reasons to trust him, and showcases his thirst for vengeance. There is a chance, a tiny chance, that they will welcome him not as a puppet, but as a true member of their faction. After all, most rewiring methods leave the brain somewhat damaged. For minions, this is not an issue. But for future elite members? They''d think twice.


    Therefore, I can''t rig his body. Instead, I will bet on his mind," Kilian explained and closed the ledger detailing the last of Olaf''s resources.


    "His mind?"


    "Indeed. I am betting that Viktor cannot betray Alina, for the pleasure of harming Klaus."


    "Viktor? Alina? Klaus? What the hell are you talking about?" Again, Kilian''s words left Jezebel utterly confused. Bjorn may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was no fool, either. Moreover, upon waking up, his senses grew tremendously sharper. At first, he worried that the frenzied Lena had abducted "Lukas" or worse, and made his way through the slums.


    But on the road, he realized many things didn''t add up. If Lena prevailed, why did he still breathe? The feral bloodlust in her eyes left no doubt that she''d spare no one. The destruction clearly showed a heated battle, yet, no casualty to report. Even the sick bystanders escaped the tribulation. Only "Lukas" and Lena vanished. Bjorn thus concluded that "Lukas" not only won, but somehow tamed Lena.


    Where then could he be? As he sought the answers, the monstrous tide razing Ostria forced him to seek shelter in the viscount''s castle. Little did he expect he''d come across the suffocating massacre of 11,000 men. Such gruesome deaths, he''d never seen. Worse, a certain order existed in the scene, showing the work of a callous man rather than a beast. Throughout Ostria, "Lukas" aside, who possessed the strength?


    Bjorn couldn''t gauge Lena''s battle prowess. But a man able to single-handedly crush a trained army? That no longer was a man. And at that time, he started doubting his friend''s identity. If "Lukas" held such strength why did he need to hide for three days? Beset with doubt, Bjorn rushed past the gash splitting the wall into two to dive into the castle¡ªall while dreading what he''d find within.


    Seeing a dark-grey - feral - fox woman and the viscount kneeling before "Lukas," Bjorn put two and two together, realized his friend never once stood before him in those last 72 hours, and probably fed the worms.


    He now saw the cold-blooded murderer before him as another one of the leeches. Another power-hungry despot eager to throw the world into chaos.


    When Bjorn barged in with his fists bared, demanding answers he couldn''t have, Jezebel expected Kilian to either rewire him for his potential or outright kill him. Instead, he pummeled and defenestrated him.


    Jezebel didn''t doubt that the beating held a special meaning, a form of communication she couldn''t figure it out.


    "What makes you so sure that the mastermind will take notice of, and save him? He could be in another city as we speak," Jezebel pursued.


    A valid question, and while tilting his head against hers, Kilian replied:


    "It may not be him, but there will undoubtedly be someone of their faction eying the developments from the shadows. If they were inside and powerful enough, by now they would have noticed the barrier and made an overt attempt to escape.


    Since they didn''t, they''re either outside, reporting the fehl chaos to their superiors, or both. I''m using Bjorn''s life as a wager. If they''re present and overseeing the outskirts, his potential will not escape them, and they will take him back.


    If they are not, I''ve calculated that it''d take him about three hours, five minutes, and 24 seconds to kick the bucket. You can save him at the last second."


    Doing the math, Jezebel realized that only ten seconds remained.


    "You''re sure you don''t want me to go now?"


    "Not before the last second."


    "What if he can''t make it?"


    "Sucks to be him."

 27 Lord of Beasts

    Following the castle''s takeover, Kilian used the new Olaf as his intermediary to control the 4,000 remaining guards and dispatch them to gather the needed resources. But although 70% of Ostria''s resources now lay in his hands, Kilian focused on the zuri, dra shards, and natal conductors.


    Still, as he witnessed the incoming cargos from the top of the castle, Kilian couldn''t help but smirk. In terms of zuri quantity alone, Olaf impressed him. A mere viscount, and yet he possessed more than 600 kg of zuri. The entirety of Orloth didn''t have more than 700 tonnes, with the average count owning 500 kg, the average marquis, 900 kq, and the average duke, 2 tonnes.


    The King of Olroth, Erik von Draken, owned 25 tonnes. Meanwhile, Klaus, the Duke of Kars, owned 100 tonnes. Olroth''s military revolved around zuri and dra shards. Whoever could monopolize those resources could run amok within the country. If Olaf wasn''t such a wastrel, based on his zuri alone, his military forces would undoubtedly stand on another level.


    As for the rest, Kilian counted 367 low-grade Dra Shards, each with 75 dra on average, and 4,126 Natal Conductors. Those numbers remained within his expectations, and he directly got to work.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Human Fehl Mutant]


    [Age: 18]


    [Magus Rank: top-level Lesser Emissary]


    [Battle Prowess: top-level High Emissary]


    [Dra Reserves: 11,000]


    [Knowledge Points: 55,543]


    [Implants: 0]


    [Mutation: Stage II Eye of Fehl]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 3 Transmutation]


    ---


    Since Kilian automatically gained 30% kp from those he killed, following the battle, his kp count rose exponentially. And following the eye''s rise to the second level, Kilian''s Dimensional Rift ability evolved into its true form: the Eye of Distortion.


    Presently, it not only enabled him to open spatial rifts but to twist space to create Aversion Fields. Of course, at his current level, many limitations shackled him. First, he couldn''t open a rift into a place he neither visited nor could sense. Any attempt at doing so would result in random teleportation. Second, currently, he couldn''t open more than two rifts per day. Third, he couldn''t bring more than one person with him.


    As for his second ability - dark grey rather than crimson - it currently allowed Kilian to get random glimpses into the future, execute every move to perfection, and analyze the nature as well as all the flaws of a structure, battle stance, spell or ability. On the one hand, this ability would allow him to eradicate all errors from his works, on the other hand, his learning pace, battle skills, and creations would rise to brand-new heights.


    For the following hours, Kilian relentlessly worked on the production of nano-spiders, pumping his dra to go as fast as he possibly could. Yet, the completion of 2,950 nano-spiders still took him 17 hours. Added to his previous 50, he now had 3,000. Of course, a massive quantity of zuri, dra shards and natal conductors went into that work. Kilian exhausted 110 kg of zuri, 76 dra shards, and 2,950 natal conductors.


    He also created a dark-blue watch able to cast energy shields.


    Obviously, he could have carried on. But for a simple reason, he didn''t: Ostria couldn''t afford to wait any longer.


    Kilian might not care for the victims'' lives, but if he allowed Ostria to turn into a dead city, no amount of news manipulation could prevent the capital from realizing the truth. Using the mother spider in his brain to control the 3,000 spiders, Kilian brought them all out of the Hellforge. As usual, Jezebel awaited him.


    "Casualties?"


    "Since the beasts'' appearance, around 60,000 people perished, with about 3,000 fehl beasts now rampaging across Ostria. Naturally, of the slums'' 30,000 iniquitous, not a single one remains," Jezebel replied while lounging on a blue velvet tufted sofa. Thanks to a minor mirage of hers, the fehl beasts avoided the viscount''s castle, rampaging only in the city proper.


    Kilian didn''t doubt that Jezebel could quell the disturbance with a finger snap. However, exhausting her powers for such a minor task absolutely wasn''t worth it. In fact, though nigh impossible, Kilian somewhat wished she''d never have to bare her claws for his sake.


    Nodding in acknowledgment, Kilian thrice clapped, the door flew open, and Olaf dived in, directly kneeling before Kilian.


    "Lord, how may I serve you?" Following his makeover, the new Olaf believed that his existence''s highest purpose was to execute all of Kilian''s orders to the letter. Nothing else mattered.


    "Lead a detachment of 500 men to act as baits for the 1,000 beasts and lure them all toward the castle. With this watch, your spells and the soldiers'' artillery, drawing the beasts in shouldn''t be too difficult. I will handle the rest," Kilian ordered and tossed the watch toward Olaf. Receiving it, he bowed in agreement.


    "As you command, my lord!" Without delay, Olaf stood up and rushed toward the barracks, gathering his 4,000 remaining men, and handpicking the 500 most apt at completing the assigned task. Meanwhile, Jezebel waved her hand, dispelling the mirage that lured the beasts away.


    Stepping toward the sofa, Kilian sat beside her and closed his eyes.


    "Isn''t 500 too much?" Jezebel couldn''t help but ask. At the end of the day, Olaf aside, those were men destined to die. It would be a miracle if more than 10% survived. That being the case, why not reduce the numbers to a more tolerable loss? However, Kilian shook his head in disagreement.


    "Our advantage and disadvantage is that the beasts can work as groups. Though broken in smaller groups, a force of 3,000 fehl beasts is no laughing matter. With my current strength, I can''t just charge them all by myself. But as we''ve seen in the clash with Lena, they''re prone to a reckless use of their dra.


    After uniting 1,000, we not only need enough men to act as bait but enough sacrifices to exhaust their strength and last until they reach our gates. The shield can only endure for a short time, making 500 is the right middle. Less and they won''t last long enough. But fret not, for them, death is a new beginning," Kilian cooly replied.


    Meanwhile, Olaf led the 500 soldiers into the suicide mission. Opening fire on several groups of rampaging beasts, he drew their frenzied but united attention, and used the watch to surround his forces in an energy shield as they retreated to the castle.


    The beasts'' feral roars echoed with flurries of second circle spells that raced across the air to slam into the shield. While the shield could withstand the assault of a High Emissary, quantity could sometimes overwhelm quality, and following 15 minutes of retreat, the shield collapsed¡ªbroken by a kaleidoscopic salvo of dazzling spells.


    As soon as it crumbled, 80 men followed it into oblivion, leaving the remaining 420 to rush back to the castle. But how could the beasts allow them to? Although they''d exhausted their dra, the 1,000 beasts'' physical strength made a mockery of those trained soldiers, and by the time they reached the castle walls, less than 10 remained.


    The rest left a bloody trail on the road.


    Kilian stood on top of the castle walls with 1,000 nano-spiders swirling around his form. Using the height to his advantage, he fired the spiders from 50 meters of altitude, turning them into flaming projectiles that nailed each and every one of the fehl beasts.


    Without delay, Kilian used the mother spider to release legions of nanobots within the beasts'' neural systems, and take control of them all. He then led the 1,000 creatures in an explosive counterattack that ended with him taming the entirety of Ostria''s 3,000 fehl beasts.

 28 Grand Master of the Blood Rose

    With the last beast''s surrender, peace returned to Ostria. Kilian had his soldiers gather the corpses and remains of the deceased and store them in the castle''s undergrounds. Of the 60,000 victims, only 200 were nobility. The rest managed to survive beneath the comfort of their massive walls. Half of Ostria''s population decimated in less than 24 hours. Once they emerged from seclusion, the magnitude of the slaughter left even the most aloof of nobles quivering in fright.


    At first, many wondered how the city prevailed over the seemingly invincible insurgents. News then passed that a mysterious man managed to take control of the fehl beasts and tame them to the last. Now, they took residence within the viscount''s castle, with their "monster lord" serving as the true power and shadow master of Ostria.


    With 3,000 fehl beasts at his command, Kilian took absolute control of the city, placing his "men" in key positions to maintain control over the city''s information channels and resources. At the same time, Kilian had the 3,500 remaining soldiers, and the 42 golems at Olaf''s disposal, destroy the slums to prepare it for the Celestial Garden project.


    Meanwhile, in the comfort of Olaf''s study, Jezebel posed for Kilian. She lounged on the sofa, resting her cheek in her right palm while his brush moved in swift yet meticulous arcs¡ªpainting a flawless picture of her divine beauty. But as she watched the passionate focus within Kilian''s eyes, Jezebel couldn''t stop her smile from growing brighter.


    To make this perfect representation of Jezebel, Kilian infused his every stroke with dra and guided his hand with the Eye of Revelation.


    "The average net worth of a count is 5,000 qraftas. Yet that Olaf hoarded more than 7,000. In the arts of fraud and embezzlement, I''m afraid that throughout Arcadia, not many can contend with him," Jezebel jested while Kilian added the finishing touch of the painting.


    "But now that you not only have his wealth and resources at your disposal, are you still going through the original plan?" She asked.


    "But of course. Ostria has just experienced the darkest moment of its history. The whales are still waiting for me to provide them with entertainment. How can I disappoint them? More than a source of revenue, the Celestial Garden is my gate to information and remote control of Olroth''s various forces.


    Once we open Ostria''s gates and spread the news of the Celestial Garden, nobles of nearby towns and cities will undoubtedly make the trip to experiment the fairy tale. If our advertisment campaign is efficient enough, reaching the entirety of Orloth is quite feasible.


    Who knows, we might even cater to royalty," Kilian stated, and lowered his brush to appraise his work. Vanishing in a crimson haze, Jezebel reappeared on Kilian''s thigh, appraising the painting alongside him. Startled by the enrapturing sight, her eyes widened, and she blinked in disbelief.


    "Impressive skills. My Lothario is indeed the master of all trades. Well done! The number one painter of Orloth would be honored to call you brother." The art of using dra in drawings, paintings or sculptures was a trick reserved for magi. Commoners couldn''t have access to it, and therefore could never compare to those magi that took the arts as their hobby.


    But even among arcane-gifted artists, Kilian''s representation of Jezebel would appear as a marvel. The strokes were so lifelike that the onlookers would find themselves drawn into the painting and experiencing the scene through Kilian''s eyes and senses.


    "My skills are ordinary. It''s my feelings that held the brush," Kilian whispered, and kissed the right corner of Jezebel''s lips. But having grown accustomed to his teasing, Jezebel merely lowered her temple onto his.


    "By the way, the number one painter of Orltoh calls me son." Taken aback by the statement, Jezebel arched her eyebrow and turned to face Kilian.


    "Klaus von Karsten is your father?" She asked.


    Jezebel was on a leisure trip within the Wailing Sea when Ashera made her part of the contract, and summoned her to assist Kilian. She''d only received brief information and knew nothing of his past circumstances. However, her knowledge of Arcadia''s various powers would lose to none.


    "Indeed. I suppose it''s time we discuss the in-laws," Kilian leisurely replied.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, within the Imperial City, an unprecedented event occurred. Following a one vs. one battle, under the gaze of the emperor, the grand masters, the various kings, princes and dukes, Klaus von Karsten crushed the Grand Master of the order of the Blood Rose, and took over his seat.


    For the first time in 3,000 years, a non-citizen of the Imperial City took over a Grand Master seat. Although the Blood Rose ranked among the lower four orders, its strength transcended that of the various kingdoms.


    In truth, the Seven Grand Orders were military forces and monitoring devices at the service of the von Skoll emperors. The order of the Blood Rose oversaw the Kingdom of Orloth and ensured its obedience to the empire. And while the seat lay in Ravaria, Orloth''s capital, the grand master always came from the top-level Archons of the Imperial City.


    None expected that Klaus, who''d barely turned 42, already possessed the strength to crush a top-level Archon! With this growth pace, surpassing the top three grand masters was just a matter of time. And perhaps one day, even the emperor wouldn''t be his match!


    But though many held the same thought, none dared voice it. Drenched in the blood of his predecessor, Klaus crossed the stadium''s 300 stairs to kneel before the emperor. The 13th Emperor of Arcadia, as he held the jeweled broadsword destined to Klaus, Niklas von Skoll appeared as a stern man in his early thirties.


    But naturally, in Arcadia''s arcane circles, physical traits rarely mirrored true age. 160 years old, with broad shoulders and an imposing frame, Niklas stood at 1.87 meters, about the same as Klaus'', with short black curls and a massive beard hanging below his chest.


    His amber-colored eyes stared into Klaus'' cold blue hues with an intensity that made many wonder if the Duke of Kars would live to enjoy the honors of his new function. Though just and impartial in all matters, throughout his 50 years of rule, Niklas von Skoll made one thing clear: he had zero tolerance for threats or insubordination.


    Ancient noble houses were wiped out for offending his sovereign dignity. And as the strongest of Arcadia''s nine Exarchs, none could oppose him¡ªyet. All believed that since Klaus showed his potential, his untimely death was inevitable. Still, here he was, alive and thriving.


    But as many presumed that Klaus finally stepped over the threshold Niklas couldn''t tolerate, the emperor lowered the jeweled sword into his hand and declared:


    "Arcadia''s ancestral laws decree that only the seven strongest magi under the age of 300 may hold the office of Grand Master. Klaus von Karsten, today, before the eyes of Arcadia''s elite, you''ve again proven that across three generations, you know no rival.


    It is our privilege to bestow upon you the nine-jeweled sword and name you, the 32nd Grand Master of the Blood Rose. We hope that from this day onward, you shall wield this sword in defense of this land, in defense of its people, of the crown, and in opposition to all abominations threatening the rightful sovereignty of our holy race.


    Rise, Grand Master, and may you honor this office till your dying breath!" Niklas proclaimed as Klaus received the sword. On the scene, the top three Grand Masters and Klaus aside, there wasn''t one man that didn''t gawk in disbelief.


    But even as many of his peers debated the true nature of his relationship with the emperor, Klaus clenched his hands around the blade, drenching it in his blood - like the rites demanded - and while his blood rained on the ground, he replied:


    "I hereby make the solemn vow to cleanse the Wailing Sea, entomb the Undying Horde, exterminate the Chiropteran Dynasty, and wield this sword in the defense of our holy race!" Klaus made the ancestral pledge and rose from the ground.


    For a second, Klaus and Niklas maintained eye contact, but in that mere second, countless emotions intertwined. Niklas turned heels and in a dazzling beam of light, vanished from the scene.


    Klaus didn''t linger. Headed by Wilfried, his retinue welcomed and led him into a flying vessel that took them all back to Kars.

 29 Past Mischief

    "Impossible. Klaus can''t possibly be the son of Niklas," Jezebel categorically denied Kilian''s motion. After learning of his past experiences, she finally understood why he turned into such an oddity. But though she''d often agree with his reasoning, on this one topic, she wouldn''t.


    "Why not? Niklas von Skoll is no gentleman. The terror of his early reign still rumbles in the mind of the aristocracy. A man like him would never tolerate a Klaus to exist under his imperial rule. Yet, he''s been watching him incessantly grow for decades.


    There are only two logical explanations. Klaus is either his blood or someone he can guarantee will never harm him. You dare bet on the latter?" Kilian countered. Although this assumption was nothing more than an educated guess, many across Arcadia were starting to form the same thought.


    The callousness of Niklas made Ivan the Terrible look like an altar boy. 50 years ago, while he still was Crown Prince of Arcadia and Grand Master of the Divine Glory, claiming that all land rightfully belonged to the human race, Niklas led an unprecedented war against the eldar tribes east of Arcadia, slaughtering more than 1.5 million eldars in the name of "the holy race."


    The Seven Grand Masters all possessed the unique right to wage wars against non-humans, without needing the consent of the emperor. But rarely would any ever use it. In fact, across the Arcadian Empire''s 3,000 years of history, there weren''t more than eight such occurrences.


    Although humans somewhat distrusted the eldars, the two sides rarely engaged in conflicts. Better, in the early stages of the empire, when the human race''s arcane arts and technological level stood at a primitive stage, the eldars provided great help. Therefore, even after the empire surpassed them, the past emperors always tolerated the eldars'' existence.


    Niklas didn''t. On the one hand, he used the eldars'' genocide to petrify the nobility, on the other hand, he turned the eldars into massive dra sources by crystalizing their blood, and robbed all their ancient treasures. Following the massacre, the previous emperor abdicated and vanished from Arcadia''s political scene. How could such a man tolerate Klaus?


    "Niklas is possessive, callous and unforgiving. Let''s assume for one second that Klaus is his bastard son. Niklas would take the mother and child back to the Imperial City, regardless of who the husband might be. Never, ever, would he let a woman he touched remain beyond his reach. As for having his flesh and blood raised by another man? That''s simply impossible," Jezebel shook her head in disapproval. But in her words, Kilian sensed a familiarity he found quite puzzling.


    "You seem to have a thorough understanding of the emperor," Kilian remarked in an inexpressive tone. But when his words echoed, Jezebel arched an eyebrow, placed her arm on his shoulder, and whispered, "Is that jealousy I hear?"


    Alas, Kilian''s following words crushed all her expectations.


    "I am your bonded partner and you''re currently sitting on my lap. It''s already great that I don''t gloat, what need do I have for jealousy?" He candidly replied. Jezebel rolled her eyes, wondering why she asked in the first place.


    "140 years ago, I used to shove dildos down his ass," Jezebel replied with a shrug. This time, Kilian couldn''t help but blink in disbelief.


    "For real?"


    "I can''t bear to deceive my Lothario."


    "He''s the Emperor of Arcadia, sovereign ruler of five billion, leader of the human race, and you did what?" Kilian couldn''t believe his ears. But seeing Jezebel sigh in proud reminiscence, he had no other choice but to accept her words.


    "I suppose you can say that a lot of his current personality stems from my teachings. Maybe I should have gone easier on him. But he was way too conceited," Jezebel pursued. But in her words, Kilian couldn''t help but feel that there was more to the story than she let on.


    Not that it mattered.


    "By the way, it is well known that the Duke of Kars created his own Arcane Bloodline after becoming an Archon. Another reason why he can''t possibly be von Skoll progeny," Jezebel added. But then again, even she had to admit that things didn''t add up.


    ¡­


    In the meantime, Klaus had returned to his castle, now sitting in his study. Wilfried stood at his right with confusion written all over his face.


    "Your grace, several things leave me perplexed, and I hope you may enlighten me," Wilfried bowed and requested in a polite tone. Hearing this, Klaus lifted his cold blue eyes from the book he currently browsed, shifting his attention to Wilfried.


    "You rarely ask for explanations. Fine. Ask and I will answer if I feel like it," Klaus cooly replied. After another polite bow, Wilfried pursued, "Three months ago, following the execution of the young lord, your grace suddenly lost 70% of your powers, dropping from mid-level Archon to low-level Archon. Although I can''t guess the truth, I infer it has something to do with the young lord.


    By any chance, did your grace play tricks to allow him to escape his fate? And if so, why?" Wilfried inquired. Time flowed differently depending on the plane of existence; therefore, on Arcadia, it''d already been two months since Kilian''s death.


    Klaus'' ambitions for Kilian had always been a mystery. However, one thing was clear, the duke intended to raise his own Sword of Damocles. There were many ways to raise or take Kilian back, but Klaus picked the one that ensured a lifetime of enmity.


    Wilfried didn''t doubt that he did it on purpose and, at first, he didn''t care much for it. But since that nephew received the taint, all plans should have gone to the gutter. Why then would Klaus still assist him?


    "Good question. I suppose that the second one is why my powers recovered so quickly?" Klaus asked with his lips curled in a smirk. Indeed, he was right. Typically, even for Klaus, recovering from such a loss should take half a decade. But in less than two months, he not only recovered but rose to another level. If Wilfried didn''t know him better, he''d believe Klaus consorted with some high-ranking fehl creatures.


    "I can''t hide anything from your grace," Wilfried replied.


    "Very well, I can give you a partial answer. Although Kilian''s mutation was never part of my plans, some reflection allowed me to determine its nature: the Eye of Fehl.


    According to ancient records, the Eye of Fehl possesses seven forms, with many sub-applications. The first form, the Eye of Distortion, allows its user to twist and manipulate the fabrics of space. Knowing that the Eye would seek self-preservation, I used the Baptism of Fire as a cover to fuel it with my powers¡ªgiving it enough energy to help Kilian escape true death and the reincarnation cycle. Of course, whether he can successfully return still depends on him," Klaus casually explained, making Wilfried gawk in disbelief.


    "But he...wants your life...I''m confused. Now more than ever, I don''t see how his growth can possibly benefit house von Karsten," Wilfried mumbled, but for a second, he could swear he saw the glint of bitterness flash within Klaus'' eyes.


    "Throughout Arcadia, none can take my life."

 30 Ostrias Transformation Part 1

    While news of Klaus'' ascension as the new Grand Master of the Blood Rose, and de facto overlord of Orloth, spread through the global communication networks, Kilian transformed Ostria. With 55,543 kp at his disposal, a new world of possibilities opened to him.


    First, Kilian stepped into the Hellforge and browsed through the Miscellaneous Item List to check the cost of a specific blueprint:


    ---


    [Lv. 2 Cloning Coffin: 3,200 kp]


    ---


    From the Compendium of Technology, Kilian already learned the process of creating an artificial star. But without the resources, the knowledge had no use. First, he needed to create an appropriate space. Second, a Nebula Generator. Third, a Star Condenser.


    The resources for a lab able to host a miniature nebula and an artificial star were dreadful enough, but in Arcadia, still remained within the scope of what money could buy. However, for the Nebula Generator and Star Condenser, only the Hellforge could provide the parts. Outside, Kilian wouldn''t even know where to look.


    But even after obtaining them, with Kilian alone, the production process would undoubtedly stretch across decades, perhaps even centuries. How was that viable? Beyond that, many creations would require his personal leadership and rob him of time he didn''t possess.


    The news of Klaus'' success had already reached him. And now more than ever, Kilian realized that toppling the Duke of Kars was no mean feat. On the list of Arcadia''s 97 Archons, Klaus now ranked first. How did he become so strong, so soon, Kilian didn''t know. But undoubtedly, he wouldn''t stop there. Time was of the essence. And with clones, Kilian could save a tremendous amount of time.


    The Hellforge priced lv. 1 miscellaneous item blueprints in the hundreds of kp, lv. 2 items in the thousands, and lv. 3 in the tens of thousands. The Lv. 2 Cloning Coffin could help Kilian produce as many clones as his resources could afford. With Olroth''s reserves, Kilian estimated that 200 clones would be no problem. Although they would possess no battle skill of their own - and were limited to 10 years of lifespan - they could channel Kilian to use his fleshcrafting and transmutation abilities.


    The clones would become the foundation that turned Ostria into the capital of the monstrous world, and without hesitation, Kilian bought the blueprint, spending another 300 for the parts. Afterward, he exhausted 50,000 kp for the Nebula Generator and Star Condenser parts.


    Following four days of relentless work, Kilian completed the Cloning Coffin and successfully produced 210 identical versions of himself. But since those were destined to become leading figures of Ostria''s development, Kilian fleshcrafted their bodies and faces to give them all unique appearances.


    The squadron then left the Hellforge, bringing alongside it the parts for the unprecedented project. Seeing 210 naked men appear out of thin air and surround Kilian''s unconscious form, Jezebel''s eyes narrowed in confusion.


    "Did he already cross that border?" She wondered, thinking that perhaps her female charms no longer were enough to satisfy Kilian.


    "Those are my arms and legs, stop indulging in wild fantasies," Kilian said as soon as his eyes opened. Although he couldn''t read Jezebel''s mind, the emotional connection they shared spoke myriads. The 210 clones found clothes fitting them, and alongside Kilian and Jezebel, descended to the castle''s underground where 30 golems worked on a new laboratory with Olaf making notes of their progress.


    Even if not for the artificial star, Kilian couldn''t keep the Hellforge as his sole base of production. A state of the art laboratory was a must. With Olaf''s estate occupying five million square meters, the underground provided both secrecy and ample space. As Construction Golems, the 30 were competent in terrakinesis, the art of manipulating earth, and could do in half a day what thousands of workers would take months or years to accomplish.


    With Kilian''s instructions driving them, they''d already completed 99% of the laboratory. Meanwhile, on former slum ground, the remaining 12 golems hastened the completion of the Celestial Garden, erecting a magnificent complex of buildings meant to house about 7,000 prostitutes and their customers. In another three days, the district would be completed.


    Although he''d expected such results, when faced with the speed at which the golems completed their work, Kilian was again forced to admit that even without viruses, all iniquitous across Arcadia faced a dreadful future. The beautiful would survive in prostitution or slavery, the less "fortunate," however, would slowly head into extinction. Even the army had no use for them.


    "It''s time to kick things into gear. Olaf, promulgate a law stripping the nobility of their household slaves, and dispatch 2,400 men split into 12 groups of 200 each to enforce it. I will have 24 Fehl Beasts lead them. Round up the slaves in the castle and give them the choice to either work in our new establishments or go on with their lives.


    Also, give them an exhaustive explanation of the terms, work benefits, training and modifications they will go through," Kilian ordered, making a new wave of puzzlement to flash in Jezebel''s eyes.


    "As you command, my lord!" Olaf exclaimed and left to gather the forces.


    "I didn''t know you altruist. What''s the plot this time?" Jezebel asked while Kilian''s clones took up office in the laboratory.


    "Besides Olaf''s house von Verden, Ostria contains 12 noble houses and around 5,000 household slaves¡ªall females. As you can guess, the household slaves typically have decent looks and, on average, whether willingly or unwillingly, have been bedded by a noble scion at least twice. Household chores and serving the lords in bed are parts of their daily lives.


    Now they will gain freedom, but what can they do with it? Even if we could ensure that their former masters won''t come back for them, how will they eat? Slaves are iniquitous. Clothes, food, basic necessities, without someone to support them, they can only become criminals. But the fact is that they don''t even have the strength to succeed in that path," Kilian explained while stepping toward the storage department containing the remains of Ostria''s fallen.


    "Now, I offer them health, wealth, transcendent beauty, and power over the men that used to rule them. You tell me, what will they choose?" Kilian coolly asked, and spun to face Jezebel who remained a step behind him.


    "Some people say that you always have a choice. Fools, the whole lot of them. You always have a choice, only if you''re prepared to lose. And, beautiful, not many are."


    The calmness with which Kilian said those words made Jezebel doubt his actual age. Perhaps the one thing that Klaus could say with confidence, was that he raised his monster of an heir to perfection.


    Several hours afterward, Olaf returned with the 5,000 household slaves and laid down the terms of Kilian''s offer. Of the 5,000, 4600 chose to take it. The rest left the castle to seek their own destiny.


    Some sought safety in marriage, but commoners of all social strata dared not marry them. Others looked for opportunities as floor workers and other iniquitous held jobs, but the managers dared not receive them. With no way out, and in fear of their former masters'' retaliation, they returned to the von Verden castle.


    Kilian didn''t reject them. Since fate gave him three chances at life, he could at least give them two.

 31 Ostrias Transformation Part 2

    It took Kilian and his clones another week to fully equip the labs and the completed Celestial Garden. In the Fleshcrafting Lab, Kilian''s clones first worked on the 5,000 new workers, turning them all into riveting beauties, and giving them their badges of office.


    Of the pile of dead bodies, they crafted two separate sets of females, 2,200 that could be described as soul-stirring beauties, and 500 angelic females of transcendent appeal. The completion of this challenge took them an extra two weeks. In the meantime, starting with the second week, Olaf made the promotion of the new brothel throughout his viscounty and beyond, using the Phira Channel to spread the news across the entirety of Orloth.


    Arcadia didn''t have television or the internet in the same sense as Earth. Instead, they used Virtual Channels. Browsed through mirrors of various sizes, Virtual Channels served many purposes, ranging from recreational to informative. Some channels could read the viewer''s brain to produce shows or animations tailored to their taste. The most high-end channels could even pull the viewer in a world of virtual reality¡ªmaking them live the lives of their dreams.


    Phira was Arcadia''s version of the World Wide Web, a channel that allowed the viewer to access all legal information, send or receive messages, and create sub-channels to advertise content. All channels were nobility reserved and required accounts, Phira was no exception. Although Kilian previously possessed an account, for obvious reasons, he couldn''t use it. But of course, as the Viscount of Ostria, Olaf also possessed one.


    With 750 qraftas of investment, they advertised the Celestial Garden to the entirety of Orloth''s nobility circles, ensuring that on the opening day, legions would stand in line. Kilian split the Celestial Garden''s workers into three categories: angels, saintesses, and goddesses.


    Angels had bronze badges, saintesses had silver badges, and goddesses golden badges.


    To advertise the brothel, he allowed Olaf to take pictures of 300 angels, 50 saintesses, and three goddesses. The frenzied reactions they got convinced Kilian that if scaled to the entirety of the Arcadian Empire, his work would make him one of its wealthiest men. One and a half months after the fall of Olaf, the brothel was ready. Because the likes of gloryholes and strip poles were not only far too common but would undermine the value of his girls, Kilian settled for other events, masked balls, and orgies, hedonistic games, as well as unique drugs and beverages that he manufactured thanks to the Compendium of Species.


    However, only angels could take part in those games. In the same manner, only angels had an upfront cost of either three qraftas or three gold coins. To obtain saintesses or goddesses, however, the customers had to bid.


    Although Orloth possessed a debauchery-seeking noble market of approximately 310,000 noblemen that openly clashed for the ladies, in the first two weeks, Kilian only made 700 angels, 120 saintesses and six goddesses available, rotating the angels week after week, but keeping the same saintessess and goddesses on the roster. Saintesses and goddesses also possessed very few hours.


    On average the saintesses went for 160 qraftas, with the goddesses going for as high as 1,200 qraftas¡ªa bid of some hedonistic duke.


    Meanwhile, the Fehl Beasts remained in Ostria''s shadows, controlling the twelve noble houses to prevent any leakage. Of course, even the nobles understood that if words of 3,000 Fehl Beasts residing in Ostria spread, the entire city would be wiped out.


    Still, to solve the beast issue once and for all, while his clone handled fleshcrafting tasks and fed him with their experiences, Kilian used his legions of nano-spiders and his Eye of Revelation to thoroughly examine the root of the virus, as well as the form taken by the taint in their bodies.


    By the time the brothel opened its doors, Kilian had come up with and mass produced a serum to temporarily return the beasts to sanity, and give them the ability to shift back to their human forms¡ªa marvelous breakthrough. Although the fehl beasts had to take the serum once a month, the difference with their previous state was incomparable.


    And since he now had a more sensible method to keep them tame, Kilian retrieved his 3,000 nano spiders. From that moment on, Kilian changed their names from fehl beasts to fehl shifters.


    But while the majority of fehl shifters saw him as their savior and pledged eternal allegiance, others believed he exploited the situation to his advantage.


    Not that it mattered. On the one hand, Kilian held the only serum able to maintain them sane and human-looking, on the other hand, his 210 clones fleshcrafted Olaf''s 3,500 soldiers and piles of corpses into 4,000 abominations whose pure destructive might rivaled top-level Core Emissaries: the venandis!


    Worse, they also created seven greater abominations with the destructive potential of top-level High Emissaries: the boyars!


    Besides their man-made mutations, those creatures'' bodies concealed top-notch dra cannons comparable to the best on Orloth''s market. Moreover, all wore transformation rings to hide their true - grotesque - forms and cheat the onlookers into thinking them human. Those creations not only required the full measure of the Eye of Revelation, the Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting and Lv. 3 Transmutation, but also allowed Kilian''s dra control to rise sharply.


    As they dived into Ostria, little did Orloth''s nobility know that what they now saw as an earthly paradise was in fact nothing less than the haven of monsters!


    Three and a half months thus passed. In the first month, Orloth''s hedonistic nobility, the 310,000 customers, on average spent 6 qraftas on Kilian''s brothel. The angels got to keep 60% of their profit which amounted to 37% of the revenues. The saintesses and goddesses, however, lived for Kilian and had no need for money.


    And since Kilian put the bill for drug and beverage production on Olaf''s treasury, he didn''t have other charges to consider and took home a whopping 1,447,080 qraftas. Unfortunately for them, the noblemen, especially those winning bids for the saintesses and goddesses, became addicted to their partners, with some going as far as purchasing new residences in Ostria. The more affluent simply rented dwellings in the Celestial Garden.


    Ostria now felt rather crowded. And while the streets abounded with lustful noblemen, the rate of extramarital affairs across the nation skyrocketed, with legions of abandoned noble wives finding comfort in the arms of guards, soldiers, and other available commoners.


    With the noblemen''s devotion, in the second month, Kilian took home 2,894,160 qraftas. On the third, another 3.2 million dived into his coffers. But now, although they still met a steady rise, the revenues seemed to stabilize.


    "Thriving on vice is indeed the righteous path," Kilian stated in a rare gleeful tone as he lounged on a king-size bed with Jezebel straddling him.


    "More than 7.5 million qraftas in three months. Although you''ll undoubtedly face low periods, with this wealth alone, you can compare to an imperial duke," Jezebel remarked while rubbing her crotch against Kilian''s. Across those five months, they''d experimented with a whole lot of things, learning to enjoy all there was to in the other''s body.


    At the same time, Kilian learned more on fehl magic from Jezebel, predominantly focusing on fehl hexes. Although hexes were typically a dark magic discipline, because it englobed all attributes, fehl magic could accomplish all things the other could¡ªthereby making it both the broadest and strongest form of magic.


    Unlike dark magi who cast all spells and hexes from negativity sources, fehl magi had no such needs.


    "Just an imperial duke? No worries, soon, my wealth will even surpass King Erik''s," Kilian leisurely replied. The nobles of the Arcadian Empire always distinguished themselves from their foreign counterparts by adding "imperial" to their titles. Imperial duke, imperial marquis, imperial count and so on.


    Though pompous, there was an undeniable truth in the distinction. Imperial and non-imperial nobles didn''t stand on the same level. In Orloth, although the nobility didn''t pay taxes to the king, a marquis'' average net worth was only 120,000 qraftas. But in the Arcadian Empire, nobles paid 12% taxes to the emperor, and yet the average marquis held one million qraftas¡ªmaking them as wealthy as Orloth''s average duke. Beyond, a massive strength gap also existed.


    "We still have two weeks before the Imperial Academy opens its gates, and you''re done with all the things you planned to do here. What''s the plan?" Jezebel asked while lowering her hands on Kilian''s belt, clearly intent to unbuckle it.


    "Let''s see, besides letting you take advantage of me, I think I will just focus on dra control. If I can take it to Archon level by the time the academy opens its door, I can breeze through the first three magic ranks," Kilian replied. Across those months, regular mating with Jezebel made his dra grow by another 4,200.


    However, as far as magus ranks were concerned, dra was only one of many requirements.


    "You were plowing my ass last night, and I''m the one taking advantage of you? Logical," Jezebel rolled her eyes, yet didn''t stop unbuckling Kilian''s belt. Pushing it aside, she lowered her lips onto Kilian''s while his rose to meet hers. Their lips locked in an ardent kiss. But as their tongues entangled, and clothes started dropping¡­


    *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*


    A succession of knocking sounds stopped the two in their rut.


    "Ignore it¡­" Jezebel whispered with the glint of annoyance flashing in her amethyst eyes.


    "Since the person can reach the door, they can''t be irrelevant," Kilian denied Jezebel''s motion, and snapped his fingers, causing the door to fly open. With his current level of dra control telepathically moving small objects required little effort.


    But when the door opened, Kilian was surprised to see the lithe figure of a green-eyed brunette he''d rarely seen across the last three months.


    "Oh, Lena?"

 32 The Misfortunes of Wealth Part 1

    Following her transformation into a hellhound, Lena''s human form experienced drastic changes. On top of flawless six-packs, a perfectly toned body, larger breasts, and a more luscious figure, her body now emitted a feral scent able to trigger the arousal of the feeble-minded.


    At first, Kilian didn''t pay her much attention, giving her the same treatment as every single one of his nanobot-controlled fehl shifters. But after producing the serum, and returning the 3,000 shifters to sanity, a hierarchy soon rose from their ranks. Although in terms of pure destructive strength, the fehl monsters stood on similar levels, their intelligence ultimately differed. And while the transformation sharpened their senses, it also deepened their initial disparities.


    Of the batch of 3,000 shifters, Lena soon proved herself as one of the most competent, with devious cunning and leadership skills enabling her to subdue most of her peers. She also excelled at the fehl magic classes Kilian had Jezebel provide to strengthen the faction, and already was a top-level Lesser Emissary. Of course, such progress didn''t have a significant impact on her overall strength¡ªyet.


    Better, her bellicose tendencies seemed to have grown more focused, only appearing in specific circumstances. For all those factors, Kilian made her Sheriff of Ostria, the highest position of the knyaz, his secret police composed uniquely of fehl shifters.


    If the venandi and the boyars represented Kilian''s main army and mightiest destructive forces, with the power to arbitrarily investigate and sentence any threat to Ostria, noble or not, the knyaz handled the more subtle side of Ostria''s law enforcement. Across those past 3.5 months, more than one belligerent noble found himself vanishing from the face of Ostria, never to be found again.


    But while Lena theoretically reported to him, Kilian often had Olaf act as the intermediary while he focused on other matters.


    "Gr-greetings, lord justiciar. We have a situation I''m afraid cannot be solved by pure violence." Though startled by Jezebel''s ambiguous position on top of Kilian, Lena didn''t lose decorum and spoke with a polite bow.


    One of the first things Kilian had Olaf do was to publically take him as his twilight child, and create him Lord Justiciar¡ªthe supreme administrator of justice across Ostria. Although the methods differed, the move was very similar to how six years ago, Klaus forced King Erik to surrender him half his judiciary powers. In fact, in recent years, Klaus fully took control of the justice department.


    "Oh? You mean the gathering of dukes and marquises?" Kilian nonchalantly asked. From his goddesses, saintesses and other information channels, he''d already gained an accurate picture of the brewing resentment within Orloth''s high nobility. And seeing that Kilian was already aware of the situation, Lena didn''t delay.


    "Indeed, as your excellency knows, for the past three months, the resentment of Orloth''s high nobility has been skyrocketing. Though at first, they managed to keep a semblance of composure, the months spent in the company of the angels, saintesses, and goddesses, made them increasingly more restless," Lena pursued. Even before the Celestial Garden officially opened its doors, Kilian had no doubt in its success. But for the same reason, he didn''t attempt to scale up to the Arcadian Empire. The reason was beauty.


    Exotic drugs, beverages, and mind-blowing games aside, the true appeal of the Celestial Garden lay in the otherworldly beauty of its girls. Even for those noblemen that''d seen all kinds of beauties, they simply were irresistible. The goddesses, in particular, could snatch the souls of any one of those conceited aristocrats with a single smile.


    In fact, although they still fell a bit short, Kilian used Jezebel as the template for the goddesses. However, too much was as bad as not enough, and it wouldn''t take a genius to realize that those girls had been remodeled into their current images of celestial perfection. Naturally bred humans simply couldn''t possess such appeal. Even the best Flesh Sculptors of the empire couldn''t individually accomplish this.


    And naturally, those high ranking nobles couldn''t believe that a mere Olaf possessed the resources to accomplish such a project¡ªunless of course he obtained the assistance of some extraordinary biomancer backed by hundreds of Flesh Sculptors. This was the only explanation they could come up with, a thought that filled them all with envy.


    At the end of the day, though decades of tyrannical rule enabled him to amass wealth surpassing the average count, as a viscount, Olaf still was lesser nobility. Worse, his own strength was limited to low-level Core Emissary.


    How could those high-ranking nobles endure the thought of losing themselves in the arms of his possession? Of becoming the whales he made millions of? No, either they took the Celestial Garden from him, or they seized the means to create their own!


    "Now, with the stance of an admonishing elder, the Duke of Verden is leading a coalition of five dukes and 12 marquises, demanding the appearance of the viscount. Undoubtedly, they plan to force the secrets out of his lips." Ralph von Verden, the Duke of Verden, was the head of house von Verden, an 82 years old top-level High Emissary, and Olaf''s uncle.


    In Orloth''s ducal circles, he ranked at the very top, and even King Erik would treat him with courtesy. After reaching the limits of the High Emissary rank at the age of 65, he realized he could never take another step forward in this life, and like many others, chose to abandon himself to the pursuit of sensual pleasures.


    While the number of counts and below varied, Orloth possessed a fixed land division of 18 dukedoms and 36 marquisates with their rulers directly under the authority of the king. Counts, viscounts, and barons, however, tended to be subordinate to a higher-ranked noble. Ralph was not merely head of the house, but Olaf''s direct superior. For him to personally lead the coalition clearly showed their intent to strip Olaf of the Celestial Garden and his gains.


    "To think that I''d get about one-third of Orloth''s high nobility to deliver themselves to my doorsteps. The misfortunes of great wealth," Kilian sighed. Those below High Emissary level couldn''t resist Kilian''s spiders. Above, however, the lv. 1 nano-spiders lost their function. A low-level High Emissary only had a 50% chance of succumbing. Beyond that, the lv. 1 spiders could no longer affect them.


    As for the lv. 2 blueprint, due to his many expenditures in the 3.5 months, Kilian only had 631 kp left. An insufficient sum.


    "They cockblocked me. Those people have to die," Jezebel declared in a non-negotiable tone, making Kilian arch an eyebrow, and Lena blink in disbelief. In those last months, Kilian no longer concealed the fact that he wasn''t Lukas, and openly had Olaf change his name to Kilian zu Verden. At the same time, the high-ranking members of the knyaz became aware of the existence of Jezebel, his "closet wife" as they called her.


    Although Lena heard many rumors, she''d never expected the woman to be so shameless!


    "I think that''s my line...but nevermind, though they do deserve to die, five dukes and 12 marquises perish in Ostria, and it''s the king''s 500,000 men strong army that we''ll have to worry about. Assuming we triumph, next is the Duke of Kars, his 350,000 men strong elite army, and the 270,000 templars and magi of the Blood Rose.


    Are you going to kill them for me?" Kilian straightforwardly asked. Jezebel''s strength may be deeper than what he could assess, but the higher her fehl rank, the more restrictions, and backlashes she would face.


    Wiping out such forces would, at the very least, leave her severely weakened, and for what?


    However, as if oblivious to Lena''s presence, Jezebel cupped Kilian''s cheeks in her silky hands, her lips curved into a smile, and she replied:


    "If you ask nicely, why not?"


    Having not expected such a reply, for an instant, Kilian paused and simply stared into Jezebel''s amethyst eyes. And feeling the tension rise, Lena wondered if she shouldn''t quietly sneak out.


    "True words?" Kilian challenged in his usual calm tone.


    "But of course. My little Lothario, as long as we''re dealing with serious matters, if you fight, I will be the sword. If you retreat, I will be the shield. If there is no road ahead, I will open one for you," Jezebel pledged in a rare, serious tone.


    An imperceptible ripple flashed in Kilian''s gaze, and he shook his head.


    "Nonsense." The word had barely left Kilian''s lips that his crimson eye, the Eye of Distortion, opened. A dark-purple space vortex appeared beneath Kilian, swallowing him into another dimension. Not giving Jezebel the time to follow, the rift closed after him. But as it did, Kilian''s voice echoed, "Beautiful, if I still need you to do that, how can I call myself a man?"


    The space distortion vanished, leaving Jezebel and Lena alone in the room.


    "Did he blush?! Did he blush?! Aaaaaaah!" Jezebel clutched her cheeks and squealed in a fangirl frenzy. Alas, she didn''t spend five seconds in that state that Lena broke her glee.


    "I don''t think that his excellency can blush."


    The words brought Jezebel back to earth, and she dropped onto the bed. But now that Kilian no longer stood before her, she couldn''t help but wonder why such words ever left her lips.

 33 The Misfortunes of Wealth Part 2

    A dark-purple spatial rift opened before a marble white tower standing in the middle of the Celestial Garden. Exiting it, Kilian landed before the tower.


    Besides its magnificent gardens, translucent lakes and licentious marble sculptures mirroring an erotic form of ancient greek art, the Celestial Garden housed one wonder that kept all its customers in awe: the Tower of Divine Decadence.


    High of 720 meters, this tower was not a project Olaf''s initial reserves could endure; and only near the end of the first month following the garden''s inauguration did they complete it. A second circle illusion spell cast by Olaf kept the ongoing work hidden from visitors until it reached completion, and dazzled them all in one go. Now, all girls resided in the tower whose 142 floors and 780 residences provided them with ample space.


    Although they each purchased new residences in Ostria, the coalition of dukes and marquises now resided in a meeting room of the 119th floor, entertained by a saintess.


    "Gather seven venandi each, and use teleportation circles to depart for Verden, Wilburg, Singen, Buhel, and Zursteig. Infiltrate the castles, knock out and secure all close-kin of the five dukes without shedding blood, and await further instructions,"


    Using his nanobots, Kilian ordered five of his boyars who immediately got to work. While the boyars all were deathly loyal to him, to facilitate traceless communication, Kilian had them implanted with nano-spiders.


    Ostria initially didn''t have teleportation circles. In fact, throughout Orloth, the knowledge of making them existed only in Kars. But having obtained it from the Compendium of Technology, Kilian had several teleportation circles constructed to transport his forces to distant locations. Although without similar devices awaiting there, they couldn''t instantly return, he didn''t need them to.


    Lifting his eyes toward the darkening sky, Kilian calculated the remaining time between dusk and night, then silently walked into the tower. Taking an elevator, he directly rose to the 119th floor and stepped toward the meeting room where his guests currently enjoyed the soothing company of the saintess.


    The lady was about to pour the Duke of Verden another glass of wine when Kilian appeared. And seeing him walk in, she stopped her move, lowered the bottle, and stepped back.


    Intrigued, the 17 noblemen turned toward the source of the disturbance and were startled to see a barefooted man dressed in an open black jacket showcasing his bare, muscular chest, and pants of the same color. Worse, though endowed with striking hazel eyes and peerless handsomeness, the back-length dreadlocks fluttering at his back clearly indicated a commoner background!


    Instantly, scorn filled the 17 noblemen''s eyes.


    "I didn''t expect that an establishment of this standing would hire servants of your caliber." The Duke of Wilburg, a man that appeared to be in his mid-forties, spat in outrage and rose to expel the perceived nuisance. But before he could make his move, Ralph, the Duke of Verden glanced at the saintess, who since Kilian''s entrance kept her head lowered in deference.


    Before them, although she displayed courtesy, no such deference existed. That attitude added to Kilian''s appearance, allowed the old duke to figure out the truth of Kilian''s background.


    "You''re Olaf''s twilight child? The new zu Verden?" He directly asked, not even bothering to call Kilian''s name. In Arcadia, although they took the name of their adoptive parent''s house, because they weren''t born into it¡ªtwilight children used the particle "zu" instead of the typical noble "von."


    The "zu" signified that though ennobled, they merely were residents of the house and not direct descendants.


    Ignoring the old duke, Kilian motioned toward the saintess, and she rushed to bring him an extra chair which she placed at the other side of the massive mahogany table¡ªdirectly facing Ralph.


    Without a word, Kilian sat and crossed his legs on top of the table.


    "Impudence!" The 17 nobles rose in outrage, faces twisted by rage and indignation! In their decades-long lives, never had they seen or heard of a commoner, twilight child or not, displaying such insolence before high nobility! So startling was the scene that for a second, they failed to process it, only reacting after Kilian crossed his legs on the table.


    "I didn''t allow you to stand up," Kilian stated in a mild tone, but as soon as his words echoed, the 17 men all felt their bodies'' weight increase a hundredfold, and as if losing control of their motions, they quietly sat back in their seats. Instantly, their eyes widened in a stupor!


    Although they failed to anticipate the sudden move and didn''t have any defenses prepared, they all were High Emissaries!


    The 12 marquis were low-level High Emissaries, while Ralph aside, the remaining four dukes all were mid-level High Emissaries. With such strength, how could anyone just have them sit? Unless they faced an Archon or a top-level Fehl Daemon, this was entirely ludicrous!


    Confusion overwhelmed their minds, with some wondering if they didn''t have too much wine. But as they saw the same stupor in one another''s gaze, they realized that this was no hallucination!


    "You come into my house, enjoy my wine, the comfort of my establishment and the company of my girls, yet have the nerve to disturb my rest and plot against me? How rude. In this world, that woman aside, there is nothing I tolerate less than rude creatures. So tell me, how can I spare you?" Kilian leisurely asked. But though his tone remained level, every single one of his words seemed to carry razor-sharp daggers aiming at the nobles'' throats.


    Faced with such naked threats, many could no longer restrain themselves, and let their dra erupt to challenge Kilian''s suppression. Ralph was no exception. Alas, it was as if a mountain of dra kept them all pinned on their seats, making all their attempts futile. So absolute was Kilian''s control over them that they could neither cast spells nor sweat!


    Even quivering in fright seemed forbidden!


    In an instant, Ralph realized how horrible of a mistake they committed, and no longer took Kilian as a youth, but an old Archon hiding his true age beneath a magical facade! And who could blame him? Compared to five months ago, Kilian''s strength rose by a large margin. Unlike the average magus, his might rose alongside his dra reserves. With 15,200 dra, and his current level of dra control that approached Archon tier, even 10 top-level High Emissaries could only surrender their lives before him.


    However, regardless of how strong he was, Ralph didn''t believe Kilian dared harm their lives!


    "Sir, I don''t know who you are and why you find it necessary to hide in my house. However, Archon or not, you can''t bear the consequences of slaying five dukes and 12 marquis within Orloth!


    You may not fear King Erik, but what about the Grand Master of the Blood Rose?! Klaus von Karsten will never let you off!" Ralph spat and, with every word, regained his composure. After seizing King Erik''s judiciary power, Klaus made tremendous changes to Orloth''s law enforcement system. Initially, all nobles loathed the changes. But now, Ralph thanked all that was sacred for Klaus'' rise!


    "First, your entire enterprise in Ostria will collapse; second, even your life will be in jeopardy! His excellency is the number one Archon of Arcadia, the head of one of the empire''s strongest military orders, and the lord justiciar of Orloth!


    In this country, the law of Klaus is inviolable. Restrain your arrog-" Ralph had not finished his impassioned speech that Kilian pulled out a transmission mirror, and projected five images of the dukes'' estates.


    All were startled to see their wives, siblings, and children bundled within their court halls, and guarded by eight cloaked men. Moreover, though outwardly unharmed, all appeared unconscious.


    "Impossible, this is fake! Fake! Fake!" Ralph roared in succession, as if to convince himself of the words. But the longer he looked, the more convinced he was of the reality!


    "Verifying the truth is not difficult. I can just have five from each castle beheaded at random, and the heads carried here for you to see. My men won''t need more than three hours to return from your fiefs. Should we proceed in this manner?" Kilian asked while letting his cool exterior make way for a slasher smile.


    Instantly, the 17 nobles felt their hearts teeming with fright!


    "You...you are too arrogant!" The Duke of Wilburg stammered, full of a mixture of bitterness and resentment! If he''d known the situation would turn out this way, he''d never taken part in this plot!


    "Incorrect, you''re just not humble enough," Kilian countered and stretched his right hand toward the wine bottle. Alongside the nobles'' 17 glasses, it flew toward him, hovering above the table.


    Lilac-colored fumes surged from Kilian''s right index, coiling like tendrils as they dived into the bottle and stained the liquid in an eldritch curse. Kilian then poured each noble a glass and sent their wine to them.


    The glasses nimbly dropped before their destined drinker.


    "I will now make the situation clear. You have two choices:


    A) Surrender.


    B) Surrender.


    Seeking a third option results in lineage extermination for every single one of you gentlemen. Once you''ve processed reality, drink. But for every three seconds you waste, I will execute one of your kin. Oh, and this a duke deal only, you Orloth marquises rank too low in Arcadia''s hierarchy for me to deign to give you the leisure. You only have one second," Kilian explained.


    Throughout Arcadia, there were only two things that the high nobility cherished more than themselves: the continuity of their lineage, and the preservation of their ancestral lands. To safeguard those two things, the average high-ranking noble wouldn''t mind losing their lives.


    Moreover, not everyone was Olaf.


    Believing that they offended an existence of Grand Master level, the marquises didn''t dare hesitate and immediately gulped down their wine. The begrudging dukes followed soon afterward.


    Seeing this, Kilian nodded in approval. The wine contained a unique hex he learned from Jezebel: the Coveted Thralldom Hex.


    This hex worked through mediums the victim had to consume of their own volition, but once they did, their lives and souls would forever belong to the caster¡ªto Kilian.

 34 She Needs a Master!

    As the wine slid down their throats, the 17 noblemen felt like dozens of needles pricked their minds. Their faces reddened, and their eyes went bloodshot.


    "U-ugh¡ªaaaaargh!!" In tandem, they clutched their heads, groaning in anguish while a miniature version of Kilian appeared within their souls: thrall lords.


    Lilac mist swirled around the thrall lords, their eyes opened, and in that instant, although they couldn''t quite name what it was, the 17 noblemen knew that something had been robbed from them.


    "Stand up," Kilian ordered, and instantly the 17 nobles rose from their seats, standing straight like arrows.


    "Kneel," Again, a simple command, and they all dropped onto their knees, unable to resist Kilian''s will. Their eyes widened in fright! Although they knew the wine contained something that''d ensure their obedience, never did they expect Kilian''s control over them would be so absolute!


    "Now, now, forget that you ever saw me, that any of this ever happened, give up your harebrained scheme, and return to your lives of debauchery. When I need you, you will know." With those words, Kilian stood up and walked out of the room. The thrall lords relayed the command, and the 17 noblemen forgot all that occurred in the room, not even aware that their lives and death belonged to someone else.


    Confused, they exchanged glances, wondering why they gathered in the first place.


    "Actually, don''t you think that we''ve been too rash?"


    "Your grace speaks true. What need is there to bully the little Olaf when we can just enjoy the fruit of his labor for coin we will not miss?"


    "Well said, friend. Now now, where were we?"


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Kilian crossed Ostria''s streets to return to the castle¡ªwalking at a speed that prevented the bystanders from spotting his form. In less than a minute, he was back into the castle and made his way toward his chambers. At first, Kilian considered having Ralph abdicate his title to Olaf. Not only would this grant him direct control over the entirety of the duchy of Verden, but it''d also minimize the nonsensical issues he knew he''d have to deal with in the Imperial Academy.


    After all, a world-sized difference stood between the twilight child of a duke and the twilight child of a viscount. However, he ultimately reasoned against it. The move would trigger far too many questions, and bring even more eyes toward Ostria. Of course, that wouldn''t stop him from having those dukes and marquises covertly send resources to Olaf.


    And thinking of how he could dictate the lives, emotions, and sensations of the 17 fools without them even realizing it, Kilian was forced to recognize the undeniable appeal of pulling the strings. It wouldn''t take much for even the puppeteer to lose himself in the yoke of such powers.


    Did Klaus ever experience the same feeling?


    But as Kilian''s thoughts drifted to his father-nemesis, the sound of chatter echoed from his room, drawing his attention. Pushing the door open, Kilian walked in and was startled to see Jezebel and Lena sitting on his bed, engaged in a wild debate.


    "Bah, with boobs that size, who cares about feelings? Just press yourself against him, and he will do the rest!" Jezebel exclaimed while swinging her arms in theatrical gestures. Hearing this, Kilian narrowed his eyes at her.


    "What the hell are you talking about?" Kilian asked, awakening the two to his presence. Seeing him, Lena diverted her gaze, a vain attempt to conceal her flushing cheeks. Jezebel, however, leaped from the bed and wrapped her arms around Kilian''s.


    "Perfect timing, you sure do know when to make your entrance. Come, come, you''re going to love this." She rattled off. Meanwhile, Lena''s cheeks neared a crimson shade. Kilian''s eyes went between the two, and judging from the atmosphere, he quickly got the gist.


    "So, Lena here used to be a little tsun, but after turning into a hellhound, she is now also a dere. Since she returned to human form, she''s been experienced the hellhound need for carnal affection and wakes up every night from dreams of you plowing her cunt. Basically, she needs a master!" Jezebel explained while dragging Kilian toward the bed.


    Unable to endure this level of bluntness, Lena spun to face Jezebel, eyes daggering her with a glare of indignation.


    "You didn''t have to say it like that! What are you trying to make me look like?!" She snarled while clutching the bedsheets in a mixture of shame and outrage! At this point, Jezebel might as well call her a bitch in heat!


    Alas, Lena''s words had no effect on Jezebel, who gleefully carried on.


    "No need to thank me little tsundere. I know your kind better than most. There is only one solution to your problem, and it''s right here," Jezebel straightforwardly replied and emphasized her words by copping a feel of Kilian''s crotch. Having never expected the woman to go to such lengths, Lena stared slackjawed, not knowing how to react.


    At first, having no one else to discuss the sensitive topic with, Lena chose Jezebel, hoping to gain her expertise. But never did she expect the woman''s shamelessness to reach this extent! No, the word "shameless" no longer was enough to describe this paragon of depravity!


    A small voice in Lena''s mind wanted to shove Jezebel away from Kilian to prevent her perverted presence from corrupting her stately justiciar. Kilian, however, inwardly sighed.


    Fehl mutations weren''t unique to the individual and typically belonged to one category or another. Through the Compendium of Species, he''d learned of all the mutations and the various beasts they produced.


    Just like fehl daemons, fehl beasts possessed specific quirks. Though tyrannical in nature, Hellhounds, for example, bonded to the one that managed to defeat them and innately yearned to make them their mate. For Lena to develop such feelings after regaining human form stood within reason.


    "Lord Justiciar, d-don''t misunderstand. It''s not like I l-like you or anything. It''s just..." Lena mumbled, nervously playing with her fingers while avoiding eye contact. The words made Kilian roll his eyes. Could she be any more clich¨¦?


    "See? I told you. She just gave you the signal. At this point, her panties are probably dripping wet. Don''t disappoint her expectations," Jezebel jested, tapped Kilian''s shoulder, and vanished in a crimson haze, leaving the two behind.


    A brief silence followed, with Lena playing with her fingers while Kilian stepped closer toward her.


    "I dislike women that don''t know what they want and do not play games with my own. If you want something, say it with confidence, regardless of the possible result." He stated, lifting Lena''s chin to have her face his hazel gaze.


    At first, the sensation of Kilian''s hand on her chin threw Lena''s mind into chaos. But when his words resounded, her mind cleared, and nervousness made way for determination.


    "First, I must ask you something. What happened to him?" Lena inquired, obviously referring to her previous flame, Lukas.


    "My previous words were not far from the truth. He was betrayed by the organization he worked for and sacrificed in an infernal ritual. I used the opportunity to make his collapsing vessel the foundation of my new body, killed the cultists and joined Ostria.


    As for Bjorn, he''s safe and thriving¡ªprobably," Kilian replied, and applying a mild pressure on Lena''s chin, lifted her from the bed to stand before him.


    Having already guessed the gist of Lukas'' fate, Lena heaved a sigh. But though she wished to give him one final thought, as she stood before Kilian, her mind couldn''t drift.


    Their looks might have seemed 80% similar, but now that Kilian no longer concealed his true figure, Lena could see the staggering gap in handsomeness between the two. If the original Lukas stood above average, then Kilian represented divine perfection.


    Logically, such an enrapturing figure should have never appeared threatening. But in Kilian''s poised gaze, a mountainous pressure rippled, overshadowing all the rest. Trapped in the yoke of that pressure, Lena silently quivered and, for a second, wondered how it''d feel to have his hand clutch her neck.

 35 Breed me, Master! R-18

    The thought left as quickly as it appeared, but by the time she''d regained her wits, Lena had taken an unconscious step toward Kilian.


    The move disturbed her. In the past, Lena always strove to stand above the system, and never admit inferiority before any man. But following her mutation and their battle, it was as if Kilian''s existence subverted her. As if his shadow dwarfed and kept her pinned on the ground, leaving her no room to protest against his majestic presence.


    Worse, in those past months, Lena found herself casting furtive glances at Kilian, admiring his callous efficiency, and seeking him even when his eyes never landed on her. It was as pathetic as incomprehensible, and she could still remember how elated she felt when he granted her the position of sheriff!


    Why did her heart pound against her chest every single time she stood in his presence? Why did those damned butterflies flutter in her stomach? Why did she go from an authoritative gang leader to a mind-numbed lass? And more importantly, why wouldn''t her eyes let go of him?


    As the questions swirled in Lena''s mind, Kilian lowered his face toward hers and whispered, "What do you want?"


    Only now did Lena realize that she''d been silently staring at him for minutes. Alarmed, she almost took a step back. But trapped in the yoke of Kilian''s hazel eyes, her body didn''t obey her.


    "I only want...to serve you," Lena blurted. Better than anyone, she knew that Kilian didn''t have much interest in her. Believing that any attempt to use emotions or her body to stay by his side would have no positive results, she chose to humble herself.


    "Dishonest." But while her eyes remained glued on Kilian''s, a whisper brushed against Lena''s left ear, Kilian now stood at her back, and the one before her vanished in an afterimage. Startled, Lena spun and recoiled on several steps. But though he didn''t seem to move an inch, Kilian''s figure remained glued on hers, and by the time her back met the wall, the distance between them had not increased one bit.


    "Though coarse in her language, Jezebel speaks true. What you want can be summed up by one thing, me. The rest are all excuses," Kilian stated, pressing his hands against the wall and sandwiching Lena between his two arms. His lips stood an inch away from hers, building tension and teasing her with the proximity.


    Lena''s heart rate quickened, and as her breathing grew ragged, her DD cup breasts heaved up and down, making her bountiful cleavage stand out. He was right; all were excuses¡ªvain attempts to buy herself time.


    With enough time, she could learn to understand him.


    With enough time, she could dazzle his eyes, and prove that she deserved more than the occasional, elusive glance.


    With enough time, what couldn''t she get?


    The Imperial Academy''s annual recruitment ceremony was in less than two weeks, and all high-ranking officials of Ostria knew that Kilian would take part in it. He''d even reserved his seat already. Once he left, at the earliest, one year would pass before he returned. The thought left Lena restless, and seeing her inner thoughts exposed, she floundered against the wall, not knowing how to proceed.


    But before she could make a move, Kilian stepped back, and shook his head.


    "However, it isn''t for the best.


    I believe in your potential. In the future, you will become a powerhouse. So if you insist, I will not reject you. But let''s get something straight. You do not see me, but the projection of perfection I wish to portray.


    Don''t let the fehl beast lure you into error. Once I seed you, your life will take a 180 turn. You will live for me, think for me, fight for me, die for me. My wellbeing shall become your first priority. And for what? To follow a madman into uncertainty? You''re not Jezebel, you''re not immortal. This life is your first and last. Why waste it? There is a Lukas out there if you''re willing to wait for him. Don''t pin your hopes on Kilian," Kilian declared, baffling Lena who, for a second, stared dazed at his hazel eyes.


    But right afterward, she regained her guts, and knelt before him.


    "Your excellency, no, master. I am willing to give you my body, life, and soul, not just because I crave your touch, but for two reasons. First, I see in you a trapped eagle waiting to soar.


    Within a week, you pacified Ostria''s calamity. In five months, you turned the trivial city into a force whose wealth and military power can make dukes tremble in fright. In ten years what can you not accomplish? Your methods may be ruthless, but I do not doubt that with the right aim, you can change the very face of this world.


    Second, you renamed us Fehl Shifters, from Fehl Beasts. For many, this is a trivial change. But in my eyes, it shows that for you, we were never monsters, but different people in need of help. For those two reasons, I wish to follow you for a lifetime, and call you master!


    Please accept me!"


    Now, it was Kilian''s turn to stare blankly. Never did he expect that Lena had such a high opinion of his achievements. Amused, he beckoned, marking his approval¡ªand spurred by a feral burst of courage¡ªshe did the only thing she found reasonable. Leaning in, Lena took Kilian''s lips into hers. In that instant, a dam broke within her chest, unleashing the consuming yearning she''d kept suppressed all along.


    Wrapping her arms around Kilian''s neck and her legs around his waist, Lena pushed her lips against Kilian''s with more reckless passion than skill. Amused, Kilian supported her by the rear, sinking his hands in her toned butt to pull her away from the wall and lead her toward the bed.


    In a slow descent, Kilian dropped Lena onto the bed, and as they landed, his tongue snuck past her lips to coil with hers like two entangling snakes. Having never experienced such a roller coaster of sensations, Lena melted in Kilian''s arms, ready to abandon herself to him.


    Instinctively, her hands moved on his collar, eager to pull off his jacket and reveal his flawless figure to her lust-glazed eyes. But Lena''s hands had not even grazed him that Kilian locked her wrists in his right hand, and kept her arms pinned against her abdomen.


    "You''re getting ahead of yourself." He stated, breaking the sultry kiss to again glance into Lena''s eyes. For an instant, fear rippled in her gaze. Fear that she''d let the rut get over her head, that she''d step past his limits, and would have to watch him stand up and walk away from her.


    But then, Kilian slid down, kneeling with his head between Lena''s legs, and his right hand still holding her wrists.


    "I pick the rhythm, you follow." The words filled Lena with a gush of comfort, and she heaved a sigh of relief.


    "Y-yes." She whispered as if speaking to herself rather than Kilian.


    "Yes who?"


    "...your excellency?" Lena''s reply was rewarded by Kilian pressing his fingers on her crotch, dragging them across her covered slit and slowly teasing her clit through the fabric of her black leggings.


    "Anhh¡­" Hit by a sudden jolt of electricity, Lena arched her back and moaned in a mixture of surprise and frustration. "Try again," Kilian ordered, while his fingers still stroked the quivering woman.


    "Y-yes...master!" The trembling Lena whimpered and, satisfied, Kilian extended his hands toward the waist belt, lowering the tight-fitting leggings at a pace the hellhound found far too tantalizing. Still, recalling Kilian''s previous orders, she dared not make unnecessary moves, allowing him to handle her as he pleased.


    By the time the leggings dropped on the ground, Lena''s toned legs and splendid thighs stood in full view, revealing the moistened dark-blue panties that covered her crotch. And as his gaze trailed on the juices trickling down the panties to soak Lena''s inner thighs, Kilian couldn''t help but give a helpless sigh.


    "You should have told me that you wanted fresh air." He jested as if speaking to the panties instead of the crimsoned lady panting before him.


    Unable to handle the words, Lena attempted to close her legs, but Kilian''s hands stopped her knees, keeping her legs spread wide, and her soaking underwear in full view.


    "Did you forget the rule?"


    "N-no...master." Hearing this, Kilian curved his lips into a smile, pulled Lena''s drenched panties down her legs and, for an instant, appreciated the sight of her fully exposed legs. He then lowered his face onto her cleanly shaven pussy, spread open her lower lips, and flicked his tongue across her walls and clit.


    The move sent a deadlier electricity jolt coursing through Lena''s veins, another moan escaped her lips, and she had to muster her entire strength to resist the urge of shoving Kilian''s face into her cunt.


    Not that she had to. Kissing Lena''s labia, Kilian stuck out his tongue, sliding it against the walls to explore her pink flower at a slow, measured pace. The lady''s bashfulness crumbled under Kilian''s tender ministrations, making her moans freely echo within the room.


    "Ahhh...ahhh...ahhh!" While she barked moans at the ceiling, Lena''s body writhed and, to prevent herself from gripping Kilian''s head, she clenched the bedsheets with her trembling hands. His tongue snuck deeper and faster into her, moving with glaring expertise and locating all those sweet spots she knew nothing of.


    At some point, Lena lost control and stretched her hands toward Kilian''s lustrous hair, but before she could graze him, Kilian pulled his tongue out of her cunt, making her experience a feeling of crushing emptiness.


    Only when she returned her hands on the sheets did he slip his tongue back in and returned her mind to worlds of enchanting bliss. Sensing Lena''s pleasure building up, Kilian hastened the pace, rapidly striking her most pleasurable spot to bring her over the edge.


    "Ohhh...yes...master, right...there...ohhhh!" A loud, throaty groan escaped Lena''s lips and - with her raised, trembling legs spread as far as her body could bend - she collapsed in a toe-curling orgasm.


    Giving her no respite, Kilian climbed up her body, unbuckled his pants to free his engorged, erect member, and aim it at Lena''s dripping cunt. Lost in her little death, Lena didn''t react until the head of Kilian''s cock spread her pussy lips open and, in a slow thrust, broke past her membrane.


    "Ugh¡­" She winced in pain and sucked in deep breaths of air to withstand the hefty intrusion. Ashera''s mark then kicked into gear, unleashing waves of depraved energies that numbed Lena''s pain and trapped her mind in profane delight.


    With that one thrust, Kilian stretched Lena''s inner walls to the limit, and they clenched so tightly on his cock that he could barely push toward the hilt. But with every second, Lena''s walls expanded to adjust to Kilian''s girth, giving him enough room to drive his cock up and down her gripping fold.


    Her moans returned with a higher pitch, but once her insides fully adjusted to his girth, Kilian paused¡ªstaring into her eyes with an impish grin.


    "Now, now, what should I do?" Kilian dragged the words, making the languorous flames playing with Lena''s mind threaten to set her heart ablaze. For a second, the buxom brunette hesitated. But the depraved forces clouding her mind made short work of her inhibition, and she replied:


    "You should...breed me, master."


    "Louder."


    "Please breed me, master!" Lena''s voice thundered, bypassing the walls to ring beyond the room.


    Satisfied, Kilian picked up the pace, hammering his hips against Lena''s and pumping his cock hard and fast into her. The primal sound of flesh meeting flesh entangled with Lena''s hearty moans, and the pounding thus began.

 36 The Secrets of Kars Part 1

    Meanwhile, as Kilian''s cock wreaked blissful havoc in Lena''s cunt, Jezebel sat on top of the Tower of Divine Decadence, with a red cloud of gas swirling before her. In that cloud, the face of a dark-purple fehl daemon with short black hair, three pairs of ram horns, and a red sigil similar to Jezebel''s¡ªappeared.


    As tyrannical as bewildering, his eyes stared into Jezebel''s with unconcealed annoyance.


    "Why did you accept this assignment?" Mazdan, Jezebel''s elder half brother, asked in a prying tone. Back in the Fehl Plane, long before Kilian''s appearance, Ashera had launched a terrible war to encroach on a rival''s territory. Thus, for more than eleven months, Mazdan had been leading her armies. Only after seizing the designated areas did he return to Ashera''s court.


    The news awaiting there didn''t please him.


    "Your words imply that I was given a choice. I wasn''t," Jezebel''s replied in a calm tone while her lips curved into a gentle smile. However, her words brought Mazdan no satisfaction. Worse, his face contorted into a frown.


    "Utter rubbish. When has mother ever truly went against your will? If you stood intent on resisting this nonsense, she would have found a way to set you free. Instead, here you are, playing secretary for a mortal." He countered. Of Ashera''s children, for more reasons than one, Jezebel was her favorite.


    Though the youngest, Ashera doted on and indulged her the most. And indeed, Jezebel didn''t doubt that if she chose to resist the task, she would now stand far, far away. However, she didn''t. Why should she?


    "Or perhaps I just like it here. Why do you care, brother?" Jezebel inquired with her head tilted on the left, and her tone unchanged. But once again, her words deepened the Fehl Prince''s dissatisfaction.


    "Is that so? Could it be that you''re pining for your charge? If that''s the case, I shouldn''t be worried. We saw how that ended 140 years ago," Mazdan stated in a tone laced with irony.


    At first, as she straightened her head to face her brother''s hessonite hues, the words seemed to have no effect on Jezebel.


    "Mazdan, I like you, but," she began, but as her words reached that point, she tilted her head on the right, her smile and gentle eyes vanished, replaced by a soul-piercing glare able to make battle-hardened veterans quiver on their knees.


    "Don''t get on my nerve, you nosy little bitch," the words flew from Jezebel''s lips like sharp blades eager to tear the listener''s ears to shreds. But barely had they left her lips that Jezebel waved her hand, causing the red cloud to vanish in red particles.


    "If like you everyone measured likes and dislikes in power and standing, would butchers still have wives? Nonsensical." With those words, Jezebel stood up and cast her gaze far beyond Ostria, sweeping Orloth''s 1.2 million square kilometers to land on a distant city: Kars!


    Jezebel stepped forward, turning into a crimson beam of light that shafted into the night sky, and vanished within. Nine seconds afterward, she landed in Kars'' ducal palace, right before Klaus'' chambers.


    Dematerializing her presence, Jezebel flew through the walls, like a ghost of folklores, and landed in Klaus'' chambers.


    There, the Duke of Kars sat across a table, reading with a palm-sized ball of magical light instead of the room''s night light. But as soon as Jezebel appeared in the room, a cold breeze blew within, and the ball collapsed in light particles.


    Unalarmed, Klaus snapped his fingers, making a larger ball of light appear in his hand. But instead of dazzling the room, it only allowed him to catch a brief glance of the new entrant. In that instant, Klaus firmly believed that he glimpsed at beauty in its purest form.


    Eager to capture it, he reached for a brush, but before his hand wrapped around one, a foreign force locked his arm, preventing him from moving a muscle.


    "Unnecessary move, I am immortal. Even without your brush, my beauty would outlast eternity." The cold, authoritative voice of a young woman echoed within the room. Lilac colored flames burst from her form, brightening the room at last. Drawn by the focal point of light, Klaus'' blue eyes shifted back onto Jezebel, and his lips curled into a smile.


    "To what do I owe this visit?" He calmly asked, unfazed by the sordid predicament he obviously faced.


    "Someone I know makes you a focal point. The desire to drag you into inferno festers in his bowels, awaiting the time of outburst. His soul screams for vengeance even while he sleeps at night," Jezebel began as she took leisurely steps toward Klaus. The heat and pressure in the room skyrocketed, making sweat drench Klaus'' forehead. Yet, he remained poised and unmoving.


    "Kilian?" He inquired, though already 90% certain of the truth.


    "As I suspected, you know that he''s still alive. Another reason to keep you six feet under. Indeed, it is him.


    However, revenge, you see, is a psychological necessity; a vindictive cry against our ineptitude to alter fate¡ªholding no weight on the dead." Stopping before the table, Jezebel directly stared into Klaus'' eyes, piercing them with her oppressive glance.


    "I don''t want him to live in death. To pull strings for the shadows of ghosts will lead to nothing but self-destruction. And so long as your feet walk this world, that your lungs breathe its air, he will never stop.


    Therefore, you have to vanish." The table melted into pieces, leaving nothing between Klaus and the bone-chilling Jezebel. In her eyes, Klaus saw the cries of millions of wronged souls cursing her for the wretched ends they suffered.


    "I...don''t think he would approve. Are you even going to tell him?" The von Karsten Duke stressed the words, making Jezebel''s lips arch in a faint smile.


    "Of course, I will.


    After I''ve erased you from existence, he will have to face his shadow and grow out of it. By then, your fate won''t matter much. And even if it does, in time, he will let it go.


    Klaus, you have proven yourself to be a nuisance, and I do not care for your relationship with Niklas. Your plans and goals can die with you."


    Jezebel stretched out her right hand toward Klaus, causing the mountainous pressure of her dra to squash him where he stood. In that instant, Klaus wondered how a human being could possess such a level of dra. No, a human couldn''t. Across all continents, none could!


    Purple light burst from Klaus'' form, morphing into a continuous wall of purple crystals that surrounded and protected him. The pressure from Jezebel''s finger collided with the crystal wall, unleashing a silent explosion that blasted it to pieces, making Klaus backflip to land back on his feet.


    "A dra level of more than 5,000,000. You are a fehl." Klaus stated as his eyes narrowed in gravity. To say nothing of humans, across all continents, what race, what Exarch, could possibly unleash such a flabbergasting level of dra? Only a fehl daemon could. And then again, at least a Fehl Noble.


    However, Jezebel''s next words made Klaus realize that perhaps, he''d been too naive.


    "Actually, that''s just 1%," Jezebel casually said, and flicked her finger, firing an air bullet that blasted a hole through Klaus'' forehead, and sent him smashing against the opposite wall. His blood and brain matter gushed forth, splattering wall and ground


    "But for you, that''s more than enough," Jezebel added, and snapped her finger, causing lilac flames to enshroud Klaus'' form, and consume him whole. Uninterested in Klaus'' ashes, she turned heels, ready to depart from the scene.


    But in that instant, a hand tore through her chest, and Klaus'' figure reappeared at her back, as pristine as ever. Yet, the flames still seared his flesh.


    "We can agree on one thing, I do not want you as an in-law, either," Klaus declared with a smile, but then Jezebel''s form collapsed in an afterimage, and nine thin lightning spears skewered the von Karsten Duke from all sides.


    One in his brain, two in his eyes, one in his throat, another in his heart, abdomen, crotch, and the rest on his legs! This time, the lilac lightning seared Klaus'' blood before it could burst, but again, the inconceivable occurred.


    Klaus turned heels, and though the lilac flames and lightning still blazed, as he stared at Jezebel, his figure went from charred corpse to flawless nobleman.


    For the first time since her arrival, Jezebel''s eyes narrowed.


    "You are immor¡ªno, unkillable." Jezebel realized, accurately seeing through the nuance in Klaus'' state.


    Undisturbed, he nodded in approval.


    "Indeed, try as you might, you cannot claim my life."

 37 The Secrets of Kars Part 2

    The result stood entirely out of expectations. Never in her wildest dreams could Jezebel believe that the insignificant Klaus von Karsten possessed invulnerability. Yet, oddly, his body still aged.


    There were only two "pure" immortal races, the fehls, and another one that rarely made appearances. For others, immortality always resulted from a form of ritual, curse, or mutation. To what category did Klaus belong to?


    But as Jezebel''s thoughts reached that point, Klaus'' hands flashed, and his lips parted in incantation gestures:


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Amethyst Field," Klaus uttered, four purple circles appeared at his side, releasing waves of purple light throughout the room while eldritch glyphs swirled in their midst. The floor, ceiling, walls, the entirety of the room turned into a field of pure amethyst.


    Crystal magic belonged to the Unique Disciplines, arcane paths that typically didn''t have any related attribute or established spells. Fleshcrafting, transmutation, technomancy, time magic, desolate magic, summoning magic, and the likes all were Unique Disciplines.


    One of the requirements to become an Archon is to either create or activate an Arcane Bloodline. Arcane Bloodlines functioned like Kilian''s fleshcrafting and transmutation abilities, enabling the user to summon magical powers without spellcasting or any other form of ritual. Better, they often strengthened various aspects of the magi''s physiques.


    Because Archons passed down their Arcane Bloodlines, Archon-level houses often produced at least one Archon in the next generation. Needless to say, a staggering strength gap stood between magi with Arcane Bloodlines and those without.


    One person couldn''t have two Arcane Bloodlines, and Klaus created his own based on crystal magic. Using it as the foundation, he developed a unique set of crystal spells that filled his opponents with headaches.


    Jezebel, however, couldn''t care less.


    "A mortal with invulnerability. How interesting. But I wonder, how invulnerable are you really?" Jezebel cooly asked, and stretched out her right hand toward Klaus, causing four lilac circles to appear as she willed the dra pattern of her spell.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Disintegration." The four circles rotated at maximum speed, lilac-colored light flashed on Jezebel''s fingertips and, without a sound, Klaus collapsed in light particles. But at that time, seven massive amethyst spears emerged from the ground and shot toward Jezebel.


    Not bothering to evade, Jezebel waved her hand, releasing a formless energy blast that blew all spears into crystal pieces¡ªa futile effort.


    Shockingly, instead of dropping on the ground, the pieces turned into crystal needles, and they weren''t the only ones. From the floor, ceiling, and walls, myriads of purple crystal needles surrounded Jezebel and, in a flurry of purple squalls, assailed her from all sides.


    However, while myriads of needles neared her form, Jezebel closed her eyes, and as if blocked by an invisible wall, all needles stopped in their tracks.


    *Bang*


    Her eyes opened, and the myriad collapsed in light particles. Klaus'' form reappeared where it originally stood, as pristine as ever.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Crystal Formations." Dozens of crystal shards rose in the air, but instead of targetting Jezebel, they merged, morphed, and in a violet spiral, turned into nine, three meters tall golems.


    Seeing this, she nodded in approval.


    "For an Archon boy, you''re not half bad. I suppose you do deserve the title of number one Archon of Arcadia. Very well," Jezebel began and, undisturbed by Klaus''s outrageous regeneration abilities, stepped forward.


    "I can use 3%. Fifth Circle Spell: Bane of Immortals." Five pitch black, rotating circles appeared beside her, dark fog burst from the ground, coalescing into the ethereal form of a wraith. The wraith''s glittering, lilac hues shone with dazzling light, and with a horrid smile, it dove into Klaus!


    Crystal walls automatically rose from the ground to repel the wraith¡ªto no avail. Bypassing the walls, the wraith dove into Klaus, and unable to resist or evade, he couldn''t stop it.


    A black sigil appeared on his chest, and his face contorted into a frown.


    "I didn''t expect that you could also use death magic," he muttered, lowered his head, and sighed in a seemingly defeated tone.


    Crossing her hands behind her back, Jezebel sauntered toward Klaus and graced him with a gentle smile that heavily contrasted with her murderous gaze.


    "You''re what? 42? To say nothing of the fact that Fehl rules all disciplines, the things across this world that stand beyond your cognition are far too many."


    *CRACK!*


    The leisurely spoken words had barely left Jezebel''s lips that she smashed her right fist into Klaus'' jaw, sending the duke flying in the air to encase his head in the ceiling! Alas, she was just getting started.


    *BANG*


    Grabbing Klaus'' right ankle, Jezebel dragged him down the broken ceiling, and smashed his back on the amethyst ground! A ringing sound thundered within the room, but suppressed by Jezebel¡ªthe noise didn''t go beyond. Klaus'' bone shattered, and as the world around him spun, the duke spurted a large mouthful of blood.


    *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*


    Treating Klaus like a ragdoll, Jezebel smashed him front and back on the crystal ground that should have served as his defenses. Helpless, he could only endure the abuse. And without the outrageous regeneration abilities to support him, his handsome face soon turned into a gory mess.


    Tossing him aside, Jezebel smashed her red heels into Klaus'' crotch, crushing his balls in one go.


    "AAAAAAAARGH!" He howled in grief, but the scream of agony only managed to brighten Jezebel''s smile.


    "Now, this is what I call a delightful tune. Go, boy, scream for me."


    Stretching out her hand, Jezebel condensed a leather whip from her dra and lashed it on Klaus''s face, chest, abs, and limbs¡ªnot sparing the tiniest bit of flesh! This time, Klaus'' wounds didn''t heal, forcing him to endure Jezebel''s barbaric treatment in its purest form.


    Five minutes of relentless flogging went on before Jezebel halted her whip and stared at her artwork.


    Of a man, Klaus now only had a rough shape. Torn flesh and blood covered him from all sides, making him wholly unrecognizable. His limbs had all been mangled and twisted beyond use, ensuring that even if he miraculously survived, they could serve no purpose.


    However, survive, he wouldn''t. Jezebel''s whip vanished, and she clenched her fist, making Klaus'' bones turn against him, and skewer him from inside out.


    Feeling the fehl high surge in her mind, Jezebel rolled her head and stepped toward the window¡ªintent on leaving the castle. Although she''d limited herself to 3% of her real powers, every 1% brought with it non-negligible backlash. She needed time to recover.


    But as Jezebel reached the window, a sound stopped her feet: the sound of a heartbeat.


    Weak, yet rippling with powers transcending all Jezebel had ever faced on Arcadia, powers that didn''t belong to mortal hands.


    "Actually, killing me is of no use. Even if you did succeed, just like you, after some time, I would return. So long as my anchor exists, my life shall stretch across eternity. Klaus today, something else tomorrow, 10,000 incarnations may succeed one another, but I shall never suffer true death." A voice, Klaus'' mild voice, echoed from Jezebel''s back, and alarmed, she spun to face him.


    From the gory mess forming Klaus'' corpse, that strange heartbeat echoed, and as if to answer its call, dazzling light burst from Klaus'' form, mending all his wounds, and restoring him to pristine shape.


    But this time, Jezebel could see that the change had nothing to do with Klaus himself. No, external forces were at play.


    A golden, beating heart emerged from Klaus'' chest, shining in the dazzling light that dispelled Jezebel''s spell and restored him anew.


    "The heart of a Six-Wheeled Throne? How can this be?" Jezebel whispered, and for the first time since her arrival, her face contorted into a frown. Throughout all planes of existence, only one race possessed enough powers to contend with fehls: the Thrones.


    Thrones lived in secluded realms, aloof from mortal affairs, and just like fehls found themselves heavily restricted in the mortal plane. A throne''s strength depended on its number of wheels¡ªranging from one to seven. And from the energies rippling within that heart, Jezebel could see that its past owner possessed six wheels!


    This was a behemoth whose might could reduce legions of Exarchs into dust!


    How did such a treasure appear in Arcadia and fall in the hands of Klaus? More importantly, how could an Archon channel such power?


    The answer came nigh instantaneously.


    Oppressive radioactive energies burst from Klaus''s form, making the pressure of his 45,000 units of dra rise beyond Archon limit. Red energy wings sprang from Klaus'' back, and the heart dove back into the left side of his chest. Instantly, Klaus'' dra level went from 45,000 to 450,000 while his magical powers rose to reach the Exarch level!


    But if the massive strength leap should have startled her, it was Klaus'' red energy wings that gripped Jezebel''s attention.


    "Two Arcane Bloodlines; and the second one is von Skoll. I see. Now it all makes sense," Jezebel stated, finally seeing through the truth of Klaus'' state.


    Raising his head, Klaus faced Jezebel with mesmerizing amber eyes that bore a striking similarity to Niklas''.


    "I typically don''t allow outsiders to witness this form. But I suppose that for you, there is no such need. Though, now more than ever, I dare not take you as my daughter in law. Greetings, Crown Princess Viscellia," Klaus said with a polite bow.

 38 The Uncrowned Empress

    The tale of the Uncrowned Empress, Crown Princess Viscellia, is a long-standing taboo of the von Skoll dynasty. In today''s Arcadia, one hand is more than enough to count those that still remember the past events. Back then, although Klaus wasn''t born yet, in his infancy, he''d learned of his father''s greatest thorn: his Crown Princess, Viscellia.


    To the average noble, Crown Princess Viscellia was the emperor''s betrothed, a woman of remarkable intellect and beauty that vanished in a mysterious incident. Her presumed death left Niklas so devastated that from that day onward¡ªhe only wore black, and went from a gentle prince to a callous, power-driven tyrant.


    On the day he assumed the imperial throne, Niklas posthumously honored her as Empress of Arcadia, and never took a wife. All his children were born from his official mistresses, a situation that made their claim to the throne shaky, at best.


    But while the average nobleman saw in this a tale of undying passion and romance, those few aware of the truth knew better. The true reason for Niklas'' move was to make a perpetual reminder of the anguish that woman caused him¡ªengraving it all in the core of his soul.


    Every time he glanced at the empty empress seat, Niklas would remember the past insult. Said bluntly, Jezebel made him the monster he currently was.


    Because of Jezebel''s high-ranking Fehl nature, her specific abilities, and her familiarity with the emperor, Klaus inferred that she was that woman.


    But even as he referred to her with her past title, Jezebel showed no reaction.


    "The Cycle of Reckoning? Interesting, I wonder who you offended to suffer such a brutal curse. No, it can''t be you. It''s Niklas, isn''t it? How does it feel to pay for your father''s crimes?" Jezebel rhetorically asked, and joined her hands in a prayer sign.


    For a second, the snide made Klaus'' gaze harden, but immediately afterward, he regained his composure, his hands flashed in arcane gestures, and his lips parted in inaudible incantations.


    Five red, swirling circles appeared by his side, rippling with dreadful radioactive energies.


    "For a fehl of your caliber, 10% is the limit. Beyond that, the damage will surpass what you can endure in the Mortal Plane, and your body will rematerialize in the Fehl Plane. But with less than 10% of your original strength, can you resist an Exarch? Let''s find out!


    Fifth Circle Spell: Thermonuclear Blast!" Klaus bellowed, and the radioactive energies at his command coalesced in a red ball that sank into the ground.


    *BANG*


    In the instant the ball met the crystal ground, everything beyond a 50 cm radius of Klaus to burst under a berserk blast of thermonuclear forces¡ªor so it should have been.


    Instead, the explosion was restrained to its initial point of impact, collapsed inward, and vanished as if it''d never existed. Klaus'' eyes widened in disbelief. But he wasn''t given time to process the reality that Jezebel''s voice echoed:


    "6% is enough.


    Fifth Circle Spell: Sealing Blade."


    A three meters long greatsword appeared at Klaus'' back, skewering him faster than he could react. Klaus'' eyelids trembled, and while his blood didn''t flow, his pupils dilated.


    As lifeless as a deactivated cyborg, Klaus dropped on his knees, and this time, he didn''t rise again.


    "Son of a bitch, so what if you can''t die? Sealing is still right and prop-" Jezebel began, but before she could finish her words, her organs spiraled out of control, her face paled, and she splattered the floor with a large mouthful of blood.


    *Cough* *Cough* *Cough*


    With every cough, more blood left Jezebel''s throat, staining the crystal ground in a translucent red. Gripping her chest, Jezebel walked toward the window, turned into a red ball, and vanished in a shaft of light.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, within the imperial city, as he sat on his golden throne with courtiers filling the massive hall, Niklas'' eyelids trembled, and his eyes went bloodshot!


    "Who dares?! Fifth Circle Spell: Greater Teleportation!" The emperor bellowed, and before his astounded courtiers, vanished from the scene. In the same second, Niklas reappeared before the von Karsten castle and landed in Klaus'' room.


    The sight of his beloved son impaled by a greatsword awaited there. Alarmed, Niklas rushed to Klaus'' side, attempting to yank the sword free of his back¡ªbut to no avail. His face twisted in a frown, and he swept the room with his Arcane Sight.


    "No attribute, no energy signature, the work of fehl magic," Niklas realized following a brief examination. Yet, the truth didn''t faze him in the slightest.


    "Even if you are a Fehl Lord, for having the nerve to harm my son, you must surrender your life!


    Fifth Circle Spell: Karmic Revelation!" He snarled while placing his right hand on Klaus'' forehead. As an exarch, Niklas could will magic rather than casting it, thereby achieving the same as fehl daemons.


    White fog burst from Klaus'' head, forming a white, magical cloud in which scenes of the previous confrontation replayed. Niklas'' eyes stopped on the enthralling figure of the amethyst eyed demoness, and his heart spiraled out of control, pounding against his chest.


    "You. It''s you? How can it be you?! YOOOOUUUU!!!" Niklas snarled in a full-blown frenzy!


    "For 140 years, I have kept our coffin warm and dust-free. Jezebel, since you''ve chosen to return, it is only right that you pay your dues! In life or in death, you shall remain by my side!


    SIXTH CIRCLE SPELL: KARMIC RETRIBUTION!"


    Niklas let the entirety of his dra explode in one spell, the sky, the earth, the atmosphere, everything shook under this eruption of unprecedented might! The white cloud turned into a spear that shafted in the night sky to pursue Jezebel''s form!


    By now, she''d already crossed half of Orloth. But faster than lightning, the spear tracked her down to lodge in her heart!


    Well, almost.


    In the instant that the karmic spear neared her back, Jezebel''s lips curved into a fiendish grin, and she spun to face it!


    "Sixth Circle Spell: Karmic Reversal."


    The spear butted against an invisible wall, and repelled by transcendent forces, flew back to nail Niklas'' heart instead!


    His bloodshot eyes widened in disbelief!


    "Karmic magic is Astral Master territory. To have already reached that threshold, Niklas, I must say that you didn''t disappoint my expectations. How unfortunate that the final step will now elude you for a lifetime.


    Congratulations, hahahahaha!"


    Jezebel''s demonic laughter thundered within Niklas'' mind, and just like Klaus, he dropped on his knees, with his pupils dilated by the karmic blow!


    ¡­


    Undisturbed, Jezebel returned to Ostria and turned into red mist to sneak into Olaf''s study. However, never did she expect that Kilian would already be waiting there.


    "According to my estimations, you should still be drilling your new pet. Done already?" Jezebel asked in a jesting tone. Kilian, however, remained stoic.


    "Had fun?" He casually asked.


    "So-so," Jezebel replied, and walked toward the mahogany table facing Kilian. But she''d not even taken three steps, that she felt the impact of four trucks smashing into her from front, back, left and right. The world around her spun, and she collapsed on the floor¡ªalmost.


    Though he too felt the blow, unlike Jezebel, Kilian retained his consciousness, vanished, and reappeared by her side to prevent her fall. For a second, he stared at her unconscious form. A cluster of emotions flashed in his eyes and, while holding her in his arms, he walked out of the study.


    On that night, a storm of fear swept the entirety of Arcadia. Rumors soon spread that following a mysterious incident, Emperor Niklas and the Duke of Kars both lay comatose in bed. Whether they''d ever awake or not, remained a mystery.


    As the law demanded, the crown prince, Ayden von Skoll, assumed the regency.

 39 Niklas II

    In the meantime, Jezebel awoke to a familiar ceiling and an even more familiar scent teasing her nostrils. Following it, she bent her neck to the right. And there, Kilian sat across the bed, eying her with an inscrutable pair of hazel eyes.


    Dozens of red, vein-like marks marred Jezebel''s body, wrecking her previously divine figure with an unholy countenance. But knowing that her new appearance triggered no change in Kilian''s gaze, she heaved in relief, and a wave of comfort cooled her aching chest.


    "You look so ugly. This ought to be the reflection of your soul," Kilian stated in such a serious tone that, for a second, Jezebel failed to process the words¡ªblinking in disbelief.


    "Ever the player. How did I fall for you?" She countered upon regaining her composure and struggled to rise from the bed. But with no strength in her arms or legs, the task soon proved impossible.


    "Because you''re stupid, of course. So stupid that you almost managed to cripple your arms and legs, and wasted a week of my time. Women can be such eyesores," Kilian sighed and pulled Jezebel onto his lap.


    "Make no mistake, let this be the first and the last. From now on, stop doing unnecessary things. While I don''t mind spending a few decades caring for you, if there is one thing I do not want, it''s to see¡ªthis¡ªruined by the three words¡ªI know better," Kilian whispered in Jezebel''s ear, reached for a comb, and untangled her hair.


    At first, the words made her heart pound in the type of unease she''d never experienced beforehand.


    But when the comb drew through her hair, for the first time in two centuries, Jezebel''s heart relaxed, and she experienced a high of unmatched proportions. Shutting her eyes, she collapsed into her mind to experience the rush at its best, and her lips curled into a contented smirk.


    Thus, Jezebel discovered a new, more practical source of fehl high, and in less than two hours, recovered enough that she could at least stand on her own, or use some minor tricks.


    "Don''t you want to know where I went?"


    "I am not silly."


    "Aren''t you curious about what I learned?"


    "Because if I don''t ask, you won''t tell?"


    "Touch¨¦."


    The playfulness in Jezebel''s tone died down, and as she rose to face Kilian, utmost seriousness replaced them.


    "The truth might be hard to digest, and I suppose it''s one of the reasons why mother chose me, out of all people, to assist you. Do you know Niklas II?" Jezebel asked. Gravity laced her words, and hearing that name, Kilian arched his eyebrows in consternation.


    "Reinhold von Skoll, the eldest prince. Former Crown Prince of Arcadia. It''s said that on the day of his birth, 36 red clouds filled Arcadia''s sky, the highest number since the empire''s establishment. Beside himself with joy, Emperor Niklas immediately named him crown prince¡ªbreaking 3,000 years of tradition," Kilian replied, not seeing the link between the two.


    While the Arcadian Empire enforced primogeniture succession, the imperial throne didn''t automatically pass to the eldest. Instead, the Crown Prince was jointly selected by the grand masters, the conclave of elders, and the emperor in a competition broadcast to the entire empire. The current crown prince, Ayden, was Niklas'' fourth son and selected from that competition.


    However, he only got the opportunity because the eldest prince, Reinhold, died early.


    "It can be said that Niklas'' love for Reinhold knew no rival. Even his adoration for his posthumous empress couldn''t compare. For the first time in decades, the emperor was smiling again. And although the grand masters and the conclave wished to challenge the summary appointment, when faced with Reinhold''s unparalleled aptitudes, they could only swallow their discontent." The von Skolls could dominate the Arcadian Empire while maintaining the crowns of their vassal kings for 3,000 years because of one thing only: their Arcane Bloodline.


    The strongest Arcane Bloodline of humanity, besides enhanced strength, speed, and regeneration abilities, von Skoll blood enabled its bearers to control nuclear reactions¡ªto various extents. At birth, all von Skon scions triggered a celestial phenomenon with multiple numbers of red clouds.


    The more red clouds they triggered, the stronger their bloodline, and the higher their future prospects. The average von Skoll triggered three to five clouds. Niklas himself "only" triggered 18. A record unbeaten by any one of his predecessors. For Prince Reinhold to trigger 36 showed that for him, becoming an Exarch would only be the beginning. Many believed that he''d be the first to break the long-standing myth that the human race could not go beyond the Exarch limit.


    "So great was Niklas'' love for that son, that on the day he turned three, Niklas broke the naming taboo, and changed Reinhold''s name to Niklas II, thereby telling the world that only he could inherit his crown. Alas, fate makes a joke of prodigies.


    At the age of seven, the most outstanding arcane talent in the history of Arcadia...perished from magical corruption." Magical corruption was a form of backlash common among dark magi, but atypical in traditional practitioners.


    A result of wild, uncontrolled dra, it wreaked havoc in the magus'' body and destroyed their internal organs. For Reinhold to perish overnight in such a wretched manner threw many Arcadians in confusion. Some even believed that this was nothing more than a cover story for the true cause of death.


    "And nine months later¡­" Jezebel particularly stressed the "nine months," making Kilian''s eyes narrow in confusion.


    "Klaus was b..." The word died in Kilian''s throat, disbelief filled his widening eyes, and he shook his head in disapproval.


    "How can this be?" He countered. Kilian wasn''t so conceited as to think himself the only one able to live multiple lives¡ªgranted that a reasonable explanation followed.


    It did.


    "This is nothing but an educated guess, but there is no other valid explanation. Klaus possesses two Arcane Bloodlines, the one he created, and an incomparably more dreadful one: a von Skoll bloodline.


    As you know, none can have two Arcane Bloodlines. Even my mother is no exception. The Arcane Bloodline isn''t merely a matter of DNA, just like the fehl taint, it engrains itself in the soul. The soul only holds one spot for Arcane Bloodlines. Having two active would trigger extreme conflicts. And even if inactive, the owner can''t possibly go beyond the Archon level.


    The only way to hold two is to die with one, escape the proper reincarnation cycle, and merge with another body and soul to expand the allocated space. The magus can then create a second one and alternate between the two," Jezebel explained to the incredulous Kilian.


    "Klaus is unkillable. His body ages, but can''t be destroyed by external forces. And if his words are to be taken at face value, he automatically escapes the proper reincarnation cycle upon death.


    On the outside, it seems like a boon. However, it''s actually the result of an ancient Karmic Hex requiring the blood sacrifice of 100,000 souls driven by the same need for vengeance¡ªthe Cycle of Reckoning.


    The hex skips one generation to make the target''s offspring answer for the father''s sins. The rules are determined by both the casters and the magnitude of the sins, but until they are fulfilled, the victim will go through daily agony, perish at the age of 16, and start over.


    My guess is that the hex triggered when Niklas II turned seven, and to save his life, Niklas split his soul to enfeeble the hex, then used Soul Transference, to transfer the main soul to a fresh embryo. Where the others currently are, I can''t say. However, this is but a temporary delay.


    Even if you don''t do anything, at best, Klaus, as you know him¡ªwill not live beyond 51. Worse, he''s been tapping in powers far beyond his station. I wager that he doesn''t have more than three years left."


    The words hit Kilian like a 10,000 kg heavy sledgehammer, and, for a second, he failed to process them.

 40 Farewell Ostria

    He had less than three years left.


    Kilian never planned to kill Klaus. His death couldn''t sate his appetite. Only by ruining all his goals, hopes, and aspirations then forcing him to endure the result across centuries, could his soul find peace. At least, those were his initial thoughts.


    But now, it all appeared so meaningless. Could he even complete the miniature star before Klaus'' predetermined death? And if he did, so what?


    What an irritating situation.


    For a second, Kilian wondered what use his revenge even held. Was it nothing more than a duty unto himself? A proof of his failings? The culmination of his rage and hatred, perhaps. Good to satisfy a brief fehl high. Yet, though his mind could see through the truth, his heart couldn''t let go. Why should it?


    Pulling in a deep breath, Kilian shut his eyes and formed a mental picture of Klaus'' deeds. Did Klaus raise him to destroy him? Would shattering all of his plans and aspirations turn into his salvation gate? Or did more lie buried?


    Who cast the curse?


    "The eldars." The answer came nigh instantaneously. Almost 50 years ago, Niklas genocided the eldars. Though the most arcane gifted race of Arcadia, a dwindling population added to a lack of interests in the pursuit of power, weakened the eldars across generations.


    However, masters of the arcane they remained. If not for Niklas'' sudden and unexpected assault, they could have never perished so easily. And even then, the Divine Glory suffered non-negligible casualties. Knowing that only destruction awaited them, did the Eldar Exarchs gather their tribesmen for one final stand, and in their grief, hexed Niklas'' very lineage?


    That being the case, why did none of the three princes show those symptoms? The youngest, Ayden, currently was 21. How did they survive? Did the hex only affect one? Where were the lesser souls? All the questions and hypotheses swirled in Kilian''s mind and finally united in a single answer.


    His eyes opened wide, and he stood up.


    "Pack your things, we''re almost late for the Academy," Kilian stated and stood up.


    Before his departure, there were still many things he had to organize, many instructions Olaf and his clones needed to follow. All along, Jezebel silently observed the fluctuations in Kilian''s face and emotions, wondering when he''d inquire about her relationship with Niklas. However, he never did.


    Did he care so little? Or, like he previously said, it just wasn''t relevant? But then she remembered that he quietly took care of her for a week, and the rest became irrelevant.


    ¡­


    Back in his study, Kilian faced Olaf, who bowed in silence.


    "The creation of the miniature star, the venandi and the boyars'' progress, all rely on my clones. However, the production of battle armors, aircraft, anti-tank weapons, and the missile defense system will still depend on you.


    From now on, our subordinate dukes and marquises will provide you with various resources. I will also put six million qraftas at your disposal, and let you handle the revenues of the Celestial Garden."


    Though inwardly, Kilian planned to make the miniature star the driving force behind all his energy weapons and armors, in the outside, he still needed to establish a robust "military state" to ensure Ostria could handle all challenges within Orloth. Based on the resources at their current disposal, in half a year, Ostria''s modernization should be complete. At the very least, it wouldn''t lose out to the capital of an imperial duchy.


    "As you command, master!" Olaf replied. Having suffered extensive modifications across the past months, although in magical powers, he remained at Core Emissary level, just like the boyars, Olaf could now compare to a top-level High Emissary in battle prowess. However, there still was one problem left.


    "In your last checkup, I had the clones implant you with a nanochip; activate it," Kilian ordered and, without delay, Olaf pressed his thumb on his right eyelid, squeezing it with mild pressure.


    As if hit by a jolt of electricity, he staggered, teetering on several steps while confusion filled his blue eyes. In three seconds, the confusion vanished, replaced first by jitters, then waves of elations. Olaf''s lips curved into a broad grin, and spinning 180, he wiggled his hips, waved his hands, screaming for all to hear:


    "I AM BACK! I''m back, I, I, I''m back! I AM BACK! I''m back, I, I, I''m back! I AM BACK!"


    Seeing this, Kilian shook his head. Because in the following months, Olaf would have to deal with many old faces, Kilian had his clones implant him with a chip that''d rearrange his neurons to mirror his previous behavioral styles. The result now stood before him.


    Following five seconds of improvised nonsense, Olaf spun back to face Kilian and bowed with utmost seriousness.


    "Lord father, have no fear, I will follow your instructions to the letter!" He solemnly pledged, and knowing that Ostria would be in the trustworthy hands of Olaf von Verden, Kilian shoved a nano-spider down his throat and left with great sorrow.


    ¡­


    As an institution located on an island northeast of the Imperial City, the Imperial Academy naturally stood thousands of kilometers away from Ostria. Applicants from foreign nations typically made the trip in flying vessels, frigate-shaped aircraft powered by dra reactors, and used for both offensive, defensive, and recreational purposes.


    Though the average vessel possessed a speed of Mach 2.1, and the trip wouldn''t take more than two hours, the academy organized a banquet to welcome its prospective students a week before the official opening.


    They only had 14 hours left. If not to prevent any disturbance to Jezebel''s recovery, Kilian would be long gone.


    By now, Lena had handled all the necessary paperwork and had the vessel ready for boarding. Investing in aircraft was one of Olaf''s first decisions as viscount of Ostria, and although he only possessed one, it spoke tales of his despotism and misrule. The average aircraft went for 10,000 qraftas, a price that counts couldn''t afford. Where did the money come from?


    At the base of the airstair, Lena stood in wait and welcomed Kilian with a polite bow.


    "Master, all is ready. You may board at once."


    "Jezebel?"


    "Awaiting you in the cabin."


    "You''re about to leave the prestigious post of Sheriff of Ostria to make an enemy of Arcadia''s elite and smack a great many deal of knuckleheads. Any regrets?"


    "None whatsoever!"


    "And they say romance is dead," Kilian sighed and crossed the airstair to step into the cabin¡ªleaving behind a dumbfounded Lena.


    What was the link with romance?


    Soon afterward, the vessel took off, taking Kilian, Jezebel, and Lena beyond Orloth, and across Arcadia!


    In a flash, one hour passed. While resting on Kilian''s lap, Jezebel used the time to explain the details of her confrontation with Klaus, Niklas'' intervention, and how long the two of them would remain comatose.


    Lena listened with rapt attention while silently wondering if the vixen wasn''t exaggerating her contributions to impress the master. Kilian, however, appeared slightly distracted.


    And while the two vied for attention¡­


    *BOOOM*


    ....dark purple light flashed from beneath the vessel, and Kilian saw a dark-purple arrow tear through his cabin!


    Instantly, he seized Jezebel with one hand, Lena, with the other, smashed open the porthole and leaped beyond the vessel''s range.


    A ringing blast thundered, and the vessel burst into smithereens¡ªcatapulting the three toward the ground!

 41 Desolate Knives

    Only when the blast catapulted them toward the ground did Lena and the weakened Jezebel awake to the reality of their situation. Tumbling from eight kilometers of altitude undoubtedly wasn''t the type of experience that made Kilian''s heart teem with excitement. Without involving magic, even the average High Emissary couldn''t survive a fall from eight kilometers of altitude. Naturally, Kilian had no intention to test his limits.


    However, instead of using the Eye of Distortion as the immediate solution, Kilian stretched his senses to the dra within the atmosphere, using his quasi-Archon level dra control to alter the laws of physics and alleviate his fall. As a consequence, the fall that should have taken less than 60 seconds stretched across minutes¡ªthereby making the trio simple targets.


    Without activating the Eye of Revelation, Kilian watched out for a follow-up. However, it never came. The trio nimbly dropped on the ground, landing in a forest east of the Arcadian Empire. The location added to the oppressive scent of resentment billowing from the earth and trees, allowed Kilian to realize that they now stood in one of the former territories of the genocided eldars.


    Returning to their feet, Jezebel and Lena scanned the area. But with her current state shackling her, Jezebel''s probe bore no fruits. Meanwhile, Lena''s gaze hardened. With her Hellhound senses, especially her sense of smell locating all presence across 100 meters carried no effort. Yet, the enemy stood beyond her reach.


    Either they possessed elusive anti-tracking methods, or they simply lay out of her range. Kilian leaned on the former.


    "I don''t play hide and seek with males," Kilian stated, obviously aware of the hidden forces'' presence. The expected clatter of ordered footsteps didn''t follow; yet, 48 figures emerged from the shadows. Though it was almost midnight, with his Arcane Sight, Kilian could accurately identify every single one of the armored men.


    All appeared clad in dark-blue power armors, with helmets keeping all faces concealed¡ªexcept for six. The leading six, undoubtedly. A floating, five meters tall bow hovered between them, bent without external help, and aiming another purple energy arrow at Kilian''s group.


    "Greetings, Kilian, if that''s even your real name," said a middle-aged man with short, combed brown hairs, and a thin, curled up mustache fit for a cartoon villain. Standing ahead of the other five leading men with a commanding stance, he gave the impression of leading the group.


    But as Kilian''s gaze alternated between the six, an imperceptible glint flashed in his hazel eyes.


    "When the first thing you did was to shoot my vessel, my name became irrelevant," Kilian cooly replied, and straightened his back to face the 48. Dressed in a black trench coat and shirt, Kilian''s current gear clearly couldn''t compare to the sophisticated armors and weapons at his foes'' disposal.


    Throughout Arcadia, power armor technology was reserved to kings and imperial dukes or above. Klaus aside, nobles below that rank couldn''t access them. Therefore, as soon as their foes made their entrance, Lena first believed the Celestial Garden''s success spread farther than it should have and triggered the assault of an imperial duke. But when the leader addressed himself to Kilian, confusion flashed in her eyes.


    Who was he to doubt Kilian''s identity?


    "Now, now, please don''t bear a grudge. This first shot was nothing more than our way of determining who would lead the negotiations. You see, since you offed the members of our Ostrian chapter, the higher-ups have been considering your recruitment. They believe you would make a remarkable addition to the Desolate Knives.


    Alas, we have a bit of a conflict," the leader said in a jovial tone while the purple arrow still aimed at Kilian.


    "You see, your conflict with Lord Bjorn and Lady Tamara proves a challenge. Those are future senators of our order¡ªtheir likes and dislikes hold tremendous weight. If you are willing to bury the hatchet, our division will handle the negotiation. We believe that your body''s value alone will make the Arch Senate waver," the leader pursued, but though outwardly unchanged, his jovial tone now concealed veiled threats.


    Clearly, if Kilian refused to submit, the hostilities would begin.


    "Oh? The Desolate Knife Cult is a branch of the Technocracy?" Kilian rhetorically asked. From the man''s words, he could see that his killing of those cultists didn''t escape their superior. Perhaps, they all had the neural activities of their brains remotely monitored by a supercomputer-like device.


    Unwilling to conceal the truth, mustache man nodded in approval.


    "You are as astute as we heard. Indeed, the Desolate Knives are one of the five divisions of the new Technocracy. We fuel its coffers by handling murder assignments for Arcadia''s nobility, and sometimes hasten work offers by creating strife here and there.


    We operate in all cities and have officials of various ranks planted across the continent. Even the imperial court isn''t beyond our reach. By joining us, you open a radiant future for yourself.


    Although Lady Tamara now believes that you possessed her beloved brother and murdered her "loving" parents, that is a situation we can remedy. As for Lord Bjorn, our senator never liked him, anyway." The man stressed the last words by stroking his mustache.


    Kilian needn''t hear more and glanced toward Lena.


    "Take care of Jezebel, I will make sure you don''t face threats you can''t handle," Kilian stated, and without waiting for Lena''s reaction, turned his gaze back onto the Desolate Knives. Feeling his intent to oppose them, the apparent leader narrowed his eyes at Kilian.


    "You should think twice, in less than five years, the Technocracy will overthrow the empire and redefine the very pattern of Arcadia. Nothing can stop our return. Join us now, and all the breakthroughs we accomplish through your body will in turn fuel your growth," Mustache man reminded. The nature of Kilian''s body was the main reason behind their move.


    Although he clearly wasn''t a daemon, the mysteries surrounding his appearance and the abilities at his disposal hinted to profound fehl secrets. Secrets the Desolate Knives desperately needed.


    But as the apparent leader''s last "entreaty" echoed, Kilian couldn''t help but sneer.


    "Six High Emissaries, 12 High Templars, 30 Core Templars, that''s a shitload of kp¡ªif I can take you all alive, that is. Pray that I don''t," Kilian stated in such a level, yet sinister tone that for a second the six leaders questioned the wisdom of their move.


    "You had your chance, even if we can''t take you back alive, the dead you still has many uses." Without further ado, the apparent leader raised his hand, giving the signal for his forces'' assault.


    At the same time, dark blue helmets rose from the armors'' necks to cover the heads of the six top-level High Emissaries.


    The 12 High Templars and 30 Core Templars brandished knives of pure energy and encircled Kilian in a battle formation. Six groups of one High Templar and three Core Templars each leaped toward him, moving faster than bullets to hack their knives at his vital points!


    The remaining templars all aimed their right hands at Kilian, releasing formless energies from their gauntlets, that enhanced the gravity in his vicinity tenfold! With their armors shielding them, the vanguard didn''t fear the gravitational changes, and freely dropped on Kilian!

 42 Obsidian Energy Armor

    The whistles of 24 coordinated blade strikes permeated the air as the templars dropped on Kilian. At first, as if suppressed by the gravitational pressure, Kilian made no move. But as the energy blades neared his form, he raised his right hand, causing the might of 30% of his dra to erupt in a sky-blue energy shield.


    *CLANG*


    Faster than their subordinates, the six High Templars struck first, the following 18 Core Templars''s blows rained immediately afterward. 24 blades collided with the shield at full force, but unlike Olaf''s cannons, though they bounced against the shield, the blades left thin cracks on its surface.


    Still restraining himself to 30% of his abilities, Kilian stretched out his hands, mending the shield''s cracks, and making it expand across a 15 meters radius. Undeterred, the 42 templars aimed their energy knives at it, and the 42 blades expanded in brutal knife-shaped beams that slammed into Kilian''s shield from all sides.


    *BANG*


    Unable to withstand the assault, Kilian''s shield collapsed in glass-like energy pieces. But while the 30 Core Templars'' knife-beams didn''t outlive the shield, the 12 High Templars'' carried on unimpeded, still aiming for Kilian''s life.


    The Desolate Knives showed no conceit. Their six leaders scrutinized Kilian''s every move, ready to trigger an arrow shot at the first given opening. All blows aimed for his life, leaving his survival to his skills or fate.


    Unfettered by the gravitational suppression, Kilian vanished, reappeared behind Lena and Jezebel, and hurled them both out of the knife-beams range. The beams'' trajectories changed, immediately adjusting to nail Kilian.


    "Bone Cocoon," Kilian whispered, dozens of spike-like bones protruded from his flesh, expanded, and spiraled to form a bone cocoon that challenged the twelve knife-beams!


    *BOOM*


    In a ringing blast, the knife-beams clashed with the cocoon, but failed to leave the tiniest dent. Before this eldritch scene, the six High Emissaries'' faces twisted into frowns.


    "According to our data, he''s capable of minor fleshcrafting. Although we''d expected that his potency in the craft would far surpass what he showed before the cultists, this still goes far beyond our best estimations. Could this be a result of fehl mutation?" The apparent leader wondered. A brief examination showed that Kilian''s bone cocoon was not only harder than diamond, but stronger than titanium, a dreadful combination even in the eyes of those experienced magi.


    Even their armors that could easily withstand 40 mm bullets without recoil didn''t appear that resilient. But if the first time wasn''t enough, what about the second one?


    In tacit understanding, the 42 templars sheathed their knives, and stretched out their hands toward Kilian. Dark purple circles glittered amidst their palms while light particles gathered in purple orbs. Dozens of energy orbs aimed at Kilian''s immobile form, ready to blast his defenses into smithereens.


    *BANG*


    The apparent leader gave the signal, and 42 dazzling, dark-purple beams fired at Kilian''s cocoon, blasting it in a thunderous explosion of berserk forces. Clouds of dust rose into the night sky, but equipped with night vision, the Desolate Knives'' eyes looked beyond the clouds to stare at Kilian''s remains.


    Of Kilian''s striking form, only the cocoon''s bone debris remained.


    "So what if the cocoon provides you with extraordinary defenses? If you can''t move, what''s the point? A pity that we couldn''t bring the body b-" The leader began, initially believing in Kilian''s destruction. Alas, the sound of a drill piercing through the ground echoed from underneath his crotch, and his eyes widened in fright.


    Tapping in his strongest reflexes, the apparent leader attempted to leap out of harm''s way¡ªa futile move. A massive, swirling bone drill nailed the man''s crotch and tore through his power armor to tear him into two gruesome parts.


    Another dust cloud surged as a figure clad in bone armor emerged, and slammed the massive bone-drills that now replaced his arms into the nearest two High Emissaries.


    A step faster, they stomped their feet, triggering a minor explosion as they leaped out of Kilian''s reach¡ªretreating alongside the bow.


    Kilian nimbly landed on the ground, standing between the fallen leader''s two body parts.


    Instantly, confusion broke out among the Desolate Knife troops.


    "Why...why couldn''t we sense his displacement?" The remaining High Emissaries and templars wondered in puzzlement. Pouncing on the opportunity, Lena made her move.


    "Second Circle Spell: Explosive Step!" Propelled by an explosion akin to the one displayed by the High Emissaries, Lena directly appeared amidst a group of six Core Templars, her green eyes shone with a callous glint, and she smashed her balled fists into the ground!


    "Third Circle Spell: Terrestrial Blast!"


    *BANG*


    Cracks spread across several meters, orange light surged from them, shafting into the sky as Lena''s fehl dra erupted in a barbaric explosion. The explosion swallowed the closest six Core Templars, sending them hurtling across the air to tumble several meters away from Lena. Instantly, two High Templars appeared at her right and left, lowering their bared energy knives on either side of her neck.


    *ZZZZZZ*


    But before their blades could reach her rosy white flesh, the grating sound of two drills echoed from their backs, and Kilian''s drills tore through their helmets and brains. Without turning back, Lena glided between his legs, whirled into the air, and dropped on two other Core Templars.


    "Third Circle Spell: Hellfire Claws!"


    Lena''s hands turned into dark-purple, flaming claws and hacked at the two templars'' necks, tearing through their armors, but failing to properly gash their throats¡ªit mattered not.


    Dark-purple flames burst from the two''s scratch marks, setting them ablaze even while their armors melted at a slow pace. A Combination Element of fire and darkness, hellfire''s primary advantage was its relentless persistence.


    Not only did the flames possess extraordinary potency, but extinguishing required tremendous efforts.


    The two templars had barely begun screaming, that the flames calcined the life out of them. Without catching her breath, Lena moved on two other targets. The Core Templars weren''t her match and the High Templars dared not approach¡ªless they suffered Kilina retaliation.


    Thus, in a flash, three more Core Templars lost their lives.


    In desperation, a High Templar attempted to rush toward Jezebel and take her hostage, unaware that all along, Lena had been awaiting such a move.


    Her dra burned to the limit, she turned into a ball of orange flames, and like a meteor, barreled into the templar.


    *BANG*


    Slammed by a brutal explosion, he flew across the sky and landed on one of Kilian''s drills¡ªskewering himself to death.


    One High Emissary, three High Templars, 11 Core Templars, in an instant, the Desolate Knives had lost 15 men, 30% of their effective. And yet, that one arrow that carried the highest threat didn''t fire.


    As they wondered why the bow''s true master had yet to make its move, sweat soaked the five High Emissaries'' foreheads.


    "What is his excellency waiting for?"


    "We can''t waste time trying to figure out his thoughts. That Kilian''s strength isn''t much higher than ours. Without the element of surprise, he couldn''t have killed the vice-captain.


    Gather the remaining templars in a circle, and let''s go for a joint assault! Suppress him, and the battle is over!" The new "leader" ordered, and with the communication chip in his helmet, gathered the 28 remaining templars in a new formation.


    "Third Circle Spell: Desolate Will!" The five emissaries'' lips parted in incantations, 15 red circles appeared at their side, rotating while the spell kicked into gear. But unlike the likes of Klaus, their incantation speed was far too low, requiring at least five seconds to complete a third circle spell.


    The 28 templars raised their left hands, causing large, dark-blue shields to sprout from their gauntlets. Bending in a shield wall, the templars stood ready for Kilian''s assault. Dark-purple energies surged from their shields, forming a protective screen before the nefarious foe.


    As if deterred by the shield, Kilian made no additional move.


    The intensity of the five emissaries'' auras tripled, boosting their strength, speed, and resilience. Desolate magic belonged to the Unique Disciplines, and was the only one whose every spell siphoned the magus'' lifespan instead of dra.


    One third circle spell required 10 years of lifespan, making prolonged use of this discipline a suicidal path.


    With their Desolate Will, in exchange for 10 years of life, the emissaries obtained thrice their battle power for 15 minutes. A sacrifice they''d only resort to in extreme circumstances.


    "Third Circle Spell: Dark Hand!" The five began casting their second spell. But beneath his bone helmet, Kilina''s lips curved into a fiendish grin, and he aimed his right drill at the energy shield.


    In that instant, the 28 templars were startled to see their shields malfunction, and the energy screen dissipate!


    Before they could register the change and comprehend its origins, Kilian vanished, and reappeared before two of the High Emissaries. Driving his drills in forward thrusts, Kilian tore past the armors and skewered their hearts, killing them in a single blow.


    "Rule of thumb, if your spellcasting takes more than one second¡ªdon''t cast spells," Kilian chortled, yanked his drills free of the two''s chests, and turned to face the remaining three.


    Interrupting their casting, they leaped back and raised energy shields to secure their retreat. Splitting focus to maintain energy shields while spellcasting not only lengthened the casting process and increased dra cost, but also required masterful control.


    Therefore, they left that job to the templars¡ªunaware that Kilian now possessed the means to throw their technology into chaos.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Human Fehl Mutant]


    [Age: 18]


    [Magus Rank: top-level Lesser Emissary]


    [Battle Prowess: Quasi Archon]


    [Dra Reserves: 15,200]


    [Knowledge Points: 631]


    [Implants: Lv. 1 Cyberkinesis Chip]


    [Mutation: Stage II Eye of Fehl]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 3 Transmutation]


    ---


    With that Cyberkinesis Chip, unless the High Emissaries put their mind and energies to stopping him, Kilian could take control of even their armors. However, he refrained.


    The reason soon revealed itself.


    As Kilian pursued one of the last three High Emissaries and shattered his defenses to drill a hole through his brain, a whistling sound echoed¡ªand the arrow finally left its string to slam into Kilian''s temple!


    Twisting his head 360, Kilian let the arrow fly past him, leaving a dent in his bone helmet before landing in a distant tree.


    A violent explosion followed.


    But even as Kilian recoiled, the blood of the fallen, templars and emissaries alike trickled toward a single source, drawing a massive glyph as they went. Dark-purple energies surged from the glyph, releasing an explosion of pure occultic forces that shot toward the night sky in a dark-purple column of light.


    As if it''d already calculated his landing trajectory, the spell triggered right underneath Kilian''s feet, embroiling him in the horrible surge of occultic forces. But as the ritual circle blasted Kilian up in the air, a cloaked figure appeared in the sky, dropping alongside hundreds of black spears!


    "Hahahaha, I got you. You can surrender your life!


    Fourth Circle Spell: Shadow Rain!" A hoarse voice thundered from beneath the cloak, and hundreds of shadow spears rained from the sky to skewer Kilian!


    But in the instant they neared his form, Kilian''s lips curled into a maniacal grin, and he vanished in the dark-purple space gash he kept concealed between his back and the dark-purple column!


    Another rift opened right behind the new entrant, with Kilian emerging not in bone armor, but in a staggering obsidian energy armor that made a mockery of his foes'' gears!


    The full might of Kilian''s dra erupted, going from 30% to 100% while a massive orb of sky-blue energies formed between his extending hands.


    "That''s my line," Kilian replied, and the full force of his dra exploded in a gargantuan energy blast!


    With no time to resist, the leader took it point-blank!

 43 Wrathful Hunter

    A result of Kilian transmuting his bone armor into a light power armor, the obsidian energy armor gave Kilian''s physical abilities a massive boost, while also strengthening his energy blasts and weapons.


    The gargantuan blast embroiled the Desolate Knives'' leader, sending him hurtling through the night sky and tumble in disarray. But before the leader''s form could touch the ground, Kilian turned toward the two surviving High Emissaries and 28 templars. Sky-blue dra burst from Kilian''s propulsors, propelling him at thrice his maximum speed to land before the first High Emissary.


    *CRACK*


    Swinging his right fist in a hook, Kilian smashed the armored punch into the High Emissary''s jaw, breaking through his helmet to make him spiral across the air, and blast all his teeth in one go. He crashed on a distant tree¡ªunconscious, but very much alive.


    Faster than his opponents could follow, Kilian vanished to reappear above the remaining High Emissary, slammed his elbow into the helmet, shattering it, and fracturing the emissary''s skull.


    Stomping his foot, Kilian whirled to lunge at the 28 remaining templars, and with a single kick, sent them all spiraling across the air to crash in various locations. Only now did the Desolate Knives'' leader tumble onto the ground, without catching his breath, Kilian charged him with a dra-coated, double punch!


    But as his punches neared the cloaked leader, in an uncanny display of arcane skills, he sank into his shadow and vanished from Kilian''s sight!


    In utter silence, the man emerged from Kilian''s shadow and thrust his fist into his back. Pitch black, shadow spikes emerged from his knuckles, threatening to sink past Kilian''s armor.


    Without looking back, Kilian threw a back kick at his assailant''s fist, smashing into the left side of the blow with his dra-coated, armored foot.


    *BANG*


    In the instant fist and kick met, the propulsors in Kilian''s foot denoted, triggering an energy blast that propelled him forward while pushing his foe back! Landing on his foot, instead of spinning to assess the assailant''s position, Kilian sprinted toward the opposite tree, then backflipped three meters.


    The man''s dual knifehand thrusts nailed his afterimage.


    The two now turned to assess one another.


    "Incomprehensible. With just this level of strength, how can you possess such keen senses, and even warp space? No, there has to be something else. A mutation perhaps? Oh, I see. The legendary Eye of Fehl and its first two forms," the leader hypothesized. Through their exchange, he could see that while Kilian''s strength far outpaced that of High Emissaries, it had yet to reach Archon territory.


    That being the case, to say nothing of warping space, he shouldn''t possess such astonishing reflexes. The only explanation was that underneath his helmet, a third eye hid, with its hue alternating between crimson and dark grey¡ªthe Eye of Fehl!


    Thinking of that possibility, the leader teemed with glee. From the start, unaware of the depth of Kilian''s abilities, he hid in the shadows and used his men as decoys to draw out the full measure of Kilian''s skills. At the same time, he prepared a Sacrifice Ritual to turn the blood of the fallen into a power source ready to detonate at the opportune moment.


    Little did he expect that from the very beginning, Kilian saw through his schemes, and played the lamb to eat the wolf¡ªso to speak. If not for his cloak being a magical artifact, he couldn''t even imagine his current fate. And even then, he''d sustained serious injuries.


    But now, none of that mattered!


    That Kilian wasn''t an Archon, and therefore, couldn''t challenge him!


    "Boy, I admire your aptitudes and skills. The Technocracy''s dominion is inevitable. Arcadia will soon bow to our order. Know that the right choice will open splendid doors to you, and you still have the opportunity to make it," the Archon leader reiterated the previous offer. As far as he was concerned, obliterating Kilian was no difficult task. Capturing him unharmed, however, was a wholly different matter.


    The highest of all fehl mutations¡ªthe Eye of Fehl. If he could bring back such a living specimen, his position in the Technocracy would rise to a brand-new level! Alas, in Kilian''s ears, such an offer deserved only one answer.


    *BANG*


    A spiked knee strike into the face!


    But shockingly, though the spikes pierced the Archon''s flesh, no blood poured forth. Following the initial impact, his face dissolved in a veil of darkness, making Kilian fly across his frame.


    "To think those technocrats would immediately dispatch an Archon. What terrible luck. Breaching the hierarchy of magical ranks is no mean feat. Without Archon level dra control, Kilian might get the short end of the stick," Jezebel remarked with her back resting against a distant tree. Although Kilian''s strength scaled on his dra reserves, an unavoidable condition was that he took his dra control to the next level. Otherwise, his dra reserves couldn''t provide maximum use.


    And while Kilian only stood a step away from the Archon level in dra control, that last step made all the difference. But hearing Jezebel''s assessment, Lena vigorously disagreed.


    "Impossible! If that''s really the case, why didn''t his excellency take us away in a dimensional rift? He must have a plan," Lena countered, standing beside Jezebel with her eyes gleaming confidence. However, Jezebel shook her head.


    "It''s not that he doesn''t want to. The question is, can he?


    Those born mighty often look down on the magical abilities of weaker races¡ªa tragic mistake. The requirements to reach the Archon level ensure that without shortcuts, only those with high aptitude and perseverance can reach that step.


    Especially first generation Archons like this one. Let''s ignore the fact that Archons all possess Arcane Bloodlines. Their dra control enables them to use a unique ability¡ªthe first shackle: the Dra Shackle. Before that ability, regardless of how strong their body is, every non-Archon becomes powerless.


    When all the dra across 100 meters, his included, turns against him, how can Kilian win?" Jezebel rhetorically asked, making Lena gawk in a stupor. Indeed, when faced with such an ability, the odds seemed stacked against them.


    "Fortunately, this one is but a low-level Archon. For someone at his level, using the Dra Shackle will come at a hefty cost. Unless absolutely necessary, he won''t. The hesitation can open opportunities. Opportunities Kilian will never miss.


    But even if he does use it, my Lothario is not entirely helpless," Jezebel pursued, and her lips curled into a mild smile. With the strength of a Fehl Noble or above hidden within his soul, anomalies such as Klaus aside, there weren''t many Archons Kilian couldn''t deal with.


    Of course, tapping in such powers came at a hefty price. Just like his foe, Kilian would rather not use it.


    But even without his Dra Shackle, the Archon didn''t think much of Kilian''s strength. Sinking in his shadow, he vanished in the ground.


    "My Arcane Bloodline was forged on my mastery of Shadow Magic, even without the moonlight, I can use artificial light to cast shadows, enabling me to come and go as I please. My body can also break into shadows at my convenience.


    As a non-Archon, how can you challenge me?"


    The Archon''s voice echoed from all corners of space¡ªor more accurately, from all shadows. Dozens of shadow tendrils rose from the ground to lash at Kilian''s armored form. Dancing across dozens of meters, Kilian slithered his way past the tendrils. With the Eye of Revelation and his own fehl constitution, Kilian''s senses indeed stood leagues above other non-Archons. For him, the tendrils proved no challenge. But as she stared at his moves, Lena wondered why he covered such a vast expanse of land.


    "Third Circle Spell: Dark Hand!"


    "Third Circle Spell: Dark Hand!"


    One voice echoed from two opposed corners, dark-purple circles dazzled the night, and two massive, clawed hands of the same purple hue sprang forth to sandwich Kilian!


    Not bothering to evade them, Kilian folded his arms, and from his shoulder pads, energy cannons sprouted to aim at the Dark Hands!


    *BOOM*


    Dazzling, sky-blue beams erupted from Kilian''s cannons to blast the Dark Hands into light particles. But as they dispersed, four, dark-purple circles appeared above Kilian!


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Hand of Dark Glory!" A massive 10 meters wide clawed hand emerged alongside a matching arm to tumble on Kilian''s form!


    Despite its size, its speed outpaced all Kilian had faced up until now, and beneath his helmet, a frown took form. A move none expected followed. Raising his hands, Kilian summoned the strongest energy shield at his disposal, and withstood the impact of the claw!


    "Imbecile," The Archon sneered, assured of his victory.


    *BANG*


    In an explosion of occultic forces, the hand tore through Kilian''s shield and slammed into him!


    *CRACK*


    The obsidian energy armor collapsed, blasted into thousands of debris.


    Ghastly wounds tore Kilian''s arms, face, chest, and legs. His blood gushed forth, ceaselessly trickling down the ground.


    "Master!" Alarmed, Lena screamed and attempted to rush toward Kilian''s side. But before she could take a step forward, Jezebel gripped her wrist¡ªpreventing her from making her move.


    Kilian''s knees gave out, and he collapsed in a pool of his own blood.


    Emerging from the shadows, the Archon sauntered toward Kilian, stopping only five centimeters away from him.


    "And here I thought you clever. When it really matters though, you turn into a moron. Pathe¡ª" Before the Archon could finish his words, a dark-purple sword tore through his heart, making his blood gush from front and back!


    "W-what? H-how?" Twisting his trembling head as far as he could, the Archon turned to face the source of this stab, and was startled to see a dark-purple construct of pure darkness with 99% similarities to himself!


    The grievously wounded Kilian stood up and gently patted the Archon''s forehead.


    "Morons will be morons. You really think I danced and circled left and right because I wanted to put on a show for your ugly ass? Harebrained fool. You spent so much time cuddling with shadows that your eyes can''t see beyond your nose," Kilian scoffed, and gripping the Archon''s skull, forced him to stare at the ground.


    His eyes widened in disbelief!


    "I-impossible¡­" The blood Kilian shed from the Hand of Dark Glory now formed a massive blood glyph on the ground. Assured of his victory, and blinded by his own shadows, the Archon failed to spot it.


    "From the beginning of our confrontation, my every step drew the glyph across the ground, readying it for my favorite hex: Wrathful Hunter.


    Whoever''s blood you shed will turn into a Wrathful Hunter to pursue you throughout eternity. The more grievous the wounds you inflicted, the more power the hunter possesses¡ªwith 120% of your strength if the victim died at your hand. Beautiful, right?


    Of course, I don''t need to go that far." As Kilian''s words hammered at the Archon''s failing eardrums, the Wrathful Hunter twisted its blade in the prey''s heart, and gouged it out!


    Although Kilian undoubtedly wished to absorb the Archon''s full experience, he dared not gamble with his life.


    Give him one opportunity, and the Archon could unleash his Dra Shackle¡ªthe consequences spoke for themselves.

 44 Lord Urag

    Stripped of life, the Archon''s gored body collapsed on the ground. And in a twister of purple haze, the Wrathful Hunter vanished, leaving Kilian to cram all bodies, dead or alive, in the Hellforge.


    First, he brain-wiped the living through the Experience Refiner, then stacked the unfortunate survivors and fallen as a pile, for later work.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Human Fehl Mutant]


    [Age: 18]


    [Magus Rank: top-level Lesser Emissary]


    [Battle Prowess: Quasi Archon]


    [Dra Reserves: 1,470]


    [Knowledge Points: 8,465]


    [Implants: Lv. 1 Cyberkinesis Chip]


    [Mutation: Stage II Eye of Fehl]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 3 Transmutation]


    ---


    Though killing only rewarded 30% of the victim''s experience, the wealth of experience at an Archon''s disposal ensured that the average specimen went for 5,000 kp. Unless, of course, they were one of those young upstarts of mighty houses or races who reached the threshold without much effort.


    Alas, without a full wipe, Kilian only got broken and disordered memories from the fallen. The braindead 30, however, that was another story. Gathering all the intel, Kilian now knew how and why he faced this ambush. Through various processes, the Technocracy monitored the brain data of all members below Archon level, thereby ensuring even failed tasks would provide them with exhaustive information.


    Only Archons and above stood beyond that process¡ªtheir status ensuring that the Arch Senate wouldn''t subject them to such indignity. By now, the Technocracy already received and processed the intel gleaned from the templars and emissaries¡ªpainting a better picture of Kilian''s abilities.


    Fortunately, templars and emissaries alike saw nothing beyond the first energy blast. With that intel alone, they didn''t have the means to infer the existence of his Eye of Fehl. Otherwise, unfathomable consequences awaited.


    Exiting the Hellforge, Kilian dragged his bloodied, naked form toward the two ladies, and while in other circumstances, the two might have taken the time to enjoy the fanservice. In this one, they had no such intent. And seeing her master torn by such ghastly wounds, Lena felt her heart clutched by an invisible hand.


    "I need you," Kilian knelt before Jezebel and stated without an ounce of playfulness. Understanding his meaning, Jezebel swept his wounds with her amethyst gaze, and heaved a sigh of helplessness.


    Typically, due to his quasi-fehl body, Kilian''s regeneration abilities far outpaced that of the average man. He could also call on his Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting to mend his wounds. Alas, due to its roots in negativity, Dark Magic was one of those Disciplines whose wounds even fleshcrafters couldn''t fix with ease.


    With his current wounds and magical expenses, Kilian probably didn''t have more than 10% of his dra left. Granted that the immediate vicinity hid no threat, but in such circumstances, they would never reach the Imperial Academy in time.


    Only one option remained¡ªdrinking fehl blood! From the Compendium of Species, Kilian learned that the blood of some races carried many mysterious properties. Among them, the fehl blood undoubtedly was the most extraordinary. Useful only to non-fehls, not only could a cup of fehl blood instantly heal all wounds and restore strength, but it could also enhance the drinker''s physique and boost their maximum Dra Reserves.


    However, fehl blood carried two dangers. First, it was highly addictive. Second, it hastened mutations and the descent into fehl beast.


    The higher the fehl''s rank, the better the results. But at the same time, the stronger the drawbacks. Worse, for Kilian, a third consequence awaited. Any instability to his psyche would enable the fehl within his soul to vie for dominion. A situation whose consequences needed no discussion.


    "But, what other option remains? Don''t worry, I will tread carefully," Kilian declared, seeing through Jezebel''s worries. "I know," she replied in kind, and with a subduing smile, stretched her right hand toward him.


    Holding her wrist, Kilian brought his lips down Jezebel''s hand, his human teeth elongated to turn into large fangs, fangs he sank into his first lady''s wrist, draining her fehl blood like a babe would his milk.


    However, when the first milliliter of blood dropped past his throat, even Kilian was forced to admit that he''d underestimated the potency of Jezebel''s blood. Just one milliliter and he felt as if he now walked above clouds higher than mount Everest. His mind sank in an unprecedented high, and he almost lost control.


    With transcendent willpower, Kilian locked the high in a tiny corner of his mind and focused on the blood-drinking. One, two, three...10, 11, 12... 100, 110, 120...150, 170, 200.


    Milliliter upon milliliter, Kilian consumed Jezebel''s red liquor. All along, she never winced or jerked in pain, merely maintaining her gentle, loving smile. At the 200th milliliter, Kilian stopped and pulled his fangs out of Jezebel''s hand.


    Phantasmal blows assailed him from all sides, his eyes went bloodshot, and he arched his head back¡ªtrembling to no end. But pulling in a deep breath, Kilian again suppressed the extreme high and sat crossed legged to sing his meditation chant¡ªthe Gospel of Pandemonium. Following five minutes of meditation, the mental side effects of Jezebel''s blood subsided. At the same time, Kilian sank in his soul, summoned by a call he ignored up till now.


    His eyes opened to the flaming world of his tormented soul. There, a tiny, blood-red creature high of 1.2 meters stood bound in chains. With an angular face, a curved nose, and large pointy ears, the creature would have looked like an imp were it not for its size and massive, bulging muscles.


    Seeing it, Kilian couldn''t help but raise an eyebrow. Not because he looked down on the creature for its size or appearance, but due to an eldritch scent that seemed to swirl around its form¡ªAshera''s scent.


    "Yo, son of a bitch, you finally show your face! Damn, do you know how long I''ve been waiting for you? Fuck, how can you be so heartless? Five months! Five fucking months! I, this great imp lord, have been sealed in your goddamned soul for five fucking months with neither pussy nor booze! How is this viable?!" The imp lord bawled while thrashing against his chains.


    And for the first time in many months, Kilian''s eyes widened in a stupor!


    How could one creature spout so many obscenities in three seconds? Was this truly a Fehl Noble? But as if triggered by the lack of reaction, the imp lord''s eyes narrowed at Kilian, and he stuck out his massive tongue in a childish display.


    "Heeee! What? Cat got your tongue? Faced with the divine presence of this great imp lord, you don''t know what to say? No biggy, now that you''re in the hands of Lord Urag, Mogul of Excess and Debauchery, your life is taking a turn for the better!


    We''re gonna make bitches out of the prudes, and cucks out of all mighty men!


    Wherever we pass, wives will close their legs to their husbands, and sing our names!" Urag threw his head back and howled the words with matchless passion!


    Instantly, even without backstory, Kilian realized why the so-called Lord Urag stood chained in his soul.

 45 When the World is too Small

    Without further ado, Kilian turned heels, intent on walking out. And before the sight of his departing cohort, Urag blinked in disbelief. Would it kill the fucker to show some enthusiasm?


    "Where the fuck are you going?! We''re just getting started!" He bawled in his husky tone. Kilian, however, couldn''t care less.


    "I don''t converse with lunatics," He replied without turning back. The six words threw Urag into full-blown madness, and he threw kicks at Kilian''s direction¡ªor well, attempted to.


    "Lunatics? You say crazies, doofus! Fuck, who raised you? You speak like one hell of a stuck up bitch. I''d cuck you just for that!" Urag snapped, and for the first time in his life, Kilian was forced to admit that he''d come across an enemy his brain couldn''t endure. Spinning 180, he strode toward Urag, daggering the imp lord with a kill-happy gaze.


    "What can I say? I didn''t use to speak like this, but then I met a guy I loathe who schooled me for six years, and I kinda picked it up," Kilian replied and took a swing at Urag''s face.


    "Wait, wait, everything is negotiable. Violence is for cucks. Fuck, violence is for c-" Urag had not finished his "plea" that Kilian''s right fist sank into his nose, initiating a festival of blows that rained on Urag''s punchable face for half an hour.


    *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM* *BAM*


    By the time Kilian got his fill, Urag''s thick face looked like a bloated pig rump. Admiring his artwork, Kilian nodded in approval and again turned heels.


    "Wait, wait! Serious business! Serious business!" Urag called with urgency. And believing that there might indeed be more to this nonsense, Kilian turned to face him.


    "You have five minutes," he stated and crossed his arms behind his back¡ªawaiting Urag''s follow up. Urag cracked his neck, cleared his throat, and raised his blood-red eyes to face Kilian.


    "Hum, hum. Now listen to me. This is the time of your life, the moment you''ve been waiting for, the day of days. Lord Urag is giving you the talk! First, why the fuck is the temperature here so hot?! I''m a fehl, not a cheesecake! Who told you I wanted to melt? Cool your damned soul!" Urag barked his complaints. When Ashera announced she''d seal him in Kilian''s soul, he''d first believed that his long-awaited opportunity for salvation had finally arrived.


    Little did he expect that the damned boy''s soul outperformed the world''s best furnaces! For five months, he burned to no end! What did he do to deserve such treatment?


    But as Urag raged, Kilian maintained a composed exterior, awaiting the five minutes deadline. Seeing that he would get no sympathy from the damned boy, Urag pursued.


    "Let''s make a deal, I''m gonna teach you the legendary art of Eromancy, invented 30,000 years ago by this motherfucker right here! You go catch some hoes, slap me some booty, spread the love, spread the lust, and cool this inferno!


    Even if I cucked Mazdan, I didn''t deserve this shit!" Urag pleaded with tearful eyes. The soul was the mirror of the self. If Kilian got rid of his burdens and learned to enjoy the pleasures of this world, his soul''s shape would naturally change.


    But hearing the name "Mazdan," Kilian couldn''t help but blink in disbelief. Did his ears betray him?


    "Mazdan, Ashera''s eldest? The first of the 66 Fehl Princes. You cucked him?" Kilian couldn''t help but ask. Mazdan''s identity was information he''d gleaned from Jezebel across the past months. The strongest of the Fehl Prince''s, Mazdan led Ashera''s armies in their expansion wars and often didn''t reside in his mother''s court.


    His status in the Fehl Plane only stood below the Overlords''. Who dared green his head? Yet, faced with Kilian''s inquiry, Urag proudly stuck out his chest and flashed a broad grin. Alas, as soon as he recalled the aftermath, his eyes sank, and downcast, he sighed in helplessness.


    "I snuck into the bed of one of his ladies, made her scream my name all night long. Dude walked in unannounced, and expected me to do what? I busted my nut and got the fuck out!


    To save my life, her dominion kept me hidden for centuries. Never did I expect that when I''d finally get out of my golden cage, I''d stumble on you..." Urag lamented, cursing himself for not being cleverer. Obviously, he should have kept the door locked!


    Kilian, however, saw the man-no, the fehl, in a new light¡ªclasped his hands and bowed in admiration.


    "Impressed, I''m impressed." In the Fehl Plane, the Overlords styled themselves "dominion." Therefore, by "her dominion," Urag referred to Ashera, the mightiest of the six Overlords.


    And for Ashera to shield her son''s arch-nemeses, the two undoubtedly had history.


    "Ha, you finally see the light!"


    "Don''t misunderstand, I just respect those who know who to plow."


    "That''s something all right!


    Okay, okay, okay! Boy, it''s time we pop your cherry and teach you true magic! Don''t worry, although your ass is on fire, we will manage! I will shovel the arcanum of Eromancy in your head, teach you the patterns of a few spells to get you started, and once we''re more comfortable, we can have proper lectures.


    Taking you as my disciple is no big deal, no need to kowtow and call me shifu!" Urag proclaimed, and while black lines contorted Kilian''s forehead, esoteric words flew from Urag''s mind to dive into his "disciple''s."


    Kilian might have no interest in seeding the wives of all the Dicks, Clarks, and Harries on his road, but that didn''t prevent him from seeing the worth in Urrag''s art. Magic that enabled the caster to rule through lust could change the destiny of dynasties.


    ¡­


    Exiting the infernal world of his soul, Kilian''s eyes opened to the sight of Lena and Jezebel intently staring at him. And though their appearances wildly differed, he couldn''t help but feel that Jezebel and Urag bore some undeniable similarities.


    "So, did you get a name? What kind of monstrosity did mother dearest seal in your soul?" Jezebel asked, wondering who among Ashera''s many captives now served as Kilian''s extra battery.


    "A certain...Lord Urag," Kilian dragged the words, watching out for any change in Jezebel''s figure. Her eyes widened in disbelief.


    "Oh shit, that''s my dad!" She exclaimed. So great was her surprise that her lips widened in an "O" shape, and she covered them in a slightly absentminded manner.


    *Cough* *Cough* *Cough*


    Unprepared for such a blow, Kilian broke in a coughing fit. Fortunately, he wasn''t on Earth, or police would have had him quarantined for a Coronavirus test!

 46 Racing Toward the Academy

    Although Kilian spotted some faint similarities in the two''s characters, never could he expect that Urag actually was Jezebel''s father. In retrospect, Lena''s heart teemed with envy. With a direct relative already settled in Kilian''s mind, Jezebel now boasted an unquestionable advantage. In the race for the master''s heart, how could she outpace her?


    But as the information swirled in his mind, Kilian''s eyebrows rose in confusion.


    "Not right. He is not strong enough," Kilian reasoned. Although Urag crowned himself Lord, Kilian believed that if a Fehl Lord he truly was, among them, he''d undoubtedly rank at the bottom. Otherwise, even with Ashera''s support, his soul wouldn''t be able to endure him.


    How could he possibly sire one as powerful as Jezebel? With her powers and that dreadful blood potency, at the very least, she''d rank high among Fehl Lords. Perhaps her true strength already stood at the Fehl Prince altitude. With the way Fehl reproduction worked, for a 200 years old Fehl to have such strength and potential wouldn''t be possible without two flawless parents.


    Expecting Kilian''s reaction, Jezebel flashed a smile and replied.


    "My birth process is different from other fehls. In a form of genetic engineering, my mother removed all the lesser characteristics I should have inherited from my father, and replaced them with her traits. Moreover, although Urag ranks at the bottom of the Fehl Lord hierarchy, his seed is unique and multiplies the potential of the children sired by him.


    For that alone, he has always been quite popular among fehl daemonesses. Or so I heard. By the time I was born, he already was my mother''s captive. Apparently, he offended too many people and couldn''t survive without her protection," Jezebel seriously replied. There was only one way to permanently kill a fehl daemon¡ªdevouring.


    Because Fehls'' bodies were made of corrupted dra and magic, they still possessed that one weakness other races could exploit to end the immortal behemoths. However, typically only fehls could endure the consequences of devouring another fehl. For non-fehls, death, madness, or extreme corruption awaited.


    "No wonders. I suppose the apple doesn''t fall far from the tree," Kilian nodded and lowered his eyes on the black-gold, semi-bangle watch adorning his left hand. Rotating a button on the side, Kilian activated a sky-blue screen within which a catalog of stored devices stood. Storage watches were typical commodities of Arcadia''s nobility, with the quality and space available depending on the watch''s cost.


    Kilian''s could store 15 cubic meters. There, among other miscellaneous things, a map of the Arcadian continent stood. Selecting it, Kilian summoned the map and unfolded it on the ground. Thanks to Jezebel''s blood, Kilian had not only recovered 100% of his dra and strength but also saw his reserves increase by 35%. His physical abilities rose tremendously.


    And with 20,520 dra at Kilian''s disposal, resolving the present predicament didn''t require too much effort.


    Kilian''s third, vertical eye opened with the dark-grey hue of Revelation. For one minute, Kilian analyzed the map with scrutiny, establishing both their current location and distance from the Imperial Academy. His eyes then rose from the map, alternating between Jezebel and Lena.


    "This is how we''re going to proceed. Because I can''t take more than one person with me, the two of you will first hide in the Hellforge. I will open a rift to port Erlom, and from then we''ll board a ship for the Imperial Academy," Kilian explained. Even if he could draw a line all the way there, directly rifting to the Imperial Academy would trigger their space distortion radars and ring unwanted alerts. Therefore, they could only pay the exorbitant price of Erlom''s ships.


    The ladies nodded in approval. And after donning a new set of clothes from his storage watch, Kilian turned east. A massive quantity of dra burned in a sky-blue column as he pushed both his Eye of Revelation and Arcane Sight to the limit to draw an accurate path toward Erlom.


    Without the clear line of sight, having never visited it beforehand, Kilian couldn''t rift over there. After consuming 10,000 dra, he mapped the line, and the dark-grey eye turned crimson.


    "Dimension Rift," Kilian uttered, tearing open a three meters long space gash aimed at one of Erlom''s shadowy corners. In tandem, Jezebel and Lena stood up, Kilian pressed his hand on their foreheads, pulling them both into the Hellforge.


    He then dove into the space gash. It closed behind him and reopened in the selected alley of Erlom. Tapping his forehead, Kilian retrieved the ladies, wrapped his hands around their waists, and raced toward the port. Moving at maximum speed, Kilian turned into a wind squall that sent any potential bystander spiraling in the air.


    There was no time to appreciate Erlom''s scenery, and in one breath, Kilian arrived at the port, making his way through the last desperados to buy the remaining tickets. For various reasons, there would always be a few noble scions heading into the Imperial Academy on ship rather than flying vessels.


    Typically, those were the children of counts, houses without the means to own aircraft, and too late to rent one. The ship was their last hope to reach the academy in time. Alas, none was prepared for the announcement that thundered from the massive boat.


    "Due to cabin shortages, ticket prices rise to 2,000 qraftas." The words slammed the cluttered noble scions hard, and for a second, they stood there dazed, not knowing how to process the situation.


    2,000 qraftas. If they had that much available, why would they be here?! In what world could they pay twice the tuition fees just to get to the academy?!


    "Rubbish, rubbish, utter rubbish! From morning to evening, you took less than 30 people! With such a massive ship, how are the cabins full? Although I''ve been waiting here since 6 a.m. you forced me to wait hours upon hours, as you welcomed late entrants! Clearly, you''re looking down on us, and absurdly raising the prices to brush us off!" One young noble snarled in indignation.


    From infancy to maturity, he went through grueling training to ensure he could pass the Imperial Academy''s examination. For his count-level house, 1,000 qraftas was no modest sum. Still, his family paid the fees to ensure his participation.


    Now, before he could even reach the island, a ship blocked his path! How could he tolerate this slight? Alas, the words had barely left his lips, that a lightning ray shot from the ship, and tore through his forehead.


    With a charred brain and burning body, the youth tumbled on the ground, never to rise again.


    Instantly, terror struck all the nobility scions on the scene.


    Murder!


    Before the eyes of more than 100, the ship''s owners dared murder nobility!


    "Preposterous! Who do you think you are? Children of foreign counts, low nobility, and you have the gal to protest before an Imperial Ship? Is this a rebellion? Pass my order, verify the creature''s background, and investigate his house on the charge of treason!" A youthful, overbearing voice thundered from the ship, and instantly, all nobility scions scattered from the docks.


    Indeed, Erlom was the capital of the eponymous principality. The Princes of Erlom all were imperial scions, and while typically, princely titles shifted from one branch house to another, for centuries Erlom''s Princes had maintained a firm grasp on their land.


    The ruling von Skoll, their Erlom branch, and the Imperial Academy jointly managing the ship, trivial foreign count-level scions indeed didn''t have the right to voice their discontent.


    But as the noble scions dispersed, Kilian appeared alongside the now cloaked Lena and Jezebel, walked straight toward the ticket counter, tossed large bundles of banknotes on the table, picked up his tickets, and crossed the stairs. Beside the counter, the floating arcane mirror displaying the banknotes'' count flashed a mesmerizing 6,000.


    The breeze of silence blew on the scene, and nobles and ship guards alike stared slack-jawed at the new entrant, with their stretched, blinking eyes speaking tales of their disbelief.

 47 The Nobility at its Bes

    To say nothing of the ship guards. For the hundreds of foreign nobles on the scene, 6,000 qraftas represented a sum their entire houses couldn''t part with. However, that 18 years old youth tossed them as if they were mere trash. What was wealth? This was wealth. And instantly guards and nobles alike mistook Kilian for a high-ranking noble.


    Or well, almost. As he crossed the stairs leading into the ship, a voice thundered from Kilian''s back.


    "Halt!" A senior ship guard raced across the stairs to catch up to Kilian''s step, while two others that stood at the other end snapped out of their torpor and descended to block his path.


    "My lord, this is no way to handle formalities. Please come with us for the identity che-" The senior ship guard began, and stretched out his hand toward Kilian. Why did a mere guard dare block perceived high nobility''s path?


    Haircut. Having dealt with nobility scions for more than a decade, a simple glance at Kilian''s knotted dreadlocks enabled the guard to see that a high-ranking noble Kilian was not. To say nothing of high nobility, even low nobility wouldn''t sport what the world saw as the unwritten commoner id. Most likely, the youth was some twilight child sponsored by a high ranking noble¡ªor so the guard thought.


    Therefore, until they received the approval of the one inside, he dared not let him. But as the guard''s hand neared Kilian''s shoulder, a small but unshakable female hand grabbed his wrist, and dreadful killing intent slammed him from the side. Unable to finish his words, the guard shivered uncontrollably, not even daring to face the owner of that hand¡ªto face Lena.


    Not that he needed to, with the bestial pressure locking him, he didn''t doubt that the tiniest misstep would result in his demise. Instantly, cold sweat soaked his face.


    "Kilian zu Verden, lord of Ostria. Feel free to use the banknotes to check my master''s fingerprints and identity. But though twilight child he may be, to say nothing of laying hands on him, imperial laws don''t allow you to stand within one meter of his presence without his verbal consent.


    Since you saw fit to break the law, we must break your hand," Lena stated in such a chilling tone that the guard felt the ice creep on his heart and stifle him from the inside.


    *Crack*


    The black forearm guard protecting the man''s arm held no worth under Lena''s grip. Her palms sank past them and into the man''s flesh, crushing his bones in a resounding, snapping sound.


    "AAAAAAAARGH!" He howled in grief, but barely had his screams begun that Lena hurled him across the air, to tumble down the stairs. Groveling before the mighty, condescending to the low. With a glance, Lena could see the type of man they were dealing with.


    His very scent sickened her.


    Undisturbed, Kilian carried on his way, and this time, none dared stop him. The three thus crossed the stairs and stepped into the luxurious ship. With 320 cabins at its disposal, all the size of a presidential suite, to say that the ship lacked space was no different from insulting the prospective passengers'' intellectual quotient.


    Of course, to those inside, that mattered not. Waving his ticket, Kilian produced dark-blue magical lights that led the way toward the matching cabin. The tickets served as both guides and keys. Therefore, the three had no need for a steward''s escort. But as they reached his cabin, Kilian turned to face his girls, and extended their tickets toward them.


    "Here are your tickets. I picked neighboring cabins. Have a good night," Kilian began in a serious tone, making the startled two blink beneath their cloaks.


    "Joking, I''m joking. I wouldn''t abandon you to lonely nights void of pounding after such a troublesome day. Come, Come. Good to know you have your priorities clear," he pursued, causing black lines to stretch the two''s foreheads. It was in moments like these, that Jezebel firmly believed that were it not for Klaus, Kilian could have been quite the troll.


    The cabin''s door opened, and the three dove in, eager to relieve a stressful night with a steamy romp.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, the nobles admitted to the ship gathered in a presidential-suite-like cabin, to enjoy high-end wine and the company of their peers.


    "Hahahaha, the inferior clowns truly believed we had spots open for them? What a joke, if not for his highness gathering us for a bit of entertainment, we''d be long gone," a scornful imperial noble chortled, pulling guffaws from his peers.


    "You can''t blame the fools, the likes of them tend to think that their meager qualifications as nobles make them our equals. The shamelessness of the oafs!" Another one pursued, and again, bursts of laughter followed. For the imperial aristocracy, especially those noble houses at the summit of the Arcadian Empire, the foreign aristocrats were nothing more than oafs. Below the ducal level, none of them had the qualification to breathe their air.


    On the scene, all were direct descendants of imperial dukes or above. Even the foreign royals would have to treat them with courtesy, to say nothing of measly counts.


    "When the Duke of Kars awakens, I hope you can hold the same speech before him," a more cynical imperial noble jested, and instantly silence dropped on the scene. If before, even foreign dukes couldn''t command much respect from those youths, Klaus'' meteoric rise changed the playing field.


    Under the gaze of the Duke of Kars, to say nothing of them, even the nine princes could only swallow their pride. Needless to say, news of his coma brought them tremendous relief, and all hoped that he''d never awaken.


    "Talking about von Karsten, his callousness truly makes a man''s heart shiver. Even his imperial majesty can''t possibly compare.


    Your eldest son and heir is fehl-tainted, so you burn him at the stake. Fine, but your second son and only remaining heir forces himself on an iniquitous barmaid, and you have him flogged to death? How unreasonable.


    I wonder why he''s not been given the father of the year award yet," the cynical noble pursued, reminding his peers of the events that occured about a month after Kilian''s death. Indeed, his half-brother, Florens von Karsten, had also been made an example of¡ªflogged to death for one misdeed too many.


    "You misunderstand. Kars'' law forbids its nobles from damaging functional parts of the economy. Why does Kars possess one of the empire''s strongest economies? Because von Karsten has always made it his priority.


    Noble or commoner, in Kars, those two words hold no value before the duchy''s overall welfare.


    That Florens was quite the fool, why did he have to mess up the bar? In broad daylight at that? Such an heir is better off dead," the one around which all gathered, a nobleman in his twenties, stated without an ounce of emotion. And while his exceedingly feminine looks could make many look down on him, his striking amber eyes silenced contempt before it rose.


    And how could they not, when they reminded the bystanders that von Skoll blood stood before them?


    At that time, the androgynous youth received a briefing of Kilian''s entrance, and his eyes arched in surprise.


    "Oh? A viscount''s twilight child? This is either the sign of unlawful governance, outside help, or of an emerging power. Never mind, if he can pay the fees, he''s worth befriending. As for that guard, execute him. More than two decades in his post, yet he still commits such a basic blunder? He might as well stop breathing," the youth commanded, and instantly, the senior ship guard was taken out for execution.


    A life lived in vain, a death none would mourn.


    The von Skoll youth''s eyes then shifted back on his "peers," sweeping them with a smile contrasting with the contempt buried in his heart.


    "And here they are, the heirs of the great houses, the future of the realm. Heaven blesses Arcadia for the might of house von Skoll, for if we had to rely on this sorry lot, the empire would have long since collapsed from internal and external threats. Your imperial majesty, may you soon return," Tristan von Skoll, heir of Erlom, inwardly said.

 48 The Dream R-18

    While the imperial ship cruised the quiet sea toward the academy, in a floating castle amidst the Imperial City, the very heart of the Arcadian Empire, two youngsters cleaved a bloody road across dozens of valiant opponents.


    In a locked, arena-like platform, with no form of magic powering them, the two hacked their ordinary-looking steel blades at power armors, slicing all their foes with surgical precision.


    One, a herculean youth around 18 with blond dreadlocks and callous blue eyes. More than two meters tall, he dwarfed all his foes with that mixture of culturist musculature and his imposing height.


    The other, a pert young woman with long black hair and a pair of enchanting hazel eyes that bore undeniable similarities to Kilian''s. Though, just like her partner, stripped of their past luster, those eyes only showcased the brutality of a cold, killing machine. In a flash, the two, Bjorn and Tamara, rived the 48 Core Templars opposing them, and turned to face one another.


    More than 2,700 dra, the mid-level High Emissary''s standard, burst from Tamara''s form, challenging the pressure of Bjorn''s presence. In response, 3,600 dra surged from Bjorn''s form, pushing back at Tamara''s display with complete assurance. The collision of their wild, unrefined dra sent dozens of cracks throughout the ground, and alongside the corpses of their victims, painted the picture of long-standing adversaries deciding life and death in a final clash.


    *Clap* *Clap* *Clap*


    Clapping sounds interrupted the ongoing clash, Bjorn and Tamara relaxed and turned to face the source. A bald old man dressed in a silver arcanist robe walked in, sweeping the scene with a smile of contentment.


    "Well done. Across those five months, the two of you have made tremendous progress, and at full strength, are more than a match for low-level High Emissaries. You truly haven''t let down the title of Mahana," the bald technocrat began, without a hint of sympathy for the 48 fallen.


    Indeed, in the Technocracy''s eyes, beneath the High Emissary level, all were expendable. In fact, even High Emissaries were starting to lose value.


    Faced with the technocrat''s praise, Bjorn and Tamara merely bowed in greetings, not speaking unnecessary words.


    "As future senators of the Mahana Division, though your status gives you many privileges, there are duties you ought to shoulder, and things you must prove. Half an hour ago, we received news of an Archon''s loss. Even for us, this is no negligible matter.


    That Kilian zu Verden is clearly a much more troublesome opponent than we anticipated. With all your modifications and upgrades, you are still far from his match," The technocrat pursued. Though in his eyes Kilian was no significant threat, he served as perfect fuel to sharpen his two disciples.


    And indeed, the words brought immediate changes to Bjorn and Tamara''s faces. First, their eyebrows arched up and their lips parted in silent surprise. No need to mention the rest of the team. The ability to slay an archon proved that between Kilian''s strength and theirs, a world of difference still stood.


    Surprise made way for hatred, but while Bjorn''s face merely twisted into a frown, Tamara''s entire body shook in boiling wrath. Thanks to the technocracy''s brainwashing, Kilian was to her what Klaus was to him¡ªthe one to whom she owed all her grief.


    The technocrats firmly believed that no better drive than purposeful hatred, and no sharper blade than a riven heart existed. The empire engraved that bitter lesson in the past Technocracy''s survivors¡ªthe current Arch Senators.


    Striding across the corpses, the bald technocrat, Arch Senator Burkhart von Skoll, better known as Niklas'' uncle, and second highest-ranking elder of the imperial family, scrutinized his disciple''s reactions through his amber eyes.


    Satisfied, he clasped their shoulders, and in his touch, gave them the missing warmth of a doting parent.


    "I understand. To feel the crushing weight of the enemy''s might, the pressure leaving the day of your vengeance in a cloud of uncertainty, undoubtedly sickens the stomach. Engrave the sensation in three places, your mind, your heart, your guts, and let it unleash your full potential.


    The day of their reckoning nears, and you shall play a critical role in the fulfillment of our dream, in the salvation of this suffering world," Burkhart whispered in the two''s ears, but while they both seemed to drink the words, an imperceptible glint flashed in Bjorn''s blue eyes.


    Retracting his hands, Burkhart turned to face Bjorn, and summoned a dark-blue cube which he pressed into his hands.


    "Bjorn, for you are destined to take my place as Arch Senator of the Mahana Division and de facto leader of the Technocracy, it behooves you to complete this grand task.


    Alongside Tamara, you will infiltrate the Imperial Academy, and covetly place the cube in their Main Dra Reactor. We have prepared suitable identities for you, and will directly teleport you into your new roles. Our agents within the academy stand ready to support you.


    But remember, though Kilian will be present, corrupting the Main Reactor is the priority. Unless a flawless opportunity presents itself, do not engage him," Burkhart stressed the final words, reminding the two that failure was no option.


    "Arch Senator, have no fear. We will handle this with discretion," Bjorn replied with a polite bow. Though only five months had passed, Bjorn no longer had any of the vibrant rashness of the past. And with an intellect now far surpassing that of the average man, how else could it be?


    Thus, using one of the Technocracy''s teleportation circles, Bjorn and Tamara departed for the Imperial Academy.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, within their cabin, Kilian, Jezebel, and Lena challenged the thick walls with their throaty moans as they indulged in a mindblowing threesome, and weeded out all pent up stress.


    Naked on a King-size bed, the ladies grinded themselves on either side of Kilian''s erect shaft, making it swell with mating needs, and stain them with dripping precum. But while Lena rubbed her soaked cunt up and down Kilian''s shaft, Jezebel trapped it between her ass cheeks, yet still matched Lena''s grinding pace.


    With flaming-red faces, trickling love juices, and no care for all those that might hear their prowesses, they brought the moaning Kilian closer to the edge. His pulsating cock tensed, announcing its release. Sensing it, the ladies picked up the pace, stroking Kilian''s meat-rod faster in-between butt cheeks and cunt.


    "Oooh¡­" a low grown escaped Kilian''s lips, and he spurted his juice on them both. The largest part splashed Jezebel''s perky butt while the remains ran down Lena''s thigh. Panting with aching needs, the two kissed either side of Kilian''s lips and rolled beside him.


    Jezebel lay above, head resting on a pillow, while Lena stood below, and both cast sly glances at Kilian. Understanding the ploy, he rolled above them two with his cock facing Lena''s luscious lips, and his tongue at the entrance of Jezebel''s nether-fold. Lust and debauchery''s scents pervaded the air as the three entangling bodies brought their play to the next level.


    Spreading her lips apart, Lena took Kilian''s cock into her mouth, bobbing on the head while he kissed Jezebel''s labia, and flicked his tongue across her clit. The slurping sounds of Lena gulping Kilian''s cock soon echoed alongside Jezebel''s throaty moans.


    Ever the artist, Kilian lashed his tongue in his daemoness'' cunt, striking all the sweet spots he''d discovered along the months, while Lena learned all those that made his cock tremble in bliss.


    Coiling her tongue around Kilian''s shaft, and holding on his hips, Lena sucked him faster down her throat, eager to drain all his spunk in one go. Spurred on, Kilian stroked Jezebel''s favorite spot, tonguing the orgasm out of her fehl lips.


    "Oh yes...just like that...yess...ohhh...ohhh...oohhh!" The fehl''s pleasure cries grew more frantic, and clutching Kilian''s hair, she threw her head back¡ªquivering in a toe-curling orgasm.


    At the same time, Lena finally took Kilian''s entire length down her throat and kept his pulsing rod trapped right there. Unable to resist her walls, Kilian spurted another thick load of corrupted spunk down Lena''s throat.


    For a second, the three just lay there, raggedly breathing in one another''s embrace. Then, as if possessed by the Goddess of Nymphomania, Jezebel and Lena bent on all four, luring Kilian''s cock with their inviting cunts.


    Who could resist such invitations?


    ...


    At first, Tristan wished to pay Kilian a visit, but never did he expect that as he neared the doorstep, primal groans and flesh-on-flesh sounds would welcome him.


    Flush with shame Tristan turned heels and never returned.


    Not that he could. Across the four hours long trip, not one second went by without the three mating. Only when the announcement of their impending arrival echoed, did the trio''s rut come to an end.


    A shower, some tidying, and as if nothing occurred, they stepped out of their cabin to leave the ship.


    And as dawn''s trembling eyelids opened to reveal the light of day, the sight of a massive island about 128,000 acres wide welcomed the trio.


    On that island, Arcadia''s number one arcane institution stood, stretching across 30,000 acres of land, with its tallest tower piercing the rising dawn. A kaleidoscopic festival of magical light brightened the island, illuminating its magnificent edifices in sharp contrast with the darkness hiding therein.


    The Imperial Academy finally appeared. And though the goals remained unchanged, the actors no longer were the same.


    But as he peered into the island, wild tremors overtook Kilian''s body. He teetered, and to the ladies'' fright, collapsed on the ground. The Eye of Fehl opened with the dark-grey hue of Revelation, and while Kilian''s hazel eyes shut close, his mind left for new sceneries.


    In that new land, an alternate version of Arcadia, dark-green and magenta clouds competed for dominion over the sky. The fabrics of reality crackled, opening the long-closed doors to foreign planes. Dreams and nightmares leaped from men''s minds to walk the earth and force the entire globe into the thrall of phantasms.

 49 The Crown Prince

    "Someone, something, will open the doors to the Dream and Nightmare Planes. And the critical moment will be here, in the Imperial Academy."


    A blessing or a curse, the ability to witness an unalterable future often ransacked men''s minds with wild bouts of fear. And as his trembling eyelids opened to the light of the real world, Kilian didn''t doubt the precision of his Revelation.


    Oddly, instead of the cold ground, a cushy bed sheet supported Kilian''s back, with a warm blanket wrapping his form. Jezebel lay at his right, while Lena sat at his left.


    "Morning, sleepyhead," Jezebel began, supporting her cheek in her left hand as she stared at Kilian''s face. Seeing her master awaken, Lena''s Hellhound heart teemed with joy, and she pounced onto Kilian, wrapping her arms around his neck.


    "Master!" Lena screamed with glee. Although Jezebel ensured that this was nothing more than a temporary condition, she couldn''t help but dread the worst¡ªfearing that before she could prove her value, her master would vanish from this world.


    "Hum, hum, not that I dislike the show of affection or the comfort of your breasts, but if you bury me under them for too long, even I may not survive," Kilian jested, and instantly, Lena leaped back, smacking her face in shame.


    "I''m s-"


    "You apologize for wrongdoings, I didn''t see any," Kilian cut, preventing Lena from finishing her words. He then turned to face Jezebel, who all along stared at his eyes with her lips curved in a warm smile.


    "Such an angelic smile does not befit a demoness," Kilian jested, and seeing how his way of simultaneously complimenting and cussing remained unchanged, she heaved a sigh of relief.


    "Humph, I''m a daemoness, not a demoness, which de facto makes me a deity. Get your facts straight," the minx snorted in a tone mixing false loftiness and amusement.


    "Humble, just how I like them. How long have I been out for?"


    "Three hours, you missed the whole disembarkment, and an opportunity to befriend von Skoll blood," Jezebel replied, and alongside Lena, proceeded to tell Kilian all that occurred during his blackout. Tristan von Skoll again attempted to pay him a visit but met his unconscious form instead.


    To prevent needless talks, Jezebel blamed it on overexertion and drug abuse mid-sex. Hearing this, Kilian felt a plethora of black lines contort his brows, a frown took form.


    "How many heard that explanation?" A man of clear priorities, Kilian never missed the core point, and as his hazel eyes darted between Jezebel and Lena, the former relished in her move, while the latter dared not face him.


    "Everyone, of course. Due to the disembarkment, we had to give the officials an explanation. To prevent further probes, I even stressed that for you, this is a common occurrence. Fortunately, we weren''t particularly discreet last night, so all bought the words.


    Congratulations, you have not even set foot in the academy proper that you hold the title of number one rake and debauched lowborn student. No need to thank me," Jezebel replied, spinning her head with impish delight. Considering that since they left the cabin, Jezebel, in public, disguised as a man, one could only imagine the current rumors.


    At first, Kilian didn''t know whether to laugh or cry. But then he reckoned that considering his background, such a reputation changed nothing.


    At worst, it would put him in the limelight for 72 hours. Why did he keep his hair tied in dreadlocks when he knew full well the kind of attention it''d draw? Three reasons.


    First, it''d serve as a signal for a certain someone. Second, reminiscence. Kilian''s dreadlocks reminded him of his lost parents, they mirrored Viktor''s style and were tied following Alina''s guidance. Every time he faced a mirror and tied his hair, warmth surged in his chest.


    Third, it didn''t matter.


    As long as the "Kilian" name was followed by "zu Verden," the best he could hope for in the academy was ostracization. The great majority of twilight children came from a commoner background, with only a scant few picked from fallen houses.


    Orphaned nobles often held disturbing claims to land and titles, or carried with them ancestral enmity. Adopting them required too many political considerations. Arcane-gifted commoners, however, brought no such burdens and had nothing to rely on beside their new parent. The choice spoke for itself.


    "Never mind, better to live as Don Juan, than die the Commander," Kilian stated, triggering a wave of confusion in Lena''s mind. It was one of those moments where she wholly couldn''t relate to her master''s words¡ªand if she didn''t know better¡ªwould think him insane.


    "The banquet should be starting as we speak. Let''s go." Without further ado, Kilian stood up, not bothering to discuss the Revelation he just went through. That could wait another time.


    Using a "minor" trick, Jezebel changed her appearance and clothes to a male version, with shorter hair, flat breasts, and narrow hips. This was the appearance she used to face Tristan and the other noble scions mid-disembarkment. Clearly, she''d not forgotten Kilian''s old request.


    But as she stared at Kilian''s back, for the imperceptible split of a second, Jezebel''s brows creased.


    ...


    While Kilian, Lena, and the crossdressing Jezebel headed toward the banquet hall, in the Imperial Island''s most honorable suite, reserved only for the highest-ranking members of the imperial family, a 21 years old man sat on a mahogany throne chair, legs crossed, and eyes shut close.


    Dressed only in turquoise sleep pants that left his slender, but muscular torso wholly exposed, he wore his hairs in short black curls, and even with his eyes closed, bore a striking resemblance to the emperor, Niklas. His eyes opened, showing the amber hue of the von Skoll, and shifted toward a naked woman of great beauty that knelt on the ground, with tears trickling down her face.


    "Ayden, you can''t do this to me! With all the things I''ve done for you, even, even...how can you do this to me?! You can''t! I won''t accept it! I won''t!" She sobbed, and her warm tears tumbled incessantly. Though by seven years his senior, and of incomparably lower status, she''d come to believe that Ayden held unique feelings for her, that one day, they would no longer have to romp in shadowy corners.


    For him, she didn''t hesitate to betray her spouse, and brought him to the brink of death, with his life now in sole control of Ayden. And this vile deed was only one of the many she''d committed to stand by his side. So how, how could he forsake her?!


    But faced with the noblewoman''s protests, Ayden arched an eyebrow.


    "To this point, you still don''t understand? Imbecile, this was just a game, one of the many I play to study human psychology.


    I target noblewomen with doting husbands, wondering if and when they''ll crumble before my looks, honeyed words, and status. So I suppose you can say that I selected your husband, and played with you.


    Each time, I bet a finger on how far they will go for me, and always end up with the same result¡ªmy disappointing victory. Frankly, I had great hopes for you, but you spread your legs far too easily. How difficult is it to not betray the love and trust of a decade? I wonder.


    Anyways, I''ve got all I wanted from you, and your presence now serves no purpose. Oh and by the way, I never touched you. It was all magic," Ayden stated in a distant, inexpressive tone.


    Each word was like a dagger stabbing and twisting the noblewoman''s heart. Her teary eyes widened, staring dazed at Ayden''s matchless face. Seeing this, he shrugged.


    "Don''t give me that look, I never forced you to do anything, your very choices led to this point.


    The times when you could refer to me by my name are over. Hang yourself, put a bullet in your brain, or jump into the Wailing Sea, I do not care. But if you dare waste another minute of my time, or address me with such familiarity, I will have you paraded naked across the Imperial City for the high nobility to feast on," Ayden pursued, and waved his right hand, causing a surge of telekinetic forces to embroil the noblewoman and hurl her past the door.


    Cracking his neck, he stood up, snapped his fingers, and donned a purple-gold wizard robe with the golden-winged-lion crest of the Imperial Academy. Stretching out his hand, Ayden summoned a palm-sized mirror in which several amber-eyed figures appeared.


    "Since his imperial majesty''s collapse, many of the dukes and grand dukes have been making covert moves to strengthen their houses at the expense of the empire.


    We ought to remind the ants that even without the emperor, our von Skoll dynasty can squash each and every single one of them in the blink of an eye.


    On the ground of investigating an assassination attempt on his imperial majesty, I declare Martial Law.


    Dispatch the Golden Army, put all noble houses above marquis rank on a lockdown, ready the NL-97 for long-range nukes, and await further instructions. If anyone dares resist, you have legal authority to exterminate their house," Ayden commanded, and instantly, the von Skoll scions bowed in submission.


    "As you command, your imperial highness!"


    The von Skoll kinsmen vanished from the screen, and the mirror dived into Ayden''s sleeve.


    Turning heels, he walked out the door, ignoring the noblewoman who still quivered, unable to accept reality. Later that day, she hanged herself.

 50 The Banque

    As an event gathering the cream of the Arcadian crop, the banquet stood within the academy proper, in a hall so large that it could easily serve thousands of guests.


    To ease transportation, for this unique occasion, the Imperial Academy had teleportation circles ready in all the guests, prospective, and returning students'' halls, enabling direct access to the academy''s doors. Stepping into the rainbow teleportation circle, Kilian, Lena, and Jezebel, directly landed in the hallway leading to the banquet.


    Naturally, they weren''t the only ones. With only ten minutes left before the celebration''s official start, hundreds of prospective students sprinted as if their lives were on the line, smashing into one another as they raced toward the grand marble white doors. To avoid competing for space with them, Kilian walked at a slow, steady pace his ladies also mirrored¡ªone of the wisest moves of his life.


    As the racing nobles neared the door, dazzling white light surged from it, sending them all rolling back to the hallway''s entrance. Kilian''s group sidestepped to let the nobles run their course and reached the threatening door without casualties. Even before they could stretch their hands toward it, the door opened wide.


    Kilian walked in, and his eyes landed on the largest gathering of aristocrats he''d ever witnessed since his arrival on Arcadia. Under bright chandeliers, across a vast expanse of room, thousands of nobles of all ages and various statuses exchanged pleasantries and wine glasses. Some discussed the new coliseum in the Imperial City where slaves and death row commoners wrestled for a slim hope of survival.


    Others wondered how and why Duke Klaus and Emperor Niklas simultaneously collapsed in Kars'' very castle. Rumors of a love affair between the 160 years old emperor and the 42 years old duke abounded, with others going as far as claiming that assassins used their lovemaking as an opportunity to strike them down.


    Naturally, those who dared whisper such words were rash and vain noblemen with too much power, wealth and free time on their hands. Various topics flowed, from magic-centered discussions to mundane gossip. Kilian ignored it all and looked past most of the aristocrats to spot several familiar figures, noble scions he''d met during his six years with Klaus.


    Children of marquises, dukes, grand dukes even. On them, Kilian didn''t linger more than three seconds, moving on as soon as he recalled their names. This stopped when his eyes landed on a noblewoman around 18 with fascinating sapphire-colored eyes and wavy, ink-like hair matching her von Karsten lineage.


    Dressed in a simple black dress, many would have mistaken her for some sort of upstart if not for the circle of noble scions, men and women alike, seeking her attention. But while her beauty spoke for itself, it naturally couldn''t cause such a commotion. No, her status handled that.


    Anke von Karsten, niece of Klaus von Karsten, sole grandchild of the Grand Duke of Rulweil, and heir of Kars and Rulweil. The Grand Duke of Rulweil wasn''t merely the most powerful duke of Arcadia, he also ranked among the nine known Exarchs. In fact, Arcadia didn''t have any other Exarch not surnamed von Skoll.


    Through skillful marriage deals and Niklas'' secret help, Klaus managed to make Anke the old duke''s only eligible heir. Initially, he meant to have her wed and support Kilian. Alas, the fehl taint crushed those plans, and even before executing his second son, Klaus made her his new heir.


    Cold, reserved, cruel, unforgiving, possessive and opportunistic. Though most remained fooled by the first two, having seen her at her worst, Kilian could name all her "qualities" in a heartbeat. But oddly, as his eyes laid on her, Anke spun, and her eyes crossed hundreds to lock on his. For a second, Kilian shouldered her gaze, then alongside Jezebel and Lena stepped toward their assigned tables.


    Both noted the exchange.


    "A new addition?" Jezebel asked in a jesting tone, while Lena wondered how to counter a potential harem girl.


    "More like someone I will probably have to kill. Though, I first need to figure out what exact role we play in the chessboard of Klaus'' Redemption, and how to break it," Kilian replied, stretching both Jezebel and Lena''s eyes with clouds of confusion. Clearly, the relationship between those two wasn''t that simple.


    Past events trotted in Kilian''s mind, pictures of his time in Kars, the coldness of the ducal palace, and the alienating warmth of Klaus'' devoted teachings. If there were no Viktor, no Alina, no burning of his tribe, no Eye of Fehl, how different would their relationship be?


    What kind of man would he now be? He calmly wondered.


    At that time, a young man walked in, dressed in the purple-gold wizard robe of the academy''s highest ranking students. With imperial blood evident in his traits, he''d not even taken three steps in, that the entirety of the aristocracy turned to face him. If they sat they stood up, whatever their hands held, they dropped, and in tandem, bowed to welcome Ayden''s entrance.


    "Greetings, your imperial highness!" Hundreds of aristocrats hailed the Crown Prince of Arcadia, but royally ignoring them, Ayden moved toward the three aristocrats most prolific in spreading rumors about the emperor''s sexuality.


    "Is it fun?" He began, startling the three imperial dukes who didn''t understand the words.


    "Your highness wh-" one of the three formed the start of an inquiry, but using his right index, Ayden silenced him with a *shush* and flashed a gentle smile.


    "I ask again, is it fun? To openly, wantonly mock and spread groundless rumors about your monarch''s sexuality, amidst hundreds of Arcadia''s most noble, at that. Is it fun?" Ayden reiterated his question with eccentric glee.


    Silence dropped, dozens of nobles subconsciously backpedaled, the targeted three broke into cold sweat, and for an instant, even breaths didn''t dare leave lips.


    "D-don''t slander us! Even if you''re the Crown Prince of Arcadia, you can''t make such ground-" the one directly facing Ayden started a counter, but outpacing him, Ayden summoned a recording mirror that replayed the scene of the three gossiping about Niklas.


    Their hearts almost leaped from their chests!


    "Don''t know how to answer? I will help you. It was fun! Hilarious even, otherwise, how would you dare? No one''s that stupid. Haha, it ought to be the funniest joke on the market of how do I laugh to death!" Ayden chortled, and gently tapped the three''s cheeks.


    Registering the threats in his words, they let their dra explode!


    "Although we rank at the bottom of the list, as Imperial Dukes, all three of us are Archons¡ªcornerstones of the Arcadian Empire¡ªleaders of ancient houses! Just because you assumed the regency, you can''t threaten us!" Bawled the leader among the three dukes.


    Amused, Ayden stepped back and twirled on one foot.


    "Right, right! You''re absolutely correct, I''m out of line, apologies," Ayden replied, suppressing the anxiety in the three''s hearts. Although they all were but the weakest type of Archons, Archons they still were. With the emperor in an uncertain state, a 21 years old prince should show them respect, or so they were starting to think.


    "Though, I just remembered one thing. He''s the Emperor of Arcadia, the sovereign ruler of three billion! Even if he screwed your fathers you''d have to shut up and take it much less spread the tale!" Ayden had barely reeled off the words that his right hand bent into a knife shape, and swept at the three''s necks¡ªlopping their heads off their necks! Their blood erupted like rivulets leaping toward the ceiling, smearing Ayden''s divine figure in a thick red.


    "AAAAARGH!" Dozens of screams surged from left and right. But his smile unchanged, Ayden spun to face all the aristocrats.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, please don''t allow me to ruin the festivities. Just remember this one thing. Arcadia only has one ruling family, its name is von Skoll, and it doesn''t tolerate any insult to its monarch''s dignity.


    Have your fun, but do remember the limits, unless of course you''re dying to die by my hands¡ªpun intended," without further ado, Ayden turned heels, and walked out of the banquet hall.


    As a purple-gold student, his presence indeed wasn''t necessary. But while the rest soaked in their stupor, Ayden cast a furtive glance at Kilian, winked with his right eye, and left the scene.

 51 Imperial Examination

    "Old flame?" Jezebel asked, never missing an opportunity to submit Kilian''s sexual orientation to the test. But on this one occasion, even Lena held some doubts.


    "Considering that you''ve been with me since I landed in Ostria, if I ever diddled Arcadia''s future monarch, you''d know," Kilian leisurely replied. Still, his brows creased at Ayden''s move. Never once did it cross Kilian''s mind that Arcadia''s crown prince was merely making eyes at him. But since he couldn''t figure out the why, he didn''t dwell on the matter.


    Meanwhile, Ayden''s departure didn''t ease the breaths of the floundering nobility. Music no longer flowed, and wine stood far from the aristocrats'' lips. On the scene, even among the imperial dukes, many couldn''t digest the fallen three''s fate. And who could blame them?


    "To behead three low-level Archons in one move, on strength and speed alone, he is a match for mid-level Archons. Although his magical abilities should still stand at the top-level High Emissary rank, his Dra Control has probably reached Archon tier. Strong, very strong¡ªfor a High Emissary, that is," Jezebel remarked. And indeed, similar appraisals kept those dukes and even magi whose magical prowesses currently surpassed Ayden''s, on tiptoes.


    If he already was that strong now, how far could he go in the future? Many couldn''t help but see in him a new Klaus. But while the von Skolls delighted in having such a reliable heir apparent, the aristocracy certainly didn''t relish in the rise of another invincible monarch.


    Only a few remained undisturbed. Kilian, Anke, and other nutcases or individuals whose strength allowed them to maintain their cool. Again, the marble door opened, this time announcing the entrance of four men dressed in platinum-colored robes. Immediately, they snatched all attention.


    "Arcanist robes," Kilian noted. Coated in zuri alloy and strengthened by enchantments, arcanist robes not only boosted spell-power, but also enhanced physical abilities. Throughout the Imperial Academy, department chairs and the headmaster aside, none had the right to wear such robes. The newcomers'' status was thus evident.


    At their helm, a wrinkled old man with shoulder-length grey hair and the amber eyes of the von Skoll stood with an amiable smile. Hanns von Skoll, headmaster of the Imperial Academy, and Niklas'' little brother. Though by 40 years Niklas'' junior, because human Archons only had 200 years of lifespan, the 120 years old Hanns looked old enough to be the emperor''s father.


    Ignoring the three corpses and the pool of gore they formed, Hanns walked up the stand, and alongside the three department chairs, turned to face the gathered aristocrats.


    "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Imperial Academy. Please return to your seats," Amplified by sound magic, Hanns'' voice thundered throughout the hall. None dared delay. Per custom, the von Skolls didn''t rank on Arcadia''s official Archon list. However, that never stopped them from proving their strength. Ranked among the three strongest known Archons of Arcadia, many believed that in a few decades, Hanns would rise to the Exarch rank and leave the headmaster position to another von Skoll Archon.


    Once the thousands of guests occupied their respective seats, Hanns nodded in approval, and carried on, "As you know, this banquet is no mere celebration, but testing grounds for who among this years'' 3613 applicants will officially join the academy."


    The academy''s non-refundable 1,000 qraftas tuition fees had no use besides granting access to this banquet. Wealth alone could not open the doors to Arcadia''s number one arcane institution. Then again, without the resources of the high nobility, how many could succeed?


    "The test is divided into two and is quite straightforward. First, we shall appraise your scientific knowledge, reaction speed, and logic. Those that score less than 85 at any of these problems, can not move on to the next part. Make no mistake, cheating is impossible, and if for any reason you purposely give the wrong answer, we will know," Hanns pursued, and waved his hand, causing a 30 centimeters long piece of sky-blue paper to emerge from a magical circle.


    On the paper, all could see esoteric glyphs glittering and intertwining without any clear order. Still, none appeared startled.


    "This test paper will fire different questions at your brain, you have five seconds to give a mental answer, after which it will collect the answer and give you the next question. The final question aside, each candidate faces a different set. A total of 100 questions and 500 seconds, do your best." The words had barely left his lips that Hanns snapped his fingers, causing the test paper to fire 3613 sky-blue rays at the applicants'' foreheads.


    From integrals to thermodynamic equations, Kilian faced dozens of questions that put Klaus'' teachings to the test. None required more than one second. In fact, among the learned scions of high nobility, only the logic part proved a true challenge. Kilian''s unstoppable winning streak carried on until the 100th question appeared before him.


    "What will destroy the Arcadian Empire?" A dangerous question, but if the examiners dared ask it, they weren''t looking for blanks. And indeed, unlike the precedent ones, a little note followed this question.


    "Here, there is no right or wrong. The answer needs only be logical. However, leaving a blank or illogical answer leads to automatic failure of the entire examination." Faced with a five second timeframe and such a statement, most would instantly blurt out their thoughts. As an institution serving the empire''s interests, the Imperial Academy didn''t mind using such methods to collect feedback.


    "The imperial family''s power.


    For 3,000 years, the Arcadian Empire dominated this continent. The four tributary kingdoms of Orloth, Sogard, Drucia and Nargoz saw the continued rule of the same dynasties, because the Emperors of Arcadia always guaranteed their crown.


    The empire is a castle built on bubbles. So long as house von Skoll''s might stands, the Arcadian Empire stands. But at the first sign of weakness, the suppressed aristocracy will gnaw this realm to pieces, and open the door to the three threats'' invasion," Kilian mentally replied, and so completed his examination.


    The Chiropteran Dynasty, the Wailing Sea, the Undying Horde, those were the three ancestral threats humanity faced since the appearance of magic. Before magic, an impenetrable cloud screen prevented anyone from going beyond Arcadia. Therefore, none knew what lay outside. But following the birth of the magical arts, the screen vanished, enabling those monstrous forces to lay waste on humanity.


    Now called the Age of Dark Shadows, the exact events spanned across those centuries and weren''t properly documented. However, it all ended with the rise of house von Skoll, and the mysterious retreat of the invading forces.


    Although the average answer time rate varied per examinee, the test paper didn''t send the following question before the five second deadline ended. Thus, all finished at about the same time. But while some remained confident, the vast majority of the examinees breathed through chattering teeth. Needless to say, those were doomed.


    A large blue screen appeared above Hanns, showcasing the results of every single examinee. The ones with a score below 85 had their names crossed by red marks, and the details of their failures sent right back at their brains. 54 names remained, with three holding the first place:


    Kilian zu Verden, Anke von Karsten and Carmen von Draken.


    "Oh? A 1.5% rate of success? Good seedlings," Hanns remarked with no hint of mockery. Typically, though the students all came heavily prepared, only 1% passed the examination. This year''s result spoke for themselves.


    Meanwhile, thousands of prospective students and their relatives lowered their heads, sighing at their failure. Still, none dared contradict the academy. As for the 54 successful examinees, they didn''t appeared surprised.


    "Next, the Dra Root testing."


    *Clap* *Clap* *Clap*


    Following Hanns'' hand claps, an altar rose from the ground, with a ritual circle engraved on its surface.


    "We will call you by alphabetical order, and have you place one hand on the altar to access your number of Unlocked Dra Roots and Innate Attributes. While we don''t have requirements for attributes, those with less than three roots will still have to return home." Hanns'' words triggered no commotion. For the gathered individuals, this part of the testing was nothing more than a formality. All knew how many unlocked roots they currently had, and what attribute they were born with, if any.


    Regardless of their race, all souls contained 48 Dra Roots that defined magical talents. But in the vast majority of commoners all 48 Dra Roots remained locked. The number of Unlocked Roots was one of the many requirements to progress on the magical path.


    One for a Lesser Emissary, two for a Core Emissary, three for a High Emissary. But while magi could unlock more roots throughout their lives, with a starting point of zero, learning magic was impossible.


    At the same time, those with unlocked roots but no Innate Attribute would typically become templars or magi of a unique niche. Still, the latter often couldn''t go beyond the High Emissary rank.


    "Walther von Baader," a department chair beside Hanns called, and the examinee rose to step toward the altar. Without hesitation, he placed his hand on the ritual circle, triggering a flash of sky-blue light.


    A dra-made quill appeared and wrote the words "Walther von Baader, three Unlocked Roots, Fire Attribute" above Walther''s head. Unsurprised, he bowed toward the headmaster, and returned to his seat. Thus, students succeeded one another, with only a scarce few showing more than three roots.


    "Carmen von Draken, seven Unlocked Roots, Water and Wind Dual Attributes." When this result appeared, for the first time since the Dra Root testing began, thousands stared slack-jawed at the examinee, a mesmerizing young-woman around 18 with back-length, black and silver hair worn in a sleek hairstyle, and wispy bangs that framed her forehead.


    But if the hair color looked uncanny enough, her silver eyes spoke of "tasteless" genetic modifications or impure human blood. All those aware of her background leaned on the latter. And unfazed by her results, she returned to her seat.


    "Carmen von Draken, daughter of Erik von Draken, the King of Orloth. Her mother is half eldar," Kilian told Lena who failed to grasp the reason for the aristocrats'' stupor.


    "Granted you have Innate Attributes, with three unlocked roots, becoming a High Emissary is just the starting point. With nine, becoming an Archon is now the starting point. At seven, we can say that within 40 years, she will become an Archon¡ªa rare talent." With Kilian''s explanation, Lena finally understood why all appeared so shocked.


    Archons formed the highest rank most aristocrats could aspire to. Throughout Arcadia, all looked up to them. The sight of a peer pretty much destined to reach that step left many noble scions short of breath.


    But when Anke''s turn followed, they almost lost their mind.


    "Anke von Karsten, nine Unlocked Roots, Holy, Fire and Lightning Attributes." As expected of an Exarch''s grandchild, Anke didn''t let down either Klaus or her grandfather''s name. And after remembering what houses she hailed from, many felt their stupor subside.


    This went on until Kilian''s turn arrived.


    "Kilian zu Verden."


    Without delay, Kilian stood up, but Jezebel''s voice came from his right.


    "Are you not afraid of creating too great a commotion?" Having personally tested Kilian''s roots, Jezebel inquired.


    "It''s fine, my results cancel out. It won''t last," he replied and stepped toward the altar.


    Like all the others, Kilian placed his right hand on the altar, triggering the same flash of blue light. The quill appeared and wrote above his head:


    "Kilian zu Verden, 36 Unlocked Roots, no attributes."


    And so the hall fell to the greatest silence in the history of Dra Root testing, with thousands of popping eye pairs, Hanns'' included, staring at the words above Kilian''s hair as if the incarnation of nightmares stood before them.

 52 Destiny Makes a Joke of Talents

    When Kilian''s name first echoed, not many paid him heed. The "zu" particle ensured that most didn''t even bother glancing at him. But curiosity being such an overbearing mistress, all still looked at his result.


    "36 Unlocked Roots, no attributes."


    Jealousy or scorn? As they stared at those five words, the aristocrats didn''t know what stance to adopt.


    "Fate does make a joke of talents. Though perhaps, this is for the best," Hanns sighed and shook his head in disappointment. In the history of Arcadia, only two people ever showed more than 18 Unlocked Roots, and amusingly, both had 36.


    First, Reinhold von Skoll, the fallen Crown Prince, and Klaus'' true self. Second, Kilian.


    But while Reinhold possessed seven Innate Attributes and died at seven, Kilian possessed none. That being the case, regardless of Unlocked Root quantity, he couldn''t go beyond the High Emissary rank¡ªor so they thought. If not for that assurance, Hanns would now be preparing his murder.


    In fact, Kilian did possess one attribute, the Fehl Attribute that englobed all others. But because Fehl left no trace, the altar couldn''t detect it. As long as he showed even one Innate Attribute, Kilian knew he wouldn''t survive the day. But with none? His magical aptitudes would simply turn into a recurring joke.


    "Without at least one attribute, the creation of Elemental Crystals becomes an extreme challenge. When others will take a year, he will need ten. Worst, he will never be able to condense Greater Crystals. What a pity," Carmen von Draken, who like the others observed Kilian''s results, sighed in genuine disappointment. Yet, as a compulsive gambler, she couldn''t help make a silent bet on Kilian''s uncertain future.


    The initial torpor made way for a mixture of relief and silent mockery. Ignoring it all, Kilian returned to his seat.


    On the scene, there wasn''t one individual without at least three Unlocked Roots. Knowing the academy''s recruitment criteria, no examinee would show up without at least the unlocked root requirement fulfilled. In the failures'' eyes, Kilian was no better than them. At best, he''d become a High Emissary.


    A few more examinees succeeded one another before all 54 had their roots and attributes tested.


    "So ends the annual banquet and examination. Guests and rejected examinees will now have to leave the island. As for you, the successful 54, welcome to the Imperial Academy," Hanns declared, thus marking the end of the gathering. Hundreds of imperial guards entered, motioning for the guests and rejected examinees to follow them out of the academy. In orderly fashion, the aristocrats departed, leaving behind the 54 and their servants.


    "As new students, you will all receive a brown robe. Here, students are not ranked by years and seniority, but by the robes they wear. The brown robe is the only one with neither enchantment nor protection abilities. Once you pass the Lesser Emissary examination, you can get a silver robe," Hanns explained and vanished in swirling red light.


    From lowest to highest, the Imperial Academy ranked its students as brown, silver, black gold, white gold, and purple gold. Only those that obtained the white-gold robe before 30 could officially graduate. Others left empty-handed.


    Following Hanns'' departure, the three department chairs led the new students on a tour of the academy''s facilities, at the end of which all received their robes and assigned suite keys. With less than 2,000 students, the majority of which had been there for years, the academy provided a suite for each noble scion depending on their robe-color. The browns'' naturally were the worst.


    The students then had to register for their majors and pick their classes, with various choices depending on their Innate Attributes and score results. As expected by many, besides the mandatory courses, Kilian chose Technomancy as his major, and Flesh Sculpture as his minor. For the power-craving aristocrats, those were well-known, dead-end choices.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, in the comfort of his suite, Ayden received news of the testing''s results alongside Tristan and a young lady with identical looks to the latter.


    "36 Unlocked Roots? Ha, overkill. You don''t even need that many to become an Exarch. Could have been fun if not for the zero attribute thing. Oh well," Ayden jested while pulling the young lady, Estrella von Skoll, closer toward him.


    "Ayden, you always take things too lightly. Fortunately, we have Tristan to worry about serious matters," Estrella, Tristan''s twin sister, replied without resisting Ayden''s embrace.


    Used to seeing the two act so intimate, Tristan merely browsed the recording mirrors'' various news.


    "Although his magical future doesn''t look promising, he''s the only remaining heir to Ostria''s growing wealth. That Celestial Garden sure is a profitable business. His test results also show a sharp and hardworking man. No harm in pulling him to our side," Tristan chimed in. Having done his homework on Kilian, he knew of his "full" background, and bond to Olaf. Needless to say, the info at his disposal had been prepared by Kilian.


    "You know the saying, the best money is dirty."


    "There is no such saying."


    "I just invented it. By the way, book me a room and let''s ditch a week''s worth of classes in the arms of those so-called goddesses," Ayden gleefully replied while pointing his left index at the flushing Tristan.


    "Watch your language! You''re the crown prince, not a slumlord! Also, didn''t you have enough fun with your last wench?" Before her flustered brother could answer, Estrella shoved Ayden away, and snarled in irritation.


    Undisturbed, Ayden pulled her back into his arms.


    "That''s how you know I failed my orientation. And since when do you care about those women?" Ayden countered. Having never kept any secret from his beloved Estrella, she naturally knew about all his experiments. But before, never showed much care. What changed?


    "Nonsense, who wouldn''t care? I''m just tolerating them!" She snorted for emphasis and turned her head away from him.


    "Alright, alright, no new wench for a year."


    "Five!"


    "Two, just because I love you to death."


    "Four!"


    "Three, and I won''t go any higher," Ayden ended the auction in a non-negotiable tone. And defeated, Estrella dropped on his lap. Feeling extra, Tristan readied to step out, but suddenly, a frown twisted Ayden''s matchless face, and all amusement vanished.


    "I''m afraid we will have to shorten this little gathering, Estrella dearest, I will see you later," Ayden stated, kissed Estrella''s forehead, and rushed out the door, leaving behind a duo of perplexed twins.


    ¡­


    Following a succession of teleportation circles'' Ayden''s hurried steps led him to the headmaster''s office. There, Hanns stood beside a cloaked man, back bent in a deferential posture. For the Headmaster of the Imperial Academy, not many deserved such a stance.


    But as soon as Ayden walked in, Hanns walked out, and even without seeing the man''s face, Ayden bowed in greetings.


    "I didn''t expect your visit. Please forgive me g-" Ayden began, but before he could finish his words, the cloaked man snapped his fingers.


    Red light shone in Ayden''s eyes, and for an instant, he stood there, bent in an awkward bow. The light dispersed, and though on the outside, no visible change occurred, Ayden straightened his back, and with none of the previous politeness, stared at the cloaked man.


    "What do you want?" Ayden asked in an unwelcoming tone. Undisturbed, the cloaked man turned to face him, but though the hood kept half his face concealed, it couldn''t hide the many wrinkles left by centuries of life.


    "That''s my line. What do you want, Niklas? For nearly 100 years, the Technocracy has been seeping the various echelons of Arcadian society. Even within our house, they have many agents, and though the true nature of their plans remains a mystery, they''ve recently been making atypical moves," the cloaked old man started in a deep, imposing voice fit for a mighty monarch.


    "50 years ago, believing that you had more than enough strength to shoulder its weight, I abdicated my throne and focused on investigating the technocrats. But what do you do? On a moment of impulse, you used a Sixth Circle Spell. That''s terrible enough, but worse, before you could suffer the rebounds, your opponent threw the spell back at you.


    Without months of hard work, we can''t awaken you. And for what? The right to become Arcadia''s laughing stock? Now, the empire has no monarch. Emboldened, who knows what moves the Technocracy will make?" Marcel von Skoll, the previous emperor, rebuked the Niklas that hid underneath Ayden.


    Yet, faced with his father''s reproach, Niklas only sneered.


    "You who have thirteen children, how can you understand? Klaus is my child, my life, my everything. I rediscovered the meaning of joy when I first held him in my arms and lost it when he left. The entirety of Arcadia cannot amount to a strand of his hair, and never will I forgive anyone that dares threaten him. Especially not her!


    As for the technocracy, let them come! I shall succeed where you failed and erase this scourge once and for all!" Niklas snarled, and again a red glow flashed in Ayden''s gaze, reverting him to his true self.


    "G-grandfather¡­" the slightly confused Ayden finished his previous words, once more bowing at Marcel.


    "I just wanted to see how you handled the regency, and give you this warning," Marcel stated, and with a fling of his dra, tossed a piece of blue paper at Ayden''s hands. There, Kilian''s test answers stood, with the final one highlighted in red.


    The more they read, the more Ayden''s eyes stretched.


    "Impud-"


    "Truth," Marcel cut Ayden''s textbook reply.


    "We built the Arcadian Empire as a castle on bubbles, a beast of glass. Its survival relies entirely on our stability. We von Skoll hoard the highest technological secrets, the most destructive magical arts, the most advanced arcane knowledge, and hold 90% of this realm''s military might.


    70% of Arcadia''s known Archons are surnamed von Skoll.


    99% of the known Exarchs are surnamed von Skoll.


    Arcadia stands if we stand, and falls if we fall, but the aristocracy has forgotten this truth, forgotten the foreign threats, and blindly looks for the means to increase their benefits.


    Since they''re so foolish as to capitalize on Niklas'' fall, let''s help them.


    Stop threatening the whelps, let them bark. Have your brothers coordinate with you to create an impression of strife among imperial princes. Feign weakness, and allow them to bare their fangs. It is time we destroy the nobility as a landed class, strip them of their ancient rights, and confine their leaders to the Imperial City.


    Do not fail me, and you might yet rule Arcadia. As for the one with the mind to write these words, groom or destroy him. Though it is high time you surround yourself with more than tomboys and tomgirls, if you can''t tame the man, erasing him is the safest bet," Marcel proclaimed and vanished in swirling red clouds.


    Left alone, Ayden slumped his shoulders, sighed and walked out, aware that in the coming months or years, blood storms would sweep the land.


    ¡­


    In the meantime, after settling in his suite, Kilian dove into the Hellforge, facing the pile of top-notch corpses awaiting his touch with an atypical, eerie smile. Lilac-colored mist akin to Jezebel''s aura surged from his pores, making his eyes gleam in the same hue. And with silent, measured steps fit for a predator, Kilian advanced toward his material.


    "Now, now, let''s get to work."

 53 Song of the Blood Seraph Part 1

    "Kilian went mad," Jezebel affirmed, with her back and shoulder slumped on an oak table, and her chin resting against the back of her hand. The words rang in Lena''s ears with no trace of ambiguity, and while she inwardly wished to oppose them, with the subtle changes she''d picked on across those two weeks, she had to agree.


    "It''s my fault, I should have seen it coming. Back then I let him drink my blood, thinking that with his willpower, Meditation Chant and focus, he would overcome the side effects. And he did," Jezebel began, tapping the table with her left fingers.


    "Unfortunately, long-before he could fully digest the blood and erase all side effects, he suffered a Revelation¡ªthus getting weakened to the point the lingering blood could seep into his brain.


    On the one hand, it made him even stronger, on the other hand, it corrupted his mind, and threw him on the path of extreme decadence," Jezebel was no alarmist, if Kilian had not already fallen into dire straits, she would never hold such a conversation. Knowing that, Lena clutched her thighs.


    "Is there nothing you can do to stop it?" She inquired. Though currently weakened, Jezebel''s knowledge on fehl matters exceeded all theirs. And even if they could find someone else, did they dare bring in outsiders?


    "For a mutant to descend into decadence-driven madness is a natural process. Even without my blood, with the Eye of Fehl on his forehead, that day would come sooner or later.


    Now we only have three roads. First, he starts drinking my blood in small doses. It will help him regain control while making his strength rise at a much faster pace. But if we choose that option, in less than three months, Kilian will become a daemon. No way around it." Consuming a high-ranking fehl''s blood was the most common way for rising to daemonhood.


    In fact, all rituals and contracts leading to fehl ascension involved fehl blood. But while many would kill for the opportunity, Jezebel knew that for now, Kilian had no such intent.


    "But upon ascending to daemonhood, Kilian''s body will collapse and rematerialize into the Fehl Plane. Even with his Eye, getting back won''t be that simple. And when he does, depending on how strong he became, the Mortal Plane will start shackling him.


    As for the other roads, either Kilian figures it out, or endures long enough for me to recover enough powers to cleanse his brain and psyche." The words brought Lena no comfort, and biting her lower lip, she stormed out, abandoning Jezebel to lonely sighs.


    Meanwhile, Kilian endured the hardships of classes he knew everything about.


    "Provide enough energy to strip all electrons from atoms, to make ions and electrons roam freely, and you get plasma. As you now know, achieving that without Archon-level dra control is unfeasible. And even then, without the Arcanum of Plasma, we can only incorporate it into weapons. Firing plasma beams based on dra control alone, is, as of yet, impossible," the Brown Robe Technomancy Professor, a middle-aged man, and top-level High Emissary, explained to a class of 14 students.


    As a major, for multiple reasons, Technomancy had always stood at the bottom of the popularity barrel. On the one hand, technomancers were the most regulated magi of Arcadia. On the other hand, unless they worked for the imperial family, they had no future. For those high-ranking nobles, that was of course not acceptable. But above all those, another issue was that Arcadia''s current Technomancy advancement didn''t have any practical battle skills. Though technomancers could create and control vast arrays of weapons, once deprived of those, magi of the same tier would easily maul them.


    Therefore, only those with low-future prospects or an extreme passion for the field chose it as their major. Although he could already apply for a silver robe, to prevent needless talks, Kilian kept his brown robe, and for the past two weeks, attended all classes.


    Initially, he planned to get perfect grades on the first assignments, and after establishing his reputation as an outstanding student, ruin it all with complete failures. Only then could he get the attention of his first target: Esther zu Ruhkfort, the Chair of Technomancy.


    Born of an eldar slave, though Esther was the daughter of the Grand Duke of Ruhkfort, number three duke of Arcadia, her status in the house had always been shallow. So shallow in fact, that the Grand Duke married her to King Erik of Orloth. Because she rarely made public appearances, not many knew that Orloth''s queen was half eldar, and the youngest department chair of the Imperial Academy.


    Moreover, according to his intel, Erik and Esther had quite a bit of buried enmity.


    Kilian''s plans for the fehl country made two people indispensable: Esther, and her daughter, Carmen.


    With those two, he could make the fatuous King Erik his puppet, and wildly spread fehl mutations throughout Orloth''s aristocracy, thereby forcing them to accept the fehl taint, reject the empire''s laws for his, and strive for survival. Only then would he deal with Klaus.


    At least, that was the original plan. But as he dozed off in the technomancy class, Kilian was starting to reconsider the plan. Perhaps he should just get into Ayden''s good graces, marry into the imperial family, and spread the taint within house von Skoll.


    Now that would be a lot more entertaining.


    "Kilian zu Verden!" The instructor''s voice thundered with a gush of spittle that splashed the poor student at the front row. Snapping out of his torpor, Kilian was startled to see the entire class'' eyes locked on him.


    "You''ve not even passed the Silver Robe examination that you''re already looking down on your instructors? What, do you think your 36 Unlocked Roots make you special?" The professor spat. Though Kilian''s results so far remained irreproachable, his nonchalant attitude displeased all his instructors.


    "If I told you that I spent the entire night working on enhancing my new abominations, would you believe me?" Kilian seriously asked, causing several students to chuckle while others shook their heads.


    Seeing that none believed him, Kilian shrugged and stretched out his hands.


    Carmen, who had not expected her fellow top student to be the troublemaking sort, squinted her silver eyes at him.


    "Haha, you think you''re funny? Well then, you have three seconds to tell me what an Arcanum is, and how it applies to spellcasting," the instructor fired the first thing that crossed his mind. Kilian wished to argue that he just tried telling the truth, but reasoned against it.


    "With all due respect, this is Introductory Technomancy, not Introduction to Magical Theory. But, an Arcanum is the lore of a magical discipline. For example, the Arcana of Fire, Light and Sanctity, without grasping them to a certain degree, magi can''t use Fire, Light, or Holy Magic.


    In retrospect, master an Arcanum, and even without learning traditional spells, you can create your own.


    Complete knowledge of all Basic Disciplines'' Arcana is one of the requirements to become an Archon," Kilian replied, stood up, and stepped out of the room, leaving behind a bewildered instructor and his students.


    Leaving mid-class might carry no penalty, but would undoubtedly grab the attention of the department''s instructors, and perhaps, hasten the meeting with the chair. But this wasn''t the main reason of Kilian''s move.


    No.


    He was just hungry.


    Since he awoke from his Revelation, he discovered a new passion for turkey tails that grew into insatiable food cravings. And thinking of how he''d just broken his professor''s heart, Kilian couldn''t help but rub his guilt-ridden chest. How did he even turn into this kind of student, he wondered.


    "Men bark because they care. In the future, I will either attend your class with full attention, or not attend at all," Kilian told himself as he crossed the academy''s tall hallways. Students of various ages and robes went back and forth, some heading toward classes, while others returned to their suites.


    But as Kilian neared a teleportation circle, a feminine voice echoed from his back.


    "Wait!"


    Stopped in his tracks, Kilian turned to face the disturbance, and was surprised to see Carmen standing before him. Exasperation flashed in her outlandish, silver eyes, telling Kilian that she didn''t skip class to taste his abs.


    "How may I help you, princess?" Kilian directly asked. As a citizen of Orloth, he couldn''t show a lack of decorum. That would be rude.


    Dressed in the same brown wizard robe that struggled to not highlight her curves, for a second, Carmen appraised Kilian''s eyes, seeking in them the determination of one who strove to excel. She couldn''t.


    "At first I hoped that though you didn''t have any attribute, you''d fight for a better future. Unfortunately, it seems I misread you," Carmen remarked. Unlike Kilian, she didn''t major in technomancy, and only took the course to get closer to her distant mother.


    "Straight to the point, princess. I have 15 turkey tails waiting for me," Kilian coolly replied, with his mind focused on the scent he currently missed. At first, Carmen wondered if he wasn''t making fun of her, but then reckoned it was irrelevant and pursued:


    "My maternal uncle, Ernst von Ruhkfort, heir to the Grand Duchy of Ruhkfort, has eyes on your maid. Don''t misunderstand, though a notorious lecher, he also leads an upscale slave-trading organization for his father, and hunts women of substantial ties to lesser nobility. Maids, childhood friends, sisters or daughters of fallen nobles. As long as he can tie a helpless beauty to a powerless noble name, she will sell for a sky-high price.


    Typically, he starts by making them believe he fancies them, has his fun, then sells them in grand auctions. Of course, if she doesn''t offer herself, he won''t hesitate to force her hand. If you care about her safety, you should stop her from roaming around," Carmen warned. As a woman, she loathed nothing more than men who abused their power and station to coerce women into submission.


    Unfortunately, she didn''t have the strength to resolve this situation.


    Never did she expect that her words would stretch Kilian''s lips into a broad grin. Worse, in his eyes, anticipation and surprise intertwined.


    "Oh no! Is that so?"

 54 Song of the Blood Seraph Part 2

    The words didn''t match the situation. Anger, indifference, submission, Carmen expected many things, but not those words or smile. For a second, she couldn''t help but wonder if Kilian failed to grasp the gravity of the events.


    "Don''t take this lightly. Status aside, Ernst is one of the academy''s white-gold students, a 29 years old mid-level High Emissary. Even the professors treat him with courtesy. The imperial family has always been keen on promoting the aristocracy''s infighting, so the academy never intervenes in students'' matters¡ªregardless of how unjust or bloody¡ªgranted that no von Skoll was harmed," Carmen pursued, eying any change in Kilian''s eyes as she spoke.


    None appeared. Instead, Kilian leaned forward.


    "Noted. Thank you, princess. If a day ever comes that you need my mercy, as long as the circumstances are reasonable, I will grant it. But remember, emphasis on the reasonable," he whispered in Carmen''s ear, turned heels, and with his arms crossed behind his back, walked away.


    "Conceited. Why would a royal princess need your mercy? You''d think he''s either von Karsten''s son or imperial kin," Carmen sneered, ran her hand through her wispy bangs, and returned to class.


    ...


    Meanwhile, Lena picked up Kilian''s food order. In recent days, his orders had been getting more and more outrageous, making unsavory gossip spread about him. Knowing that he already faced rumors of being a bisexual rake and drug addict, Kilian couldn''t care less. Lena, however, wished to contain them, chose times when most would be in class to make Kilian''s orders in her name, and covertly pick them up.


    At the same time, she bribed the cooks and waiters to silence the rumors. Knowing that money would stop flowing if they didn''t respect their customer''s privacy, both tightened their lips. But little did she know that by trying to solve one problem, she triggered another.


    Lena had not even taken three steps out of the dining hall, that five men of various frames blocked her path. And while their figures differed, all wore white-gold wizard robes. At their helm, a tall and handsome man who appeared to be in his early twenties. But as she stared at his dark-brown eyes, Lena recognized his identity and true age.


    "Ernst von Ruhkfort, 29. An outstanding student that already condensed four Greater Elemental Crystals," Lena noted.


    Elemental Crystals determine a magus'' strength. Though over-simplistic, those words held true for the majority of human magi. Elemental Crystals were the core requirements of magical growth, and from Jezebel, Lena learned that they were divided into three classes.


    Minor Crystals, Greater Crystals, and Divine Crystals. Because they burrowed in Unlocked Dra Roots, 48 was the maximum number. On top of Dra Control needs, becoming a Core Emissary required 75 dra, two Unlocked Roots, and one Minor Crystal.


    For a High Emissary, 500 dra, three Unlocked Roots, and three Minor Crystals.


    At the Archon rank, the requirements leaped to 5,000 dra, nine Unlocked Roots, and six Greater Crystals. Naturally, with each additional crystal, the difficulty rose exponentially. At four Greater Crystals, Ernst was only a step away from becoming a top-level High Emissary.


    And even without him, white-gold students all were High Emissaries. With her current strength, Lena wasn''t their match.


    "Girl, congratulations. You just won the lottery. The future Grand Duke of Ruhkfort fancies you. Leave your master to join lord Ernst, and who knows, you might even become one of his official mistresses." The student at Ernst''s right began in a gruff but praising tone.


    The words rang with such conceit, that for a second, Lena paused, and shifted her green eyes toward the gruff man.


    "Was that supposed to flatter me? You think there''s a woman in this world that''d drop her pants for such words?" She asked in complete puzzlement. Although by now she should have grown immune to the nobility''s arrogance, they always found new ways to astound her.


    "Naturally. As a commoner, being fancied by his lordship is good fortune you do not deserve. But since he saw fit to grace you, just kowtow in thanks and accept it," the gruff nobleman pursued, and Ernst nodded in approval. Although he planned to auction Lena, the more he looked at her, the more pleasing to his eyes she became.


    "For someone named Ernst, you''re not quite earnest. Instead of working on improving your magecraft, you''re stealing a maid in broad daylight? Tell me, how much did daddy spend to help you reach this point?" Ignoring the deluded man, Lena shifted her attention back to Ernst.


    Instantly, his face twisted in a frown, and he stretched out his hands.


    "Enough for me to tame you. Are you coming, or do I have to take you by force?" Ernst countered, hands folded and chest stuck out in a stance that almost made Lena puke.


    In a flash, she analyzed her situation. One, no one would come to her aid. Two, if she went all out, she''d not only lose but reveal abilities her age and background didn''t allow. Three, only by letting the opponent lower their guard and release her strongest move in one instant, could she turn the tables. Four, with his current condition, contacting Kilian might do more harm than good.


    Her eyes sank in a downcast display, and she sighed in helplessness.


    "Very well, lead the way," Lena replied, making no show of resistance. Of the few bystanders, some ignored the scene, while others snickered at her "fortune." Satisfied, Ernst waved for two of his goons to surround Lena as he led the way back to his chambers.


    It had only been three days since he took notice of her, and after observing her for some time, decided to make his move. As for her master, although according to rumors, the trio of master and servants had quite the intimate relationship, in might or in background, how could he resist him?


    At best, like many others, he''d swallow his indignation. At worst, Lena''s future owner would require his presence for one night, and Ernst would arrange it.


    Back in his chambers, the junior duke sat on a throne-like chair and motioned for his fellows to do the same. All took various seats, leaving Lena to stand alone in the middle of the living room.


    "Strip," Ernst commanded with an expectant smile, making his four pals flick their tongues across their lips. Naturally, Lena didn''t obey. Instead, she stepped back, clutched her arms, and trembled like a startled, powerless woman, to lure in the hyenas.


    "What, do you need our help? Fine, fellows, a nobleman should never let a lady wait," Ernst stated and stood up. His goons followed, and together, the five surrounded Lena from all sides.


    High nobility scions spent the first 18 years of their lives in extreme training to prepare for the Imperial Academy, leading to built-up stress they often relieved on their inferiors. This world had too many Lenas¡ªalmost.


    Clenching her fists, Lena gathered her 2,600 dra for a Third Circle Spell: Unary Explosion. As a soldier and servant, failing to protect her master was bad enough, but she couldn''t allow herself to turn into his burden. At worst, she''d take them down at the cost of her life!


    But as the five''s hands neared Lena''s form, a voice echoed from the entrance, "She''s a commoner, not a lady. Though, I suppose that''s just semantics." Alarmed by the intrusion, the five spun toward the entrance, and were startled to see Kilian leaning against the wall¡ªsweeping them all with a poised, but eerie glance.


    "How did you enter?" Ernst asked as a frown twisted his face. But ignoring him, Kilian stepped forward, and arms crossed behind his back, directly landed beside Lena. Wrapping his hand around her waist, he again vanished to return to the entrance, moving at a speed the five mistook for teleportation.


    Their alarm turned into fright.


    "Master..." Though delighted by Kilian''s appearance, Lena couldn''t face his gaze, silently cursing herself for not having one-tenth Jezebel''s strength. Was there anything more shameful than a servant needing her master''s assistance? Not only could she not assist him, but when faced with Arcadia''s elite, she could only struggle at risk of life.


    Driven by her self-loathing, Lena''s heart pounded against her chest, and sensing her misgivings, Kilian placed a kiss on her forehead. Baffled, Lena raised her eyes, staring agape at Kilian''s hazel eyes.


    "First, you''re 18, they''re around 30. You just started your road, they''ve been on theirs for nearly two decades. Naturally, you can''t compare. But who cares? Within a year, the likes of them won''t be enough for you to chew on.


    Second, though you''re my hellhound, I didn''t bring you to the academy because I needed servants. On this long, tedious road, I want partners, pals I can relax around, you''re one of them," Kilian stated, lilac mist surged from his pores, and the hazel of his eyes took a lilac hue.


    "Go, keep my tails warm, and I will cuddle you as a reward," he jested, and though she knew that when his eyes took the lilac shade, troubles awaited, Lena felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest, and flashed a warm smile.


    "As you command, master!" She replied, and walked out the door.


    Human dra is blue. In all arcane circles, this is common knowledge. The clearer the dra, the better the magus'' Dra Control.


    Yet, Kilian''s dra now took a lilac-shade, creating a sense of foreboding in the five white-gold students'' hearts.


    "Tsss¡­" But as their eyes narrowed at the misty dra surge, a hissing sound came from their back, forcing them to turn and face its origin.


    The slithering form of two small, jet-black snakes rose from the shadows to appear before the five''s bewildered eyes. But the longer they stared, the stranger the snakes became, first expanding to 10 meters in length, then merging to become a two-headed serpent!


    At the serpent''s back, a pair of scaled black wings sprouted, and as the massive reptile''s slit, purple eyes locked on them, Ernst included, the white-gold students lost the ability to walk.


    "Aaaaargh!" They shrieked and attempted to rush to safety, but their feet refused to obey, keeping them all trapped before the twin-headed serpent''s paralyzing gaze.


    "Inyoka, don''t make the lads soil their pants, we have to maintain their noble dignity," Kilian admonished and beckoned for his abomination to slither toward him. Obediently, the monster ignored the paralyzed five and coiled around its master.


    Bred from the flescrafted and transmuted remains of 42 Desolate Knives and their Archon leader, Inyoka not only possessed low-level Archon battle prowess but an energy shield capable of repelling weak Dra Shackles. Better, using the fallen Archon''s genes as the template, Kilian managed to create a false Arcane Bloodline and make Inyoka an expert of Umbrakinesis. Alas, Inyoka didn''t have a soul, so Kilian could never give him a true Arcane Bloodline.


    Still, to this day, he was his best creation.


    "Ernst, you''re fucked. So fucked that an asshole taking a 30 cm long cock isn''t as fucked as you are. But don''t worry, I''m gonna make sure it hurts. Hurts so much that your mind breaks down, and your soul screams for all to hear¡ª" Kilian paused, stroked Inyoka''s cold scales with gentle care, and canted his head to the right.


    "Kilian''s people, no one can insult!" His tone underwent a 180 turn, and echoing its master''s commands, Inyoka lunged at Ernst''s subordinates, bared his jagged fangs at the oafs, and tore them all to shreds!


    No amount of shrieking could save their lives, or hasten their deaths. Inyoka played with his prey, tearing them limb by limb. Their howls vanished in his maws!


    Basted by his subordinates'' blood, Ernst soiled his pants.

 55 Song of the Blood Seraph Final Par

    Ten minutes of munching ended Inyoka''s blood feast, and the abomination glided back toward Kilian, bobbing its heads as if seeking praise. Satisfied, Kilian patted both of Inyoka''s heads, and with his serpent coiling around his form, he ambled toward Ernst who quivered to no end.


    "Ugh, what kind of smell is that? How can piss smell worse than a sea lion''s fart? Maybe we should start by cleaning your insides," Kilian pinched his nose and waved off the "terrible" smell. Alas, his last words only deepened Ernst''s terror, making the yellow piss pool soak his feet.


    Wiggling his head in disapproval, Kilian put on a pair of black rubber gloves and tapped Ernst''s cheeks.


    "W-why...why can''t I move?" Shivering with tear-soaked, bloodshot eyes, Ernst stammered at Kilian.


    "Willpower," he replied, clutched Ernst''s neck in his right hand, and hurled him across the room to crash on a sofa. Still, Ernst couldn''t move. Whether he stared into Inyoka''s eyes or not seemed entirely irrelevant.


    "Fear paralysis is a common thing. Instead of running before wild beasts, helpless human prey can quickly end up stranded by fear. The Compendium of Species taught me many things, and among them, what makes what race tick. Inyoka''s eyes are a supercharged version of that stimulus. With shallow willpower, you only need to glance at him once, and you will become no different from a statue¡ªa talking statue, that is," Kilian followed, and alongside Inyoka, reappeared before Ernst.


    "Y-you c-can''t kill me! I''m the only son of Grand Duke Rupert! The heir of Ruhkfort! My father loved me enough that he didn''t bother to have another son! Also, the Department Chair of Technomancy is my elder sister and will definitely investigate my death! Even if you don''t leave fingerprints, she will retrace your magical signature!" Ernst snarled, finding backbone in his background.


    "You''re right! Except that your sister will be the first to celebrate your death. In fact, if I didn''t have other plans for it, I''d give her your head. A pity, really. Oh and, I use Fehl Magic." The words destroyed Ernst''s final hopes, and mouth agape, he wept warm tears. On the list of people Esther wished to kill, the only ones above her husband were her father and siblings.


    Let''s not mention seeking the murderer, it would be great if she didn''t cover the trails¡ªif trails there were.


    "Please forgive me! I am sorry! I don''t deserve to die! It''s not right! I didn''t even get to touch her!" Desperate, Ernst thrashed against invisible chains, while jabbering one of the worst "don''t kill me" cases in history.


    "Oh? Forgive. Alright, just tell me one thing. How were you going to do it? Pin her on the ground, shove your cock down her cunt and say, forgive me, I''m sorry? Hum? Yeah right.


    You see, Ernst, sending hundreds to their death, even worthless wretches, just to secure a victory, doesn''t make my heart race with excitement. I will do it because I must. Because if you don''t win, you lose. And I''ve tasted defeat already. But making sure the likes of you draw their final breath in utter agony? Now that really gets me going," Kilian leaned forward, and whispered in Ernst''s trembling ears.


    "But don''t worry, even scum shouldn''t die in vain. Your corpse must tell an immortal tale! I call it, the Song of the Blood Seraph." All amusement vanished from Kilian''s face, replaced by a deadpan gaze that only made Ernst''s heart race faster.


    "You''re mad! You''re mad! You''re m-" Sinking his gloved fingers into Ernst''s face, Kilian stopped his outrage and began his artwork. And though Ernst remained alive for the longest part of the macabre surgery, Kilian removed his vocal cords to make sure he couldn''t scream.


    Following Ernst''s one-hour-long makeover, Kilian kept the result in the Hellforge, and with Cyberkinesis, hacked into the academy''s recording technology to locate all those that witnessed the contact between Lena and Ernst''s group. After hunting them all down, Kilian returned to the Hellforge and waited till midnight to hang the new Ernst in the dining hall.


    On the following day, as thousands of students rose to enjoy breakfast along their peers, they stumbled on a scene that''d haunt them throughout the rest of their lives.


    "AAAAAAAAAH!" Hundreds of blood-curdling screams, males and females alike, thundered within the dining hall as a terror-stricken crowd formed around a hanged man. Well, something with the rough shape of a man.


    Strung up on a crystal chandelier by his bowels, Ernst''s mutilated, gled corpse dangled in the air. His face torn off, his ribs severed from the spine and arranged to form three pairs of bloody wings. One pair faced the ceiling, another the floor, and the last aimed at the left and right. Driven by foreign magic, Ernst''s hands played a symphony oddly similar to Fur Elise with his vocal cords, and on his chest, four crimson words stood, "Here lies a pig."


    Dozens directly fainted, some dropped on their knees, and others still ran toward the doors, seeking the help of the instructors.


    This murder, the worst single kill in Arcadian history, would reverberate throughout the empire, alarm millions, and trigger unpredicted waves of consequences.


    Henceforth, the Imperial Academy took a firmer stance on inter-student strife, deployed an investigation team led by Archons to retrace Ernst''s last moves, and questioned the dozens of students he abused to check their alibis. Alas, all those that could give useful testimony, those that witnessed Ernst and his goons surround Lena, were nowhere to be seen.


    As for recording technology in the halls, strangely, they all malfunctioned. Appraising the magic also gave no result, prompting the department heads and headmaster to blame it on Fehl Magic. With one murder, the Imperial Academy rose to maximum alert, unwittingly thwarting the Technocracy''s plans.


    Meanwhile, in the following days, demented dark magi and serial killers would attempt to replicate Ernst'' murder, while horror artists made it the new icon of their craft. Kilian''s Blood Seraph thus conquered the horror market, with many dubbing him as the macabre genius of a century.


    Unable to endure his son''s fate and dark glory, Grand Duke Rupert von Rukhfort gathered his vassals and made an unprecedented statement.


    "It is no secret that Niklas von Skoll''s rule is the worst in Arcadia''s history. But since the emperor''s fall, using a succession of false pretexts, the von Skoll dynasty has oppressed the Arcadian aristocracy no end! Dukes beheaded for a yes or a no! Nobles put under house arrest and humiliated within their houses!


    And now, even the Imperial Academy, the breeder of the future, number one arcane institution of Arcadia, dares tell the world that it can''t investigate the horrid murder of its top students!


    The abuse goes on and on, for the imperial family doesn''t doubt its absolute power. And since none dares put its might to the test, I, Rupert von Rukhfort, dare!


    Brothers and sisters, lords of ancient houses, let us raise our swords against infamy, and overthrow the scourge that keeps us all chafing in the yoke of tyranny!


    Another day under von Skoll rule is another day in hell!" Rupert''s statement alarmed the world, and within three hours, threw Arcadia into civil war.


    But while many wondered how the Grand Duke dared challenge the von Skolls, Kilian enjoyed turkey tails in his suite, unaware of the seismic changes he triggered.

 56 The First Shackle

    For the first time in three lives, Kilian discovered an addiction to meat and grease, tearing through the turkey tails with his eyes shut and his lips only pausing to make muffled moans.


    At his right, Inyoka in his arm-sized snake form sipped potent alcohol through a glass straw.


    "Mhm! Lord this is good. Sometimes, I can''t help but wonder why men make life so complicated. Men are so greedy! They have everything within three square meters, yet want to reach so far beyond. Just like that idiot we just redecorated, why did he have to be so greedy?


    Heir of a grand duke, lord of a mighty house, women left and right, and all the delicacies he could hope for, yet he still needed to oppress my girl. Who gave him the right? The audacity? The authority! I should have asked him so that I could split the blame. A pity. Inyoka, even if your sentience improves, don''t become like men," Kilian urged between two turkey tails. In response, Inyoka hissed and bobbed his heads.


    "Not like that bastard Klaus, such a clever man. For whatever reason, he wants me to hunt him, to experience grief, hatred, resentment, and aim it all at him. He knows that even if I''m clever enough to see through the ploy, I can''t stop!


    Inyoka, hatred is a disease. It clutches your heart, squeezes the air out of your lung, smacks you in the face every morning, and keeps your blind eyes aiming at its source even as you sleep!" Kilian thrice slammed his chest and snarled in a rare outburst of rage. His eyes went bloodshot, with the lilac iris shining in a brighter hue.


    Stopping his booze drinking, Inyoka rubbed his heads against Kilian''s arms, as if using his cold scales to cool his master''s internal flames. Seeing this, Kilian sighed and patted Inyoka''s back.


    "Men, put no limits to their powers and they won''t hesitate to terrorize their inferiors, oppressing them with no reason beside ''I can.'' Do they really think there''s glory in being a cunt?" Kilian lamented, closed his eyes, and alongside Inyoka, dove into the Hellforge. There, the brain-wiped witnesses lay in a corner.


    Ignoring them, Kilian swept the Hellforge''s chalky walls. Seven paintings adorned them, six of Viktor and Alina in various positions, and one of Klaus in the middle. Kilian drew them all in the last two weeks.


    "This, Inyoka, is what we call obsession.


    With too much power men lose their heart. Our peers become livestock. Our obsessions turn into demons, and our rage into madness. Even without Jezebel''s blood, I was destined to reach this point.


    But Inyoka, though I''ve never felt more free, or freer for grammar purists, it''s time I snap out of it. I am a man, not a boy. Boys may grieve their losses, but men must learn to power through. The past is set in stone, but the future is mine," Kilian stated, and with a smile, stretched out his right hand toward the seven paintings. Cracking sounds unfurled, and the paintings burst into smithereens.


    "Now, I realize that the first shackle is the self." As the words left his lips, Kilian felt chains snap within his chest, forcefully bringing him out of the Hellforge. Lilac dra surged from his body, and his eyes opened wide. Spreading his hands apart, Kilian released a long breath, pulling the overflowing dra back in through his pore.


    Bypassing his physical form, Kilian''s dra merged with his soul, becoming a single force. In that instant, he reached Archon-level dra control, thereby mastering the First Shackle¡ªthe Dra Shackle!


    But that only was the beginning. Slamming his hands together, Kilian forced the lingering lilac mist out of his pores, freeing himself of the blood''s aftermath, and regaining full control of his body and reason.


    The mist gathered in an intangible orb, Kilian''s hands flashed in esoteric gestures, and again his dra gushed forth, this time controlled and directed aimed at the orb. Like a maestro would a musical piece, Kilian weaved his dra, making the orb shrink, split, morph and harden in three lilac, thumb-sized crystals¡ªMinor Fehl Crystals!


    Granted they had enough power and understanding of the Arcana, magi could condense as many Elemental Crystals as their Unlocked Roots¡ªa maximum of 48. Moreover, on top of dra requirements, they also needed three Minor Crystals to officially become High Emissaries. Kilian thus made his first leap as a true magus, going from top-level Lesser Emissary to low-level High Emissary.


    Each Minor Crystal boosted the element''s spell-power by 10%, Greater Crystals by 50%, and Divine Crystals by 100%. Fehl Crystals provided the same boost¡ªbut on all elements!


    Thus, Kilian had effectively boosted his overall spell-power by 30%, a significant boost. At the same time, his physique and senses had surpassed the low-level Archon tier. If he again faced that Desolate Knife Archon, in one breath, he could take his head.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Human Fehl Mutant]


    [Age: 18]


    [Magus Rank: low-level High Emissary]


    [Battle Prowess: mid-level Archon]


    [Dra Reserves: 26,670]


    [Knowledge Points: 872]


    [Implants: Lv. 2 Cyberkinesis Chip]


    [Mutation: Stage II Eye of Fehl]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 4 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 4 Transmutation]


    ---


    Because he exhausted his kp to enhance his Cyberkinesis Chip, Kilian didn''t have much left. At the same time, he''d learned from Jezebel that the past Hellforge owners all mysteriously vanished at various points of time. Needless to say, the knowledge only made him more careful with kp gains.


    But as he prepared to stand up, Kilian saw the world around him spin, and he vanished to reappear in a secluded corner of his soul. There, Klaus sat across a wooden table, staring half-dazed at the purple sky. For indeed, following his level up, Kilian''s soul went from flaming red to dark purple.


    Without a word, Kilian summoned a chair and sat before Klaus.


    "Impressive, you''re just about to turn 19, yet already broke the First Shackle. You have not let me down, son," Klaus lowered his eyes onto Kilian and praised without reserve.


    "You played a critical role in such an early success, father," Kilian leisurely replied, making Klaus'' eyebrows arch up.


    "W-what did you just call me?" He couldn''t help but ask. In the six years they''d spent together, Kilian never once called him "father." Why now?


    "As the saying goes, master one day, father always. Klaus, you''re not merely my biological father but taught me the vast majority of the things I know. You taught me about the world, about men, how to control or kill them¡ªwhen and why I should trust those that surround me. But most importantly, you''ve taught me that the world has no shortage of heroes, and more often than not, they fail it.


    Only purposeful villains can create centuries worth of impact. If only for those, I should call you father," Kilian explained with a smile that even Klaus didn''t know how to interpret.


    "The core difference between heroes and villains?"


    "Heroes react, villains drive."


    "The first rule of survival?"


    "Fairness is a boy''s yearning."


    "Mercy is¡­"


    "A tool for the mighty, a weakness in the feeble."


    "Practice is¡­"


    "The mother of mastery."


    ¡­


    For half an hour, Klaus tested Kilian on the philosophy he''d imparted onto him, and was satisfied to see that Kilian remembered it all without exception. But at the same time, he seemed to stand above them, able to use what he liked and discard what he disliked.


    "As expected of someone who wants my life. You surely do study me well. Almost a mini me," Klaus jested while staring into Kilian''s hazel eyes with the warmth of an elder.


    Undisturbed, Kilian shrugged and leaned forward.


    "I never wanted to kill you. I wanted to ruin you. But now I feel like I''ve been looking at this the wrong way. Ruining you is for myself and has nothing to do with them. You''ve defined my existence for far too long, and I''ve grown bored of playing your games."


    "So what will you do?"


    "I cannot bring them back to life. Their souls are currently being wiped in the Aether Realm. Unless I can become an Astral Master before their reincarnation, there is no hope. But I can destroy the empire, destroy the four kingdoms, reverse the chessboard, and create a place¡ªno matter how small¡ªwhere infamy faces justice.


    Monsters, abominations, the different, the rejected, all those slammed left and right by a fate they have no say in¡ªyet struggle to overcome it¡ªcan breathe in peace and forge their destiny.''


    Let''s call it, the World of Freaks," Kilian declared, striking Klaus hard with the conviction of his words.


    "Chimera. Though, I can feel that our fate nears its end. Months, years, who knows? But I''m afraid we only have one face-to-face meeting left.


    So, from one villain to another, let me give you a final piece of advice. If you want to do the impossible, find the Altar of Eternity. There lies the power to make a reality of chimeras. As long as you fit the conditions, you can even bring them back." Klaus had just finished his words that Kilian snapped his fingers, making him vanish in a purple haze.


    "And I know you will be waiting."


    The Klaus in Kilian''s soul was nothing more than a residue of the energies Klaus used to power the Eye of Fehl. Naturally, it couldn''t resist.

 57 We Need to Talk

    Meanwhile, the Blood Seraph''s aftermath still rankled the Imperial Academy. Within her office, Queen Esther of Orloth, Chair of Technomancy and only non-archon to occupy a Department Chair position¡ªread various encoded reports with her legs crossed¡ªadjusting her rectangular decrypting glasses from time to time.


    The cluttered sound of rushed footsteps came from behind the office door, and without announcing herself, Carmen, barged in. Seeing her mother perusing her reports in the same relaxed manner as always, Carmen squinted her eyes at her.


    "Mother, what are you doing?" The confused princess asked. Like thousands of other students, Carmen witnessed Kilian''s Blood Seraph. But unlike the rest, knew who the academy owed it to.


    Less than 24 hours after she warned Kilian about Ernst''s designs on Lena, the heir to Ruhkfort lay hanged in the dining hall. It didn''t take a genius to put two and two together.


    At first, Carmen doubted her reasoning. After all, the level of strength required to accomplish this feat was far beyond High Emissary territory. Throughout the academy, the purple-gold students and department chairs aside, who could? But no matter how she twisted the story, timing and the eccentric glint she saw in Kilian''s eyes convinced her that Ernst''s death revolved around him.


    The savagery of the killing, the disappearance of dozens of students, the malfunction of all recording technology, and her perception of Kilian''s abilities convinced Carmen that she couldn''t survive spilling the beans.


    How strong was he truly?


    Throughout the academy, how many could oppose him, if any?


    Allies, goals, network, and more importantly, why did he spare her?


    No, perhaps even now Kilian monitored her¡ªrestrained by some twisted sense of gratitude¡ªbut ready to eliminate her at the first misstep. She couldn''t risk it.


    But that...only was one issue.


    Esther''s eyes rose from her report to lock on her daughter. A woman of remarkable grace and extraordinary beauty, just like Carmen, Esther possessed the silver eyes of the eldar. But unlike her daughter''s, the queen''s lustrous silver hair didn''t hide any black curls.


    With small pointy ears and luscious, full lips glazed with purple lipstick, she tied her long, curly hair with a simple knot, making her ponytail hang above her rear while two long strands fell over her shoulders.


    "Discourtesy does not befit the future Queen of Orloth. In all things you do, in all situations¡ªregardless of how dire¡ªyou must remain graceful." Esther lowered her report, and arched her head back, unintentionally forcing her massive breasts to poke through her oversized white coat. Her words brought Carmen no comfort. Striding toward her Esther, Carmen banged her balled fists against the office table and intently stared at her mother''s almond-shaped eyes.


    "First, I still have an elder brother. The only one of five you''ve yet to kill. Before that, I''m afraid I can''t shoulder the title of future queen. Second, this is no time to be graceful. For the love of all that is sacred, our lives are on the line!" Carmen snarled at Esther''s face.


    Indeed, for nearly two decades, Esther set on a mission to ensure her daughter would become Orloth''s next ruler, and through subtle schemes, disposed of four of her husband''s five sons. Murder through rival houses, indirect framing, magical corruption form dark magic, Esther''s elaborate means ensured that King Erik could not retrace it to her. But while on the outside, it all seemed to serve Carmen''s interests, the princess knew that hatred alone drove her mother''s deeds.


    "First, your elder brother is about to get executed for sleeping with your father''s favorite mistress. At the same time, the Duke of Ursten will offer his second son for a matrilineal marriage. Congratulations, daughter," Esther replied, undisturbed by Carmen''s impertinence.


    Startled, Carmen recoiled, unable to believe that from the comfort of the Imperial Academy, her mother not only managed to end her last sibling, but secured a matrilineal marriage with a duke. In the rare cases that a noblewoman became the sole direct heir to her house''s titles, matrilineal marriages were the norm. However, the high nobility seldom consented to such marriages.


    But as Carmen pondered on her mother''s means, the queen continued, "Second, you have nothing to fear. When 50 years ago the emperor exterminated the eldars, the scant few survivors degenerated into slaves for the imperial nobility. My mother was one such case. Therefore, they gave me the ''zu'' instead of the ''von.''


    I may be Rupert''s daughter, but legally, we''re not direct descendants of house Ruhkfort. Highborn slaves are still slaves, and slaves are not punishable for their masters'' crimes. When Rupert falls, some will use this one law to preserve us both." In Esther''s tone, Carmen couldn''t detect the tiniest bit of anxiety regarding Rupert''s fate. Worse, she almost seemed to look forward to her father''s demise.


    Knowing that her mother never spoke words she didn''t have 100% confidence in, Carmen lowered her head and stepped back.


    "Mother, if you want to make me your puppet queen, there is nothing I can do about it. But as long as Klaus breathes, the title of King of Orloth is a joke. But perhaps that doesn''t matter to you. Perhaps you''re satisfied to know that you''ve ruined whatever remained of house von Draken?"


    Carmen sneered, turned heels and walked out. At the end of the day, only those trusted by the emperor or elder council could occupy a department chair position within the Imperial Academy. Since Rupert''s rebellion would have no impact on them, Carmen could focus on surviving the monster known as Kilian.


    ¡­


    Within Kilian''s suite, Lena sat crossed-legged in her room. Hands resting on either side of her thighs, through a succession of long, deep breaths, Lena manipulated her fehl dra to condense her first Elemental Crystal. In silence, Jezebel observed her. Since her return from Ernst''s encounter, Lena focused on crystal condensation, no longer paying heed to what occurred on the outside.


    And while unlike Kilian, she only had five Unlocked Roots, her Fehl Beast instincts, Jezebel''s guidance, and her own brain allowed her to smoothly cross the barriers keeping her from the first Fehl Crystal.


    But if Lena''s focus prevented her from sensing the outer chaos, unlike her, Jezebel didn''t miss any of the commotion. Better, because of her bond to Kilian, she experienced all he felt during his confrontation with Ernst. Even without seeing it, she could imagine the former student''s fate.


    At first, Jezebel pondered how she could help Kilian regain control, but then sensed the changes in his psyche, and knew he needed no further help. Now instead, she focused on the situation''s changes and Lena''s progress. Seeing the first crystal starting to take shape, Jezebel nodded, adopted her male disguise, and left the suite.


    From browns to white-gold, terror-stricken students raced across the halls with their eyes darting left and right, and sweat showering their faces. The ease with which humans surrendered to fright never failed to surprise Jezebel. When faced with irresistible crises and helplessness, not many could keep their back straight. But those who could often were problematic.


    Closing her eyes, Jezebel swept the academy with her fehl senses, seeking among the non-purple-gold students those that still managed to keep their cool.


    Out of the academy''s thousands of students, not many fit the bill. Three, however, snatched her attention.


    Anke von Karsten, who just took a glance at the Blood Seraph, then carried on with her day.


    And a pair of von Skoll youths that observed the macabre work with scrutiny. But while the female''s lips curled into a smile, the male remained impassive.


    "Alan and Irma von Skoll. Interesting pair. I wonder who put them here," Jezebel asked herself, and her eyes opened, landing on Ayden who now stood in her path.


    "Hi there, we need to talk," said Ayden with a mild smile.

 58 Sura Hunting Game

    Before the madness took hold, Kilian predicted that Ayden''s group would seek further contact. Therefore, his appearance didn''t particularly startle Jezebel. In fact, she wondered why he''d not come sooner.


    "Your Imperial Highness? What may I do for you?" Jezebel asked with a polite bow, making Ayden''s smile broaden in response.


    "If I told you that my girlfriend wants a threesome and I''m looking for partners with experience in the domain, would you believe me? No? Worth a try," Ayden shrugged in false helplessness and in a gust of wind, reappeared before Jezebel.


    For a second, as if unconvinced by the male disguise, he peered into her gaze, leaning forward, and making Jezebel consider whether to blow up Arcadia''s crown prince, or not.


    "You like men, don''t you? I can see it in your eyes," Ayden stated and pulled his head back.


    "It takes one to know one, Your Imperial Highness," Jezebel replied, for indeed, she could see the same thing in Ayden''s amber eyes. Homosexuality was no particularly taboo matter within Arcadia¡ªhowever, the higher the status, the more frowned upon it was. If not because she''d made a proper assessment of his character, Jezebel wouldn''t speak such words to Ayden''s face¡ªunless, of course, she planned to kill him.


    "Actually, I play for both teams, but you''re not my type. Your master is more to my tastes. A pity that I''m spoken for. Now now, let''s move on to proper business," unfazed by Jezebel''s reply, Ayden turned heels, leading the way to a more appropriate discussion setting.


    Kept busy by political intrigues, Ayden didn''t have the opportunity to contact Kilian''s group sooner. Fortunately, the Blood Seraph and its aftermath snatched the old fogies'' attention, giving him a minute to handle this.


    According to Tristan, of the two by Kilian''s side, this "man" was his closest confidante. That being the case, he could start with him. But little did he know that inwardly, Jezebel sneered at his back.


    "Boys these days. Ayden, Ayden, for you who can''t even see the strings wrapped around your limbs, how are you qualified to approach Kilian? Poor Niklas must have been quite desperate to resort to such means." Weakened or not, a high-ranking fehl Jezebel remained. Sharper than anyone else''s, her eyes could see the inconsistencies in Ayden''s appearance and aura. Inconsistencies that led her to examine his DNA. And just like she expected, it was identical to Niklas''. The implications were obvious.


    Crossing teleportation circles, the two reached Ayden''s private student lounge, which he typically used for informal gatherings. Dropping on a sofa, Ayden motioned for Jezebel to sit, and as she did, carried on.


    "I won''t beat around the bush. Someone whose will not many on Arcadia can challenge, wants me to put Kilian to the test. Is he with us or against us? That type of thing. But I think it''s boring, at best. Arcadia is a dark and tasteless world that kneels to one thing only: Might.


    There is no need to coerce submission. Become the incarnation of invincibility, and all will naturally bow. Submissive goons are easy to find, partners, on the other hand, that''s more challenging. I want partners," Ayden declared, making Jezebel''s eyes narrow at him.


    "No need to be surprised. A man''s life is finite. Even when I become an Exarch, I won''t have more than 500 years of life. Power only makes you free. Partners make you whole. In the future, when I look back on the specter of my life, I want to see the figures of people around whom I could relax. People that understood my heart as much as I understood theirs.


    I like Kilian''s eyes, and believe that with the right choices, we can form such a bond. So I''m willing to give it a try." As Jezebel digested his words, Ayden tossed a purple-gold card at her.


    "In one month, the Imperial Academy will host this year''s Sura Hunting Game. Typically it occurs mid-school-year. But because of the civil war, the academy plans to hold it early and send its valuable students away. Black-gold students and above are free to join. But for those below, they either pass a test or join a higher-ranked student''s team. With this card, Kilian can join mine."


    A yearly event during which the Imperial Academy brought its top students to the Sura Plane to train against, and hunt the suras, the Sura Hunting Game was a long-standing Arcadian tradition.


    An ancient race that predated humanity, Suras were fairy-like spirits magi could seal in their Elemental Crystals and use to both increase their dra and the power of certain Disciplines. Interestingly, fehl magi couldn''t store suras, but could devour and add varying percentages of their powers to themselves, or offer them to bound daemons for boons and greater might.


    To say nothing of other forces, across the millennia following the establishment of the academy, millions of suras had been slaughtered by invading students. Needless to say, a sea of resentment split the two sides.


    "You need to be at least a Core Emissary to make use of suras. So I can understand why this might not look very appealing to your master. But it will not only serve as valuable experience, he can also trade captured suras for Imperial Grace. I don''t think I need to explain the perks.


    Considering his 36 Unlocked Roots, Kilian is probably already a Lesser Emissary. I suspect he just doesn''t wish to flaunt the achievement. However, with no attributes, it will take years before he can condense a crystal and become a Core Emissary. Sura Magic might also help in speeding up his growth. I''ve said all I needed to, the rest is up to you." Without further ado, Ayden waved Jezebel away. But for the first time since their encounter, her lips curled into a smile.


    "Compared to Niklas you''re a lot more interesting. Who could think that the clone would be so much better than the original? You almost remind me of Kilian," Jezebel remarked. Puzzled by the words, Ayden frowned and released his dra.


    The vibe changed immediately, but long before Ayden''s dra could cause any commotion, Jezebel''s invisible pressure choked all resistance out of him. With leisurely steps, she ambled toward the startled crown prince, and leaned toward him.


    "Don''t bother, I recovered enough that the likes of you can''t resist my grasp. Initially, I planned to devour your soul to speed up my recovery, then use my true form to end the academy''s fehl searches. But now, I have something else in mind," Jezebel whispered in Ayden''s ear and placed her hand on his forehead.


    Lilac light flashed within her hand, and Ayden''s eyes glazed over.


    "When one day you need to rebel against Niklas, this little gift will help you. But beware, when consorting with fehl powers, everything comes at a cost." The murmur of Jezebel''s voice etched itself in Ayden''s mind, then vanished as if nothing occurred. To him, they''d just ended their sura talk.


    With a polite bow, Jezebel thanked Ayden for the opportunity and walked out. It is only much later, that Ayden would realize his lack of wisdom and understand why so many worlds dubbed Jezebel, the Empress of Mayhem.


    Later that day, a new string of student disappearances would culminate in the sighting of a fehl summoner and his rampaging daemoness! The creature''s appearance triggered the combined assault of the headmaster and department heads; yet it still managed to slip out of their grasp and vanish from academy ground. Thus, the Blood Seraph case ended.

 59 Dont Let me Down

    "Mew¡­" disguised as a catgirl, Jezebel mewled on Kilian''s lap, using Lena''s isolated training to hog him for herself.


    "Kilian, how can you be this heartless? After I went through so much trouble to clean up your madness-driven mess, you don''t even give me a hug? How heartless!" Jezebel sobbed and wrapped her hands around Kilian''s waist.


    "As well as you should. Aren''t you the one that gave me AIDS? I finally understand why the ancients warned us about cougars." With his eyes moving through the pages of a spellbook, Kilian ran one hand through Jezebel''s hair and kept the other on her back¡ªusing his dra alone to keep the book in suspension.


    After regaining his consciousness, Kilian naturally considered various methods to deal with the commotion. Although his psychopathic version took many precautions, one serious problem remained: habits.


    Putting himself in his foes'' shoes, Kilian inferred that unable to retrace their targets, the academy''s leaders would seek potentially fehl-tainted students through erratic habits. After all, daemons and beasts aside, only the fehl-tainted could use Fehl Magic. However, those mutants skilled in the fehl craft were often prone to volatile behavior.


    A thorough investigation would quickly reveal Kilian''s excessive eating habits. And while he could shift the blame on a disorder such as bulimia, with lack of better targets, the school might still keep an eye on him. That kind of attention, he didn''t need. Having come to the same conclusion, Jezebel took the bull by the horns and gave the academy the ending they wanted¡ªthereby shutting down the student investigation.


    "This is what I get for delaying my recovery for you? I want a divorce."


    "We''re not married."


    "Kilian, Kilian, one day I will turn heels and vanish¡ªmaking you regret not coaxing me more often," Jezebel lifted her head and pouted at Kilian. The words pulled his gaze away from the book, and his eyes locked on Jezebel''s.


    "Like you''ve done with Niklas?" The casual words sapped all amusement from Jezebel''s eyes, and letting go of Kilian''s waist, she spun to avoid his gaze.


    "You figured it out?"


    "How could I not? Jezebel, we''ve been bonded for about six months now. Half a year passed by in a flash, but I dare say we''ve learned a great deal about one another. Klaus aside, no one understands me as well as you do. But likewise, I''m confident that not many know you better than I do," Kilian replied, leaned forward, and lowered his face so that his forehead faced Jezebel''s nose.


    Again, their eyes intertwined, but this time, Jezebel didn''t evade and let her lips curl into a smile.


    "In the past, when I left the Fehl Plane to wander various worlds, I wanted to experience the full depth of sentient beings. Across the decades, though I''ve mapped most personas, there aren''t many I find displeasing. At the same time, unless I''m making them scream in agony, I rarely find men and women worth my time.


    There are only two things I deeply dislike: being seen as a pillow and being put in chains. I do what I do because I feel like it, not because x, y or z person expects it of me. Niklas failed to understand that," Jezebel stated, and as her thoughts drifted to the past, Kilian could sense her heart grow colder. Though Jezebel often behaved in a nonchalant manner, as the favorite child of one of the multiverse''s most dreadful existences, and herself an entity of unfathomable powers, she possessed great self-esteem.


    How could she allow anyone to bind her wings?


    "140 years ago, Arcadia was the first world I visited. I roamed across the many echelons of society before impersonating Viscellia von Rulweil. It was then that I met Niklas. In those days, though I never considered making him my bonded partner, his innocence triggered my curiosity and we grew increasingly closer. I must admit that at first, I liked him a lot.


    Yet soon, several problems arose.


    Niklas used to have a cat. But one day, his best friend, the now Grand Master of the Divine Glory, kicked it for scratching him. Incandescent with rage, Niklas beat the man half an inch into death, then wept at his comatose form for 72 hours. That''s when I first realized he had issues." Sven von Skoll, the Grand Master of the Divine Glory, was not merely Niklas'' most trusted cousin, but one of the imperial family''s most respected Exarchs.


    Who could think that he also carried such a past?


    "On another occasion, his little brother Hanns borrowed one of his knife-staves without permission, thinking that it was no big deal. Niklas broke his hands, then tearfully rushed to find the state''s top healers to fix them. It''s a form of extreme case of Intermittent Explosive Disorder. Believing that when controlled, the condition could prove useful¡ªdespite knowing about it¡ªMarcel did nothing to treat it. As for me, back then, I only knew corruption and destruction magic.


    Each time he victimized someone¡ªNiklas would come back to cry on my lap¡ªriddled with guilt. Perhaps because I humored him, he grew increasingly more reliant on me, forgetting his own growth. Things soon got weary," Eyes glued on Kilian, Jezebel pursued.


    "Over time my feelings changed, going from like to indifference. I initially planned to leave without a word, but Niklas had the nerve to demand that Grand Duke Eckhard, my then father, sends me to permanently reside in his palace until the wedding. Needless to say, I didn''t take that well, revealed my fehl form mid-court, and showed them true power. Marcel, Burkhart, so many of those that now lead the elder council received the trashing of their lives. But I also wasted enough powers that I had to return to the Fehl Plane."


    Although that battle saw the crushing defeat of house von Skoll, Kilian didn''t doubt that Jezebel must have expended a great deal of power. Naturally, she would rematerialize in the Fehl Plane.


    "I suppose that in Niklas'' mind, I tricked, played, humiliated and abandoned him. But in mine, he betrayed me as a man and failed my expectations. So Kilian¡ª" rising alongside Kilian, Jezebel straightened her posture on the couch, turned 180, and straddled him.


    "¡ªI dare say that in my two centuries of life, I''ve never liked anyone the way I like you. I can''t explain it, and feelings don''t need reason. I can do a lot for you with neither second thought nor regret. But please don''t misunderstand me, and don''t ever betray me. I...don''t want to lose this." Jezebel wrapped her hands around Kilian''s neck and rubbed her temple against his.


    "Likewise," keeping her tightly pressed against him, Kilian directly replied. For five minutes, they just lay there, rubbing against one another while the tension of their words still permeated the air.


    Pulling her head back, Jezebel flashed Kilian an impish grin, and exclaimed: "Now that the vile exes are out of the way, let''s plot world domination! What''s the big plan, my Lothario?"

 60 Philosophers Stone

    Reclining on the sofa, Kilian heaved a long sigh and shut his eyes close.


    "The three-step plan to world domination got a hell of a lot more complicated when I unwittingly threw the realm into civil war," he jested and waved his hand, causing a chart to emerge from the Hellforge and appear before Jezebel. On the chart, a step by step process culminating in the conquest of Orloth and its separation from the Arcadian Empire stood. Browsing it, Jezebel now realized the true reason behind Kilian''s wish to attend the Imperial Academy.


    "No wonders. It''s not the academy you wanted. You were just building a bridge."


    "Indeed. With my current strength, taking over the Imperial Academy is impossible. Though across my generation I will rarely meet rivals. Among the Department Chairs, more than one can give me trouble. As for Headmaster Hanns, he doesn''t need three spells to put me down.


    Moreover, there are way too many high-ranking von Skoll scions in the academy. Hanns, Ayden, Tristan, Estrella, Alan, Irma, all those are high-ranking members of the imperial family, with too many eyes glued on them. The closer they stand to me, the more barriers my schemes will face.


    What, or rather, who I really wanted, is Esther zu Ruhkfort, the Chair of Technomancy. By combining our abilities, taking over the academy''s magical technology would be child''s play. From that point on, we could effortlessly turn this place into our second and most powerful information network.


    At the same time, Esther''s hatred for her husband would open the road to a marriage with Carmen. The rest, you can imagine," Kilian explained with a tinge of exasperation. Thanks to the Celestial Garden, he''d collected vast information on Orloth''s aristocracy and royal family. 25 years ago, back when she''d just turned 18, Esther was forced by her father to marry King Erik in exchange for exclusive trade deals and 1.2 million qraftas. Three years later, she gave birth to Carmen. Rumor was that to placate Erik''s fears, Rupert executed Esther''s lover, and used her eldar mother''s life to coerce her.


    "You would replicate Ostria''s virus, turn Orloth''s aristocracy into Fehl Beasts, and use your serum to keep them under control. By the time your miniature star was completed, across Arcadia, not many could resist your forces," Now accustomed to Kilian''s train of thoughts, Jezebel inferred.


    "Indeed. But now I realize that I''ve been too naive. Esther isn''t that easy to subdue. In fact, I''m starting to think that she holds close ties to Niklas, the Technocracy, or both," Kilian presumed, and if at first the words puzzled Jezebel, a brief examination helped her see through the issues.


    "She''s the only non-Archon to hold a department chair position. Theoretically, we can blame that on her outstanding abilities. After all, in the Arcadian Empire, not many dedicate their lives to Technomancy. Skilled Archon technomancers are few and far between, and even they can''t compare to her.


    However, there are two issues. At 43, with her talent, how could she not be an Archon? Esther was born with nine Unlocked Roots and inherited the eldar blood of her captive mother. She should have risen to the Archon rank years ago. Meaning that..."


    "She''s either suppressing her true abilities, or someone else is suppressing them. As for the second issue, the emperor isn''t so stupid as to put one of the last remnants of the people he genocided at such a prestigious position. Even if he were, the elder council wouldn''t allow it. Which means¡­"


    "Either she''s on trial, or a certain someone helped suppress the elder council''s fears. Niklas, or spies without the imperial family''s best interests at heart¡ªthe Technocracy. And knowing Niklas¡­"


    "The Technocracy''s agents must have guaranteed that Esther can never rise to Archon or beyond. Perhaps they destroyed her Dra Roots, or put her magical abilities under a potent seal, be that as it may, my money is on the Technocracy."


    Kilian and Jezebel finished one another''s thoughts and came to the same conclusion¡ªand they weren''t far from the truth.


    "Assuming we''re correct, the Technocracy''s seepage of Arcadia is far, far more absolute than we imagined. We might be walking by members daily, and not even realize it. Worse, perhaps they found ways to control or impersonate von Skoll kin to further their goals." Kilian didn''t believe that any imperial kinsman would willingly join the Technocracy. After all, the von Skolls ruled Arcadia. What else did they need? For them to ruin their own foundation made no sense whatsoever.


    How then could he imagine that Burkhart von Skoll lead the Technocracy?


    "Now, Rupert rose in rebellion. Why did he dare? To say nothing of him, even the Grand Duke of Rulweil doesn''t dare rebel against the von Skoll dynasty. There are better ways to commit harakiri. For Rupert to take this stance shows that he possesses formidable backers. That, or he went mad from grief," Kilian''s voice trailed in uncertainty. Could such a ruthless man lose his mind for one lost son?


    For a second, he recalled the hours preceding his second death, and the tears Klaus wept in his study¡ªthey almost seemed genuine.


    "Be that as it may, the upcoming days will prove our assumptions. If Rupert isn''t backed by the Technocracy, his forces will collapse in a heartbeat. If he is, this will become a war where millions of lives are at stake. And depending on King Erik''s choices, Orloth may not survive it. Orloth falls, Ostria falls." Kilian never imagined that a day would come that he''d regret Klaus'' coma.


    With him, Orloth had nothing to fear. Without him, they could only pray the fatuous king would let Esther lead him by the nose, and doubly pray that the mother in her would work in her daughter''s best interests. Whirling leftward, Kilian lowered Jezebel on the couch and trapped her between his arms.


    "In any case, we''re not ready.


    I am too weak.


    Therefore, I must become strong, fast. And for that, I need a Philosopher''s Stone," he declared, and Jezebel''s eyes stretched in surprise.


    "The Eye must have grown much stronger, for you to dare create that type of thing. How many souls do you want?" She calmly asked.


    The advent of Technomancy might have made traditional Alchemy obsolete, but there still was one area where it excelled¡ªdefeating time. No matter how mighty, humans all had finite lifespans. Unless they could master some eldritch powers, time would still ruin them. A Philosopher''s Stone was one such power.


    Four types of souls existed, each with a matching color.


    White for immaculate souls.


    Light grey for principled souls.


    Dark grey, for corrupt souls.


    And black, for fiendish souls.


    Light and dark-grey souls were the most common. Dark Philosophers could use Soul Transference, a form of Dark Magic, to extract souls and twist them into a Philosopher''s Stone through a process known as the Eternal Decadence.


    Typically, they preferred dark-grey or black souls because those allowed them to skip one step. But of course, with lack of better options, most wouldn''t hesitate to harvest white or light-grey souls, then twist them into darker souls.


    As soul corruption was one of Ashera''s favorite activities, Jezebel was quite familiar with the craft. Depending on the stone''s soul power, magi could not only massively extend their lives and obtain Transmutation abilities, but also enhance their physical abilities, spell-power and dra. The more souls the Dark Philosopher sacrificed, the stronger the stone''s powers.


    Although Kilian didn''t receive traditional Alchemy training, with his Transmutation skills, he could accomplish all the steps with minimal efforts¡ªgranted he learned Soul Transference.


    "For my first stone, at least 30,000," Kilian replied, and as if eager to abandon her, Jezebel''s eyes almost popped out of their socket.

 61 Dark Eden Society

    Souls weren''t all equal. The more power they shouldered, the higher their value. The typical High Emissary''s soul was worth 500 common souls, while Archon souls averaged at 3,000. Needless to say, Kilian didn''t plan to hunt 30,000 common men. No, he would shorten the math with High Emissaries, Archons, or both.


    But how?


    "The academy has risen to maximum alert. This is no time for sudden disappearances or slaughter. Although we can rob souls without murder, the higher the victims'' abilities, the more dire the consequences they face. At the very least, all will drop to Lesser Emissaries," Kilian spoke Jezebel''s mind, for indeed those were the thoughts troubling her.


    The soul carried all Elemental Crystals and Dra Roots. Losing one''s soul was no different from losing any future on the arcane path. Man-made abominations aside, there was no exception.


    "Which is why I do not plan to target the academy. I will take a detour and join the Dark Eden Society¡ªusing the initiation to harvest a maximum of corrupt and fiendish souls. How does that sound?" Kilian asked with a mischievous smirk.


    "Naughty, and deviously cunning. Not even married yet that you''re going to orgy behind my back. The sorrow of being a loyal wife," Jezebel pursed her lips and sobbed in false lamentation. Rolling his eyes, Kilian stood up, and from his storage watch, summoned a palm-sized mirror.


    A secret cult predating the founding of the Imperial Academy, the Dark Eden Society gathered magi whose houses had been dealing in Dark Magic for centuries or millennia. Needless to say, most were high-ranking nobles. Even within the academy, among professors and students, many members of the Dark Eden Society hid. Interestingly, while none would blow their cover, the Dark Eden Society''s members were by no means criminals.


    In ancient times, the von Skoll emperors recognized that, just like prostitution, the attraction to Dark Magic was rooted in human nature. After all, side effects aside, Dark Magic is dreadful but simple. Given the right mindset and training, anyone can become a dark magus.


    Forcefully banning it would only give rise to stronger cabals of occultists, so instead, they legalized it on the condition that the dark magi banded in one secret order that''d serve the von Skolls across millennia.


    Often dubbed as the hidden order, across the ages, the Dark Eden society served as one of the von Skolls'' most reliable forces. At the same time, members enjoyed unique resources and privileges, able to indulge in wild hedonistic parties and sin at the state''s expenses. Of course, those secret orgies and rituals weren''t merely for pleasure. Through them, the Dark Eden''s magi also grew more powerful.


    All this was common knowledge, but Kilian didn''t doubt that to keep such a force under control for millennia, the von Skolls used many tricks. Rumor was that the Dark Eden members all gave up the ownership of their souls.


    Connecting to Phira¡ªArcadia''s web¡ªthrough his mirror, Kilian logged on his account and browsed the Dark Eden''s channel. There, a single link for admission requests stood.


    While the majority stemmed from high nobility, because of the imperial family''s desire to keep all noteworthy, aspiring dark magi under control, the Dark Eden Society wasn''t that difficult to join. Tapping in the 1.5 million he kept at his disposal, Kilian purchased an access ticket for 300,000 qraftas, and submitted the following admission request:


    "Although thanks to my 36 Unlocked Roots, I''ve already reached the top-level Lesser Emissary level, as things stand, I have no future. The Dark Eden society is my only hope to a brighter road, and I''m willing to give up anything to join its ranks."


    Kilian firmly believed that following his testing results, the Dark Eden Society awaited his application. Indeed, what better weapon could the von Skoll obtain than the most gifted magical talent of all time? As long as they could guarantee his submission, they would not think twice.


    And indeed, it didn''t take five minutes before a video meeting offer followed. Accepting it, Kilian saw his screen change, and the figure of a cloaked man appear.


    "Greetings, Kilian. We''ve reviewed your profile and are eager to welcome you to our ranks. However, we first must ensure that you will never harm the society''s interests by taking something more valuable than your life¡ªyour soul," the society member began, watching out for any change in Kilian''s face. Surprise flickered in his eyes¡ªhis face contorted into a frown¡ªand for six seconds, he kept his eyes shut close.


    "Don''t be surprised. For a talent of your caliber, once we give you access to the Dark Attribute, your future is hard to fathom. At the very least, you will become a top-level Exarch. Better, you might defeat history and rise to that mythical altitude Arcadians can only dream of.


    At that point, the empire''s military power could not fetter you. How can we help you onto such a road, if we can''t ensure your obedience? Kilian, don''t be naive," the member pursued, and after adding another five seconds of struggle for good measure, Kilian nodded in approval.


    The society member snapped his fingers, and Kilian''s screen turned into a dark-purple vortex from which a crimson coin emerged. Nimbly, the coin dropped into Kilian''s right hand.


    "Put a drop of your blood on the coin, and it will initiate a soul contract. After you agree to it, several First Circle Spells and the Arcanum of Occultism will flood your mind. Study them diligently. In the meantime, we shall dispatch invitations and prepare a sabbat in the academy''s northern forest.


    We will send you the exact time and location in three days. Remember, this ritual will not only grant you the Dark Attribute but open doors you never dreamed of. Come prepared." By the time the man finished his words, Kilian cut open his thumb and shed a blood drop on the coin.


    Absorbing it, it glowed in a vermillion light and fired a ray at Kilian''s forehead. A lengthy contract appeared in his mind. In a nutshell, it ensured that should he attempt to betray the emperor or the Dark Eden''s interests, his soul would automatically fall in their High Priest''s hands.


    The clauses didn''t allow for loopholes. Unfortunately for the Dark Eden, Kilian''s soul wasn''t wholly his, to begin with. To snatch it, they needed Ashera''s permission¡ªan impossible task. Without hesitation, Kilian acquiesced to the contract, and as promised, the Arcanum of Occultism flooded his mind alongside some First Circle Spells. Naturally, Kilian had very little interest in the First Circle Spells. The Arcanum of Occultism, however, was a wealth of information.


    After all, although he''d learned many of the occult principles from the dark magi he brain-wiped, they remained incomplete.


    "I just gave you access to our true channel and created an account for you. We will use it to contact you. The coin hides a single-use invisibility charm, use it to leave the academy unnoticed.


    In the meantime, feel free to browse the sub-channels and learn all you can. After your initiation, your performance will decide what kind of artifact and grimoire we will grant you.


    Oh and, welcome in advance to the Dark Eden Society." The member''s lips curved into a fiendish grin, and he vanished from the screen. Logging out, Kilian put the mirror back in the watch and heaved a long sigh.


    "To think that I''d end up joining a satanic cult. We''re only missing the ram skull. How low have I fallen..."

 62 Welcome to the Dark Eden

    With 36 Unlocked Roots, solid arcane knowledge and uncommon abilities, it didn''t take Kilian more than a few minutes to master the First Circle Spells. In fact, thanks to the Desolate Knives'' memories, he could also practice Second and Third Circle Occult Spells. However, having spent most of his free time crafting and powering Inyoka, he could not work on those.


    Across the next three days, Kilian focused on studying Soul Transference, Occultism, and Eromancy. Alas, if Fehl Magic possessed one weakness, it was its lack of Arcanum. A chaotic maelstrom of infinite possibilities, codifying Fehl Magic in one Arcanum was simply impossible.


    Moreover, fehls had no need for Arcana. For that reason, Arcana such as humanity''s Occultism, or Urag''s Eromancy became the closest derivatives of a Fehl Arcanum. And while knowledge had no direct effect on magical power, all Arcana possessed four levels of mastery: novice, adept, expert, master.


    Though a novice in both Occultism and Eromancy, in Technomancy and Transmutation, Kilian had already reached bypassed the adept level and reached the expert threshold.


    But the more he dwelled in Occultism, the more he realized that just like Fehl Magic, with enough willpower, Dra Control and experience, magi could rise above Dark Magic''s side effects, and unleash its true potential. Kilian thus set on a road never traveled and chose to create his very own Arcane Discipline: Abyssal Technomancy!


    In the meantime, the three days put his previous assumptions to the test. Against all odds, Grand Duke Rupert shocked the world by repelling a 3,000 men strong regiment of the empire''s Golden Army at the border of his grand duchy.


    Known as the emperor''s supreme army, the Golden Army''s weakest soldiers all were High Templars. Better, crafted in a technology monopolized by the von Skoll emperors, their golden power armors allowed the soldiers'' battle prowesses to rise to Quasi-Archons!


    For thousands of years, the Golden Army served as the Arcadian Emperors'' imperial guards and invincible weapons, with the gleam of their armors alone being more than enough to put high-ranking nobles on their knees.


    And while the Golden Army numbered over 100,000 elite troops, this victory broke its invincibility myth, and pushed many noble houses to believe that the von Skoll...were defeatable! Galvanized by the belief, and encouraged by Rupert''s startling energy weapons and war machines, many high-ranking nobles raised the flag of rebellion, and pledged their support to the grand duke!


    Driven by a network of teleportation circles, an army of three million elite troops led by the various rebel leaders gathered within Ruhkfort to lay waste on the empire! But while many expected the von Skolls'' response, the Prince of Koln, Erland von Skoll, divorced his wife¡ªwedded a commoner¡ªand announced his rejection of his imperial ancestry!


    In a bid to provide more humane living conditions to commoners¡ªand satisfy his long-suppressed love¡ªErland rebelled against his own house, and led a 500,000 man strong elite force to join the insurgents!


    Confusion swept the imperial family.


    State officials failed to react!


    And if that wasn''t enough, the imperial princes refused to unite. Ayden''s two elder brothers openly challenged his regency, dividing the elder council and the loyal branch princes. Worse, the Grand Orders stood on the sideline, not taking active parts in the conflict.


    Certain of their victory, Rupert''s troops left Ruhkfort, and plundered their way across the Arcadian Empire, leaving behind them pyramids of fire and gore. When the news reached him, Kilian gave an unsettling analysis:


    "As we expected, the Technocracy is backing Rupert''s vendetta. However, if they truly wished to fight a decisive battle with the imperial family, they would never do it through a mere Rupert. No, this is a diversion.


    The von Skolls are playing the lambs to eat the wolf, unware that its eyes look far beyond them. And if we are to trust my Revelation, the Imperial Academy is the true battlefield."


    Hearing those words, Lena who''d just condensed her first crystal and was on her way to the second, couldn''t help but feel that perhaps joining the Imperial Academy wasn''t the idea of the century.


    At the dusk of the third day, the Dark Eden Society contacted Kilian to give him the date and location of his initiation. He still had one week left.


    Dozens of Aristocrats from all across the empire would attend, but while it wasn''t specified, Kilian didn''t doubt that some of the academy''s professors would also be present. After all, without their assistance, how could the Society organize the secret meeting?


    ¡­


    Making a maximum use of his time, Kilian polished his understanding of Occultism, mastering all the dark spells at his disposal, and bringing his Arcanum knowledge to the adept level. At the same time, he put his new abilities to rigorous practice through various fleshcrafting experiments, improved Inyoka''s strength by a good margin, and grasped the principles of Soul Transferance.


    At first, the ongoing civil war''s impact on classes remained minimal. But after one week of fighting and discouraging results on the imperial side, the academy prepared for the worst, announced the upcoming Sura Hunting Games, and urged the professors to focus on grooming their students'' battle skills rather than theoretical knowledge.


    Even for Technomancy students, duel classes became the norm. Of course, unlike their peers, they mostly relied on the tools they created.


    After the likes of Anke and Carmen passed theirs, Kilian applied for a silver robe and passed the examination¡ªleaving the browns'' ranks behind. Unsurprisingly, Carmen avoided him like the plague.


    Reclining in a sofa, Kilian awaited 23:57 to stand up, don a black cloak, and exit his chambers. Injecting his dra into the crimson coin, Kilian triggered its invisibility charm, and left the academy proper.


    Following the directions, he soon landed in a dark secluded forest in the northeastern part of the island, and raised the coin. Dark-purple light surged from it, condensing a violet energy gate that opened to welcome Kilian.


    "What an elaborate cloaking spell," he remarked. The Dark Eden Society hadn''t merely cloaked the area, but almost turned it into an alternate dimension. Clearly, their means and abilities outpaced the average grand order.


    The invisibility charm dispersed, and stepping through the gate, Kilian landed in the very same woods, except that now¡ª66 cloaked figures lined up in two rows¡ªopening a road toward an onyx altar where six additional figures stood in one line. Six lithe figures kneeled before the leaders, kowtowing toward the altar. The kneeling six aside, all wore peacock masks with long dazzling peacock feathers adorning their foreheads, and wine glasses in their right hands.


    Dark-purple flames billowed from the altar, and right behind it, the statue of a 2.3 meters tall daemon with a humanoid torso, the legs of a satyr, the tail of a peacock, and the head of a wolf stood with his clawed hands outstretched.


    Emerald flames flickered in the daemonic statue''s eyes. But from them, Kilian couldn''t feel any dark magic. Those flames didn''t have an attribute.


    Fehl magic.


    Unfazed, Kilian stepped forward, tremors shook the ground and between the two rows of society members, a rectangular pool of violet liquid emerged. In tandem, the six leaders beckoned for Kilian to cross the pool, and without delay, he dove in.


    Thus, Kilian took his first step into the Dark Eden Society, never expecting that this one ploy would not only unravel the darkest secrets of house von Skoll, but forever change his destiny.

 63 The Scam

    Kilian had barely taken a step into the dark pool that a wild surge of occult energies snuck past his flesh and lashed his soul. Shrugging off the blow, he took the second step, sinking deeper in the violet pool. The dozens of society members and six leaders eyed his every move with rapt attention, but as he neared the middle of the pool, their gaze shifted toward the violet stream.


    From its initial shade, the pool took a dark-gray hue¡ªproving that Kilian possessed a corrupt soul. Seeing this, all members nodded in approval, took one sip of their wine glasses, and poured the rest on the ground.


    Red fumes sprang forth, cloaking the pool and Kilian in surging smoke. Light-gray souls weren''t suited for Dark Magic. Only dark-gray and black souls could learn the craft. Had Kilian possessed a brighter soul, the dozens of society members would have killed him on the spot¡ªor at least attempted to. Now instead, they baptized him in raw nefarious energies.


    Just like the invisible waves of occult forces released by the pool, the red fumes fueled Kilian''s Dra Roots with their horrid powers, making his dra increase bits by bits. By the time he reached the end, Kilian''s dra had increased by 347, making his current reserves stand at 27,017. But while other initiates in his shoes would have gone made with joy, as far as Kilian was concerned, the boost was negligible.


    Wrapping Kilian in an energy orb, the red fumes lifted him from the pool to land before the altar''s stairs. Behind him, the pool regained its violet shade. Ahead, the kowtowing ladies crawled to the sides, three at the left, and three at the right.


    At last, the master of ceremonies stepped forward, and while his face remained covered by the peacock mask, Kilian could see some faint similarities to one of the academy''s high-ranking members. And when the man''s voice echoed, all doubts left Kilian''s mind.


    "Kilian zu Verden, welcome to the Dark Eden society. You''ve passed the critical point, the rest is all but formalities that will determine the boons you receive from our lord. I''m afraid that in the upcoming step, talent and luck are the sole variables," the master of ceremony began, and since his voice wasn''t modified by magic, Kilian could recognize him as the Chair of Light, Adam von Skoll. Sweeping the other five, he identified three figures, the Chairs of Lightning, Fire, and Wind whose sensual eyes men could hardly forget. As for the last two, they didn''t belong to the academy.


    That four of the academy''s department chairs, especially Adam, appeared for his initiation, didn''t surprise Kilian. That a cabal of dark magi called a fehl, lord, didn''t surprise him either. Arcadians may not believe in God, but they did dread the Devil. They dreaded Fehl. Dark magi''s highest aspirations had always been Fehl Ascension. Naturally, they formed cults of worship around the daemonic entities.


    But that a secret order bound to the imperial family dared worship a fehl? Now that, Kilian didn''t expect. For thousands of years¡ªthe Baptism of Fire¡ªthat three hours long slow burning of all suspected of Fehl Magic, mutations or consorting with daemons, had been enforced by the imperial family.


    Yet, a secret society groomed by the Arcadian Emperors and loyal only to them, could worship daemons? How far could the hypocrisy stretch?


    "I understand that you must have many questions. Before we answer them, first pay your respects to lord Adramelech and receive his blessings," Adam stated, and motioned for Kilian to cross the stairs and kneel before Adramelech''s statue. Though thanks to Jezebel, Kilian possessed some knowledge of the Fehl Plane, he didn''t know much about its various rulers.


    Therefore, the name Adramelech caused him no major reaction and as instructed, he passed the stairs to kneel before the daemon. Spinning 180, Adam bowed toward Adramelech''s statue, and spoke words Kilian immediately found problematic.


    "Ancestral Father, we invite you on this night to appraise this new soul, and grant him your blessings. Oh, Ancestral Father, Prince of War, Tyranny and Glory, Master of Stratagems, answer our prayers and bestow upon this soul your infernal grace!" Adam beseeched, and while his prayers echoed the society members kneeled toward the statue.


    There was only one existence Arcadian nobles would refer to as Ancestral Father: their house founder. Knowing this, Kilian felt a stampede of outrageous thoughts race across his mind.


    The emerald flames in the statue''s eyes burned with a brighter hue. Flame strands gushed forth, spinning to draw a green pentagram that dropped on Kilian, and set his body ablaze!


    Embroiled in a whirlwind of fehl flames, Kilian felt the world around him spin. The scenery changed, and carried by the flames, he landed in a green volcanic world. In that world, hovering amidst erupting volcanoes¡ªAdramelech stood in his full glory¡ªand stared right into Kilian''s eyes.


    "Two Arcane Bloodlines and one is von Skoll. You''re a Death Swindler?" Adramelech remarked, speaking in a smooth voice contrasting with his monstrous appearance, and canted his head to the left. Death Swindler was a common term for those that successfully escaped their predestined time of death through methods such as Soul Transference and undeath.


    Knowing that there was no point in hiding this from Adramelech, Kilian gave an approving nod.


    "So you''re a transmigrated von Skoll boy. That would explain why you have the Arcane Bloodline but not the genes. Your body is also the product of high-level Fehl Magic, I smell Ashera''s touch. Hmm, irritating.


    Though, I sense in you untold potential, far more than I had at your age. Perhaps unlike all those failures you''re worthy of standing by my side.


    This is not the stage I use to appraise my descendants. Let me readjust it and give you what you deserve," Adramelech stated, and snapped his fingers. Blinding light overwhelmed Kilian''s sight, and by the time he''d regained his senses, he again faced Adramelech''s statue. Before the society members'' astounded eyes, dozens of emerald flame strands surged from Adramelech''s forehead to dive into Kilian''s¡ªleaving a glowing pentagram in the middle of his brow.


    Alarmed, Adam recoiled. Yet the party was only getting started. The leading members were awestruck to see Kilian''s eyes go from hazel to amber-colored, and 36 red clouds appear above his head. Still above them, a massive veil of emerald fehl energies condensed, twisting to show Adramelech''s face in its midst.


    On the onix altar¡ªone after another¡ª36 candles appeared with the same flickering flames that now echoed Adramelech''s name. Staggering, Adam dropped on his knees and bowed toward the Fehl Prince''s visage.


    "I see. Very well, Full Bestowment," Adramelech uttered, and a magnificent green lightning bolt descended from the dark sky to strike Kilian. Again, the force didn''t harm his body but transformed his flesh, blood and soul, readjusting Ashera''s work to make him...a true von Skoll. But once Kilian''s genetic rearrangement reached the end, nine blood drops left Adramelech''s lips to merge with his body. Again, his lineage suffered eldritch changes, going far beyond the typical von Skoll scion.


    With the emerald flames coating his form, Kilian''s dra increased by a staggering 75%¡ªand while the members had yet to recover¡ªa peacock tattoo appeared on his right arm. With nothing else to do, Adramelech''s ethereal face vanished into nothingness.


    Silence fell, jaws dropped, and the dozens of society members stared agape at Kilian who, for once, failed to anticipate a chain of events. In fact, he couldn''t even grasp the full significance of what just occurred.


    Adam, however, did and bowed toward Kilian.


    "All hail Your Eminence, all hail Your Divine Highness, for henceforth, you are the Grand Herald of the Dark Eden Society and the Divine Prince of Arcadia!" Adam proclaimed, and snapping out of their torpor, his fellow society members prostrated themselves before Kilian and sang the same tune.


    "All hail Your Eminence, all hail Your Divine Highness!"


    Taken aback, Kilian could only stare slack-jawed, with eyes wide open.

 64 The Imperial Strife Begins

    A joke, a sham, a slap in the face. After racking his brain to come up with the perfect plan to rob the souls of all those felons, they bowed and pledged allegiance? What next? Raise the flag of rebellion and assault the Imperial City?


    For the first time in this life, Kilian didn''t know how to handle the situation, and so asked the only thing a sensible man would, "What is the meaning of this?" But as if echoing his thoughts, the 36 candles vanished in an emerald blaze, leaving behind four items.


    First, a black onyx ring encrusted with nine nail-sized green crystals whose nature even Kilian couldn''t identify. Second, a large black grimoire covered with glowing crimson veins stretching from a scarlet stone. Third, a palm-sized sangria shard shimmering in the dark night. From that shard, Kilian could hear the jammed heartbeats of dormant creatures. Last, an obsidian dagger around which green flames and crackling lightning coiled.


    "The Grand Herald''s four relics: the Ring of Change, the Grimoire of Adramelech, the Slammer of Legions and the Anathema," Adam explained while staring at the four relics with complete reverence. Though their ownership could forever change his destiny, the thought of robbing them never once crossed his mind. Whoever dared faced worse than death.


    While artifacts were ranked as Minor, Greater and Divine, relics had no rank but either possessed extraordinary powers that scaled with the owner or matched the divine. Those four relics belonged to the first category.


    "I understand that Your Eminence must have many questions. I shall answer them all. First, our Lord, the Fehl Prince Adramelech, is none other than the founder of our house¡ªEginolf von Skoll¡ªfirst Emperor of Arcadia," Adam explained, and though he''d already expected it, Kilian still couldn''t restrain his stupor.


    "As you probably know, 3,000 years ago, led by His Divine Majesty, the Grand Orders rebelled against the clergy and wiped out false worship from Arcadia. But before they could celebrate their victory, the blood elders of the Chiropteran Dynasty, the wight-city-lords of the Undying Horde, and the leviathans of the Wailing Sea launched an irresistible invasion that awoke humanity to the existence of those alien threats.


    If not for the help of a foreigner, Arcadia would have perished. That foreigner''s name isn''t recorded in history, only the succeeding emperors know of his details. But ultimately, he was sacrificed by His Divine Majesty to open the road for humanity''s all-out counterattack. This marked the beginning of the Arcadian Empire.


    The strongest magus of his generation, the first emperor unified the land, granted tributary status to the four kingdoms, formed a pact of mutual assistance with the eldars, and died not long afterward. What the world doesn''t know is that His Divine Majesty, was, in fact, a Fehl Mutant, subdued his madness, and following a contract with a Fehl Overlord, ascended to daemonhood.


    On the eve of his ascension, our lord had us establish the Dark Eden Society and announced that when a worthy descendant presented himself, he would bestow upon him his true blood alongside four relics to lead Arcadia in its last battle against the foreign threats. You are the chosen one.


    His Divine Majesty, our Ancestral Father¡ªgave upon you his true blood¡ªgranted you his Arcane Bloodline and made you Grand Herald of our order!


    With the Mark of Adramelech alone, the 32,000 members of the Dark Eden Society are yours to do with as you see fit! In our order, your authority supersedes the emperor''s. Outside, as Arcadia''s Divine Prince, the imperial treasury and the Divine Glory are yours to command!" Adam proclaimed, and instantly, Kilian felt a mixture of awe and grief.


    In fact, since the mark appeared on his arm, Kilian could feel heaps of information slowly crowd his mind. The Fehl Plane housed billions of daemons spread across six dominions, each ruled by one Overlord. But while the Fehl Overlords dominated the plane, it was the 66 Fehl Princes that handled wars and day-to-day activities.


    To grow beyond their birth potential, fehls only had one option: to devour other fehls! But while it put no restriction on Daemons, Nobles and Lords, the Fehl Plane possessed one rule: 6 Overlords, 66 Princes, not one more, not one less!


    And while the Overlords'' position was set in stone, every now and then, a new prince would rise to break the balance. Such a rise always met brutal assault. Yet, in that environment, Adramelech ascended.


    Ranked second among the 66 Fehl Princes, leader of 126 daemonic legions, and only human to ever rise to Fehl Prince, though a junior on fehl standards¡ªAdramelech''s name was one of power and authority¡ªforcing billions to quiver in utter dread. To have achieved such a position with his starting point made him worthy of respect.


    However, though he could feel the legions of souls of all Dark Eden Society members¡ªthe High Priest''s included¡ªnow in his full control, Kilian found no joy in his new position.


    A scam!


    This was a dreadful scam!


    "The High Priest of the Dark Eden Society is one of the several hidden von Skoll Exarchs. In fact, all those hidden Exarchs are War Priests of the Dark Eden Society, ranking only below the High Priest. Although they don''t have hordes of templars to boost their numbers, on Archon and Exarch quantity alone, the Dark Eden Society is the Arcadian Empire''s number one order.


    For thousands of years, this order served the best interests of the imperial family. But now, I have absolute control over it. That alone will bring me no end of trouble. But if that wasn''t enough, I can command the Divine Glory and access the imperial treasury at will?


    What monarch can tolerate my existence? Besides those zealous Dark Eden members, what imperial kin will stand idle as an outsider takes such a prominent position? And in what world will the Divine Glory submit to my leadership?


    The news can''t spread. If they do, we must prepare for an all-out war," Kilian reasoned, but alas, it was too late. In the instant Adramelech granted him the Full Bestowal, the Arcane Bloodlines of all von Skoll kin stirred, and his face appeared in their minds.


    Marcel, the previous emperor and current leader of the imperial family, Gerlach the Grand Master of the Divine Glory, and Burkhart the Mahana Arch-Senator of the Technocracy¡ªthough separated by dozens of kilometers¡ªall three behemoths rose from their seats and summoned their subordinates.


    Before Kilian''s bestowment, the imperial family was a united block threatened only by the rooted Technocracy. But now, in the von Skolls'' high-level''s eyes, the Dark Eden Society became a volatile force.


    No one had any time to ask why an outsider received the Full Bestowment. That no longer mattered. The elder council gathered, excluding the elders from the Dark Eden. At the end of the day, besides those von Skolls trained from infancy to maturity to serve and lead the Dark Eden¡ªwhile they didn''t mind the pacts and boons¡ªthe von Skolls no longer revered Adramelech to the point of blind obedience. Unless he returned in the flesh, the likes of Marcel would never just accept his will.


    And as he lounged in his chambers, flanked by Estrella and Tristan, Ayden heaved a regretful sigh.


    "I suppose that all attempts at befriending him now end. The imperial family only has one leader; Arcadia only has one monarch. Kilian must die," Ayden announced in a deadpan, absentminded tone.


    "When shall we act?" Tristan coolly asked. Though he too initially wished to rope Kilian in, the situation suffered seismic changes. Kilian just went from a wealthy youth with a limited future in magic to an unrestrained dark magus at the head of one of the imperial family''s most critical powers, and with legal rights above the emperors''.


    Worse, most people forgot that the Divine Prince possessed the authority to depose, enthrone, or outright replace Arcadia''s Emperor and Crown Prince. For the imperial loyalists, calling him public enemy number one was no exaggeration.


    "Right now, he can call upon four Exarchs and dozens of Archons to act as his bodyguards. Attacking him will only lead to open warfare. No, we wait for the Sura Hunting Game," Ayden replied and closed his eyes. However, Estrella''s narrowed in disagreement.


    "What makes you think he will attend? He has all the reasons not to." If Kilian had half a brain, he would see the perils of his situation. Why then would he expose himself in the Sura Hunting Game?


    "We will give him all the reasons to," Tristan countered in lieu of Ayden, and the three got to work.

 65 Crowning the Herald R-18

    The initiation ritual had reached its final stage. Though Kilian got more in one night than most of the society members would in their whole lives, Adramelech''s flames still swirled around his form. Only by completing the initiation could he extinguish them.


    And if before, the 72 society members observed him with interest¡ªawaiting the final stage to indulge in a full-blown orgy¡ªthe men now stood with utmost reverence while the females'' eyes gleamed with fanatical adoration. Regardless of their position in the society¡ªduring their initiation and various cult meetings¡ªthey all witnessed Adramelech in his fehl form.


    But to them, his monstrous form did not differ from divinity incarnate. Adramelech was their God, and the Grand Herald the dark messiah, living avatar of their deity meant to lead them all to eternal glory! Never did they expect that in their generation, the Grand Herald would appear!


    The Dark Eden Society''s true leader, Adramelech''s mortal voice and hand, was crowned before their eyes! What a glorious day! Even the three female chairs couldn''t wait for Kilian to proceed so they could put themselves at his feet and satisfy his depravity. But before them, the six ladies standing at the extreme left and right of the platform stood and lined-up before Kilian.


    Though devoid of magical powers, those were no common girls, but maidens of ancient houses prepared solely for occasions such as this. Belonging to a caste of their own, the Dark Eden Society referred to them as the aistis, ladies dedicated solely to Adramelech and his herald.


    In typical initiations, they''d pour the Elixir of Decadence into the pool, and help the new initiates bathe in the Fehl Prince''s profane grace by singing Adramelech-gifted songs. While their inhibition collapsed, the fehl''s dark glory would fill the initiates'' minds. They would then proceed with the orgy. But in the herald''s coronation, their role became different. And knowing that this unexpected day would forever change their lives, the aistis didn''t dare delay. And dropping their cloaks on the ground, revealed six stainless, tantalizing figures.


    Though all stood between 18 and 20, some possessed large, milky white breasts, able to fit a DD cup while others could barely fit a C. But while their figures''s shapes varied, all neared divine proportion, giving the voluptuous girls striking hourglass figures, and the more modest ones a pert glow, and irresistible appeal.


    Before such a row, monks would abjure their faith, honest men turn beasts, and Kilians would step forward to claim their prizes. So step forward Kilian did. Stretching out his hands, he invited two of the girls to uncloak him and take off his clothes. In a flash, they left their ranks and flanked their herald.


    With the tenderness of caring lovers, they pulled down Kilian''s cloak, letting the harmless emerald flames brush their porcelain skin and fill them with aching needs. As they unfastened Kilian''s belt and pulled down his pants, the two aistis found themselves tracing his body, eyes glued on his amber hues as if he was not a man, but a marvel sent by the heavens to bring them into the embrace of dark salvation.


    In tandem, the remaining four joined their hands in prayer signs, triggering a massive surge of purple light from the center of the rectangular pool. A light dome shafted into the sky, revealing a brown urn whose lid opened before the cabal of fehl worshippers. Starry kaleidoscopic liquid poured from the urn, tumbling into the pool and tinting it in the same multicolor hue.


    Stripped of all clothing, Kilian wrapped his hands around the two ladies'' waists, made eyes at the remaining four, and strode toward the pool. Taking the hint, they followed his tracks, and together, the seven dove in. Fehl Magic surged from the pool''s core, bathing the seven of them, and marking the ladies'' breasts with an illusory, chained Mark of Adramelech.


    Aware of what it entailed, they didn''t flinch, instead sticking out their tongues toward Kilian. Arousal filled the air. Dozens of men and women alike wished to just drop their pants and rut till dawn. But in this setting, they dared not.


    In synch, the 66 High Emissaries and 6 Archons stretched their hands toward the night sky, chanting eldritch songs that made lavender fumes billow from all sides and enshroud the pool. Ignoring it all, Kilian indulged in a rare moment of pure decadence, with no thought beside sinking in the hold of the temptation surrounding him.


    Sultry ragged breaths buffeted his face, chest, and sides, speaking tales of the aistis'' aching desires.


    "Your Eminence, from infancy to maturity, we''ve lived to serve you. Please take us all, grace us all, and lead us to the world of fehl rule," they whispered in Kilian''s ears. A weaker man would have lost himself. Yet, when those words echoed, Kilian maintained full control, acting only to bring the ritual to the end.


    "Very well," he replied, held the chin of the aisti at his left, and pushed his lips onto hers. Her eager tongue stuck out, entangling with Kilian as she closed her eyes, and let raw lust guide her moves. For minutes, the girl relished in Kilian''s lips, breeding jealousy in the hearts of her long-time sisters.


    Sensing it, he paused, broke the kiss, and switched to the one at his right. She too stood ready, welcoming his lips into hers with a passion that didn''t lose to her sister''s. The muffled, meshing sound of their coiling tongues mixed with the occasional gulping, intensifying the needs of the neglected.


    Eager to claim their prize, two flicked their tongues across Kilian''s nipples, two others went underwater to claim his cock, and the last stroked his balls while lashing her tongue on his neck. The fresh, dripping juice of their cunts poured into the pool, fueling its debauched scent, and putting the observers'' faith to the test.


    At Kilian''s left and right, the flankers rubbed their soaked nether lips up and down his hips¡ªmaking his cock harden from the stimulation¡ªand spring to full mast before its polishers'' lust-glazed eyes.


    "Your Eminence, allow us to polish you," they whispered in Kilian''s ears, tempting the devil in his heart, and the fire in his cock. The fire answered. His cock-veins pulsed in expectation, powering the meat-lance that towered above its soon to be victims with the imposing girth of a stallion.


    At first, the ladies ran their tongues across Kilian''s cock-veins, occasionally kissing the sides and underside of his cock. But soon, they gave up whatever restraint remained, and competed for every inch of the profane meat at their disposal. Sensing the astis in his arms grow restless, Kilian gave their butt cheeks a good squeeze, and snuck his fingers into their cunts, striking them where they wanted the most.


    "Anh...anh...ahh!" Loud moans and slurping sounds soon intertwined within the pool, forcing the weak-willed observers to stroke themselves, whereas the stronger ones held on.


    Like a virtuoso, Kilian''s fingers went between the four crowding his torso, avoiding only the two polishing his balls and rod. One slightly pushed his cock up, giving herself better access to his balls while the other seized the opportunity, stretched her lips as far as she could, and impaled her throat on Kilian''s cock.


    Almost choking on the massive meat-slab, the girl took a second to adjust to the girth while her cult-sister suckled Kilian''s balls with gentle care. The rutting stag in him took over, and pulling out his fingers, he pushed the cocksucker off his rod, lifted her into the air, and rammed her right on his starving meat-slab!


    "Ohhh!" The girl whose name Kilian didn''t even know, groaned in a mixture of pain and eldritch bliss as Adramelech and Ashera''s marks pumped her body with overwhelming waves of fehl energies, and turned the first time''s pain into an unforgettable dream.


    Throwing her head back, she submitted to Kilian''s grasp, and holding onto her waist, he drove his corrupt meat-slab up and down her gripping walls.


    Tight! Oh so very tight!


    At first, Kilian felt like a prisoner attempting to force his hand between bar cells. But the beauty of the female body revealed itself, and though mind-numbed from his meat''s heat and fehl might, the girls'' walls expanded and contracted to perfection, giving Kilian the squeezing only maidens could provide.


    The pounding thus began!

 66 Dark Gif

    While Kilian jack-hammered the aisti, the observers didn''t stay idle, increasing the rhythm of their eldritch songs even as they struggled with the urges consuming them. The lavender fumes coalesced in a ball of occult energies that fired a ray of dark light at Kilian''s forehead.


    Ignoring it, he indulged in the pounding, indulged in the aisti''s unrestrained moans, the sensation of her rump smacking on his rod, and of her slick insides sucking him in. The night became a blur. The aistis took turns on Kilian''s cock, milking his balls of all their spunk in their first-class cum-drainers. As the sixth clutched the pool''s edge, hammered by Kilian''s meat-slab¡ªthe ritual reached its end¡ªmaking his 75% dra boost turn into a passive ability.


    From that moment on, every time he gained additional dra, it would increase by 75%. A unique gift from Adramelech to his herald. Mind-boggled by the hypnotic fumes, the dozens of members failed to realize that the sixth aisti aside, the others had now turned into harpy-like monster girls. Though their curves still varied, all possessed the clawed, feathered legs, and arms of harpies, with large, ultramarine wings sprouting from their hands, and peacock tails from their backs.


    After Kilian busted his nut in the sixth''s cunt, she too took that form. Thanks to the conflict between Ashera''s Mark and Adramelech''s, Kilian spunk skipped one stage, now directly turning his partners into Fehl Shifters. Moreover, following the herald''s coronation ritual, the aistis that served him would obtain fehl blessings, and rise to low-level Archons with Adramelech-given arcane knowledge.


    Still, with their current level of experience, a true Archon wouldn''t take long to dispose of them. As for why they all took the same appearance? Their aisti training was to blame. With the sixth aisti''s blissful fall, the ritual officially ended. Yet, Kilian didn''t stop, and beckoned for the three female chairs to join him in the pool¡ªthey didn''t waste a second.


    In tandem, the three tossed off their cloaks and dresses, leaped into the pool, and pressed their voluptuous curves on Kilian. Driven by their trance-like state, the remaining society members abandoned themselves to a wild orgy, rutting across four hours before the fumes'' effects ran out, and their limbs gave out. By now, Kilian lay on the ground, covered by the six aistis and three department chairs whose tongues flopped out over their lips.


    Sweat and sexual fluids entwined to moisten the bodies and earth below. The pool turned into billowing steam and vanished from the ritual grounds. Pushing the ladies aside, Kilian checked his status screen.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Half Fehl]


    [Age: 18]


    [Magus Rank: low-level High Emissary]


    [Battle Prowess: mid-level Fehl Noble]


    [Dra Reserves: 47,280]


    [Knowledge Points: 1,072]


    [Implants: Lv. 2 Cyberkinesis Chip]


    [Mutations: Stage II Eye of Fehl, Fehl Heart]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation, Gift of Adramelech]


    [Bloodline Abilities: Atomkinesis, Daemonic Wolf Form]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 4 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 4 Transmutation]


    ---


    The results brought no surprise. After having his genes adjusted to match Adramelech''s, and receiving nine drops of his blood, it would be strange if Kilian didn''t step closer to daemonhood. With a fehl heart, his regeneration abilities not only drastically improved, but unless beheaded, he couldn''t die. His lifespan also tripled. Yet, in Kilian''s eyes, even immortality didn''t have much appeal. Unless he broke free of Ashera''s contract, the day his mind no longer pursued any goal on the Mortal Plane, his body would vanish from this world, and rematerialize in Ashera''s domain.


    Undisturbed, Kilian stood up. Interestingly, the Hellforge no longer appraised his Battle Prowess on human magus standards¡ªusing Fehl ranks instead. At the same level the average fehl could effortlessly maul ten human magi, meaning that before the current Kilian, ten mid-level Archons weren''t worth more than punching bags.


    Crossing the altar''s stairs, Kilian picked the four relics and stored them in his watch. But while each possessed marvelous abilities, the Ring of Change appealed to him the most. The oldest of the four relics, the ring granted its owner access to three abilities, each with three uses per day and lasting for 15 minutes: Invisibility, Emotion Reversal, and Power Swapping.


    Self-explanatory, Invisibility enabled its user to vanish from sight. As long as the ring-owner didn''t use offensive moves or cast spells, the cloak would remain unbroken. Next, Emotion Reversal enabled the ring''s owner to pick an emotion in the victims and turn it into its opposite. Love to hatred, loyalty to disloyalty, gentleness to brutality¡ªunless the target''s magical powers exceeded Kilian''s by more than one rank¡ªthey couldn''t resist. As for Power Swapping, with it Kilian could force two individuals to swap their magical abilities, and again, they couldn''t exceed him by more than one rank.


    In this ring, Kilian saw endless possibilities. Retrieving his clothes, he got dressed, and with a smile, walked toward Adam who lay inert between two society members.


    "Wake up," he ordered, using the soul bond to force Adam out of his dreams. The von Skoll''s eyes opened wide, and he kneeled toward Kilian.


    "Your Eminence, how may I assist you?" Adam inquired in such a respectful tone that a bystander would have mistaken Kilian for the emperor.


    "I will summon the three War Priests and the High Priest to the Imperial Academy. Arrange their immediate arrival. Also, pick the weakest 100 society members at High Emissary rank and send them to me."


    "At once!" Undisturbed by the command, Adam bowed and took his leave, not even bothering to ask why Kilian wanted those 100 members. Although the Dark Eden Society controlled over 13,000 High Emissaries, as the new master, Kilian couldn''t cripple his own legs. After stripping the 100 of their souls, he would fleshcraft them into human-war-machines, and return them to the society.


    With nothing else to do, Kilian contacted the Dark Eden''s four exarchs, ordering them to join the academy as soon as possible. Little did he expect that they already were on the way. Bringing the aistis alongside him, Kilian returned to his quarters. Back in his chambers, Jezebel and Lena played a card game¡ªawaiting his return.


    But seeing him walk in with six submissive bombshells, Jezebel burst into laughter.


    "Ha! See Lena? This is what I was telling you about. We call this pokemon hunting," she chortled. The words put no smile on Lena''s lips, and annoyed, she dropped her cards.


    "I don''t think this is funny. This is an invasion, an invasion! One room can only hold so many, and if we don''t discuss strategies to ogle Master''s love, we will soon be out on the streets!" She exclaimed as if forgetting that seven others stood in the room. Unprepared for such words, Kilian tripped¡ªalmost falling face first.


    On the following day, as the civil war still raged, the elder council made a startling announcement, and officially had Kilian adopted into the imperial family, with a high-ranking von Skoll elder serving as his foster father. And to the aristocracy''s stupor¡ªKilian received the "von" of true kinsmen¡ªbecoming an imperial descendant.


    In a flash, the name "Kilian von Skoll" swept through the Arcadian aristocracy, prompting all nobles to investigate his background, potential and abilities. When the news reached him, Kilian saw through the ploy and realized...that the battle had already begun.

 67 Mark of Greed

    "It''s a clever trick. They''re turning the rebellious aristocracy against me," Kilian, who lounged on Lena''s lap, explained while Jezebel smoked vaporized dra from a vape pen. The six aistis sat around the couch.


    "On the outside, they''re deferring to my new status and enabling me to enjoy all von Skoll privileges in the open. But when the news spread, the aristocracy will investigate my background and realize I have 36 Unlocked Dra Roots but no attributes. Instantly, they will infer that the imperial family recruited and plans to turn me into their new weapon. With the von Skolls'' resources, setting up a ritual to give me at least one attribute is entirely doable. The Dark Eden Society is a prime example of that. From that point on, my value experiences a seismic change." With a chuckle, Kilian rose in the couch, and from his watch summoned a chart detailing Rupert''s current advances.


    "To the aristocracy, the von Skolls are at their weakest. With Rupert''s military successes, many must believe that the dynasty nears its end. The fence sitters will soon make a stand, and it won''t be in favor of the imperial family. For too long those nobles have been wanting to get rid of the Arcadian Emperors'' absolute power. Ayden''s recent bullying and Niklas'' mass-purges only give them more reasons to.


    How then can they tolerate a new weapon with the potential of becoming a hundred times more dreadful than Niklas? No, even before they join Rupert, the fence sitters will prepare my murder. If they fail, the von Skoll assassins strike and shift the blame. If they succeed, all the better." While Jezebel and Lena didn''t show much surprise, as they listened to Kilian''s words, the aistis'' eyes blazed with fury.


    On the one hand, never could they expect that the imperial family would be so crazed as to reject the will of Adramelech, and turn against his herald. On the other hand, after turning into Kilian''s Fehl Shifters, he became their raison d''¨ºtre. Those that threatened him all deserved to die.


    "Never mind. If the elder council wants to play, let''s play. From now on, until the Sura Hunting Game begins, act in the most tyrannical manner possible. Let''s give them the impression that my new status got over my head, and hasten their planning," Kilian told the ladies, then connected to the high priest''s mind.


    "Make a formal marriage proposal to Gerlach for his daughter''s hand and spread the news throughout Arcadia. The answer doesn''t matter. Also, have the Duke of Verden publically abdicate his titles to Olaf von Verden. Make sure the world deduces it all stems from my will." Though startled by Kilian''s order, the 340 years old high priest didn''t delay, and carried on his task.


    Closing his eyes, Kilian was about to dive into the Hellforge when Jezebel''s voice echoed in his mind.


    "Ready to play the alchemist?"


    "Mhm."


    "Try not to make it flawless."


    "I will try my best and accept the result. However, going in to create a defective product is not my style."


    "You know that''s not what I mean. Flawless stones drive trouble. Across the ages, they often brought their owners more harm than good."


    "There is no end of legends of men whose greed for immortality incurred nature''s wrath, making them bear the mark of their greed throughout the rest of their lives. But the cases are so few that even you don''t know much on the topic. In any case, with all the big guns surrounding me, I dare say that if I die early, it won''t be because of greed.


    Who knows, perhaps I will just get fed up of all the wretches and leap off the edge of a cliff." Kilian ended the exchange with a jest, and went back to the Hellforge.


    With three more weeks before the Sura Hunting Game, Kilian dared not waste any time. And while he reviewed the hendecagram ritual circle he''d prepared beforehand, Adam gathered the magi. Six hours later, he delivered the 100 High Emissaries. Bringing them into the Hellforge, Kilian settled them on the hendecagram, knocked them out, and in a pain-free process, extracted their souls.


    The creation of a Philosopher''s Stone followed five steps: Corruption, Dissolution, Merge, Condensation and Crystallization.


    However, with dark-gray or black souls, Dark Philosophers could skip the Corruption stage. Joining his hands in a prayer sign, Kilian bound his dra to the 100 hovering souls, and through his Lv. 4 Transmutation, started melting their individuality to accomplish the second stage: Dissolution.


    Across six hours of spiritual flaying, the souls lost their uniqueness and bond to their original selves¡ªlost their human shape¡ªand became floating masses of dark fog. Moving his hands in esoteric gestures, Kilian spent another five hours to force the dark fog into one single soul orb, and slam it into his hendecagram. Dark light surged from the circle''s center, filling the Hellforge with the eerie, nefarious energies its name deserved.


    For the first time since the ritual''s start, Kilian''s limbs trembled under the process'' strain, his eyes went bloodshot, and sweat poured from his forehead. This step, the Condensation, was the ritual''s most sensitive part. The united, depraved souls would clash with Kilian¡ªresist his control¡ªand attempt to force their way out of the Hellforge to seek a new future. Many Dark Philosophers failed at this step, and either perished from the backlash or ended up possessed by the amalgam of dark souls.


    From the moment Kilian destroyed their individuality, he no longer held any sway over those souls. But as his knees wavered under their resistance, he closed his eyes, sang the Gospel of Pandemonium, and shaped his dra into an invisible cage that forced the souls into submission.


    Without delay, Kilian slammed his hands on the ritual circle, transmuting the united souls into a blood-red liquid that twisted in the center as if animated by restless revenants.


    Now came the final part: Crystallization.


    At this stage, it was all about Dra Control. Freeing his mind of all unnecessary thoughts, Kilian levitated the liquid 15 centimeters off the ground, and slammed his hands together in a thunderous clap. The circle''s esoteric lines shone with blinding light¡ªthe stretching and twisting came to a halt¡ªand the blood-red substance morphed into a scarlet bead.


    Kilian beckoned, pulling the bead into his hand with a surge of telekinetic forces. It landed right within. His lips curled into a lopsided smile, but before he could relish in his creation, Kilian felt the world around him spin, his legs gave out, and he collapsed on the ground. Unbeknown to Kilian, a foreign force attempted to yank the scarlet bead out of his grasp. Still, his hand refused to let go¡ªkeeping it tightly clenched within. The move sealed his fate.


    Not many things went against the natural order. After all, man''s definition of "natural" didn''t equal nature''s. Yet, nature still agreed on one thing: no matter how long lived, all things should die.


    Therefore, immortal races or tools that led to immortality, all carried various curses.


    Fehls thrived on vice and waged an eternal war among themselves, thrones couldn''t find love in any form, suras were destined to weakness and abuse, chiropterans hungered across eons, and the undead decayed.


    As for Kilian, his mind drifted to a vast, dark-green world where hurricanes of gold coins, jewels, artifacts and all imaginable riches stretched far and wide. Amidst the whirlpool of wealth, a chalky-white serpent hovered, coiling on itself. Almost 100 meters tall, the serpent gripped Kilian''s attention, making him forget about the boundless wealth at arm''s reach.


    "A soul worth of 50,000, a Dra Reserve of 100,000. Bred in a flawless process, can be recharged or upgraded. Your Philosopher''s Stone has no flaws. But a flawless stone means potential immortality, and immortals must bear curses. You can either allow me to destroy the stone, or bear the Mark of Greed. Which one will it be?" The serpent asked as its slit, blood-red eyes locked on Kilian.


    While 99% of Philosopher''s Stones carried enough flaws that they escaped nature''s regulations¡ªthose that like Kilian''s reached perfection¡ªall had to cross this pass.


    "Another mark? At this point I might as well open a tattoo parlor," Kilian jested, but his words sparked nothing in the serpent who merely stared at him.


    "All right, although I know that across the ages some Dark Philosophers triggered the Mark of Greed, its abilities are not well documented. I need details. Can it help me on my quest or is it just a curse?"


    "That will depend on your choices and perception. The Eye of Fehl and Marks on your body grant you unique abilities, but also bring you closer to Fehl Ascension. For some, they are craved blessings, for others, revolting curses.


    Marks always carry boons and drawbacks. Perks aside, Ashera''s stimulates vices and lust, while Adramelech''s promotes wolfish cunning and ruthlessness. In your eyes, are those drawbacks?


    Some of your universe''s mightiest entities chose you for their plans and guaranteed you a radiant future in servitude. Even Klaus rarely did anything he didn''t think was in your best interest.


    In many onlookers'' eyes, you are blessed. But in yours, Klaus, Ashera, Adramelech, and even Fehl, all need a good swat. You want power to fulfill your dreams, power to break free of the fate woven by those existences.


    In that respect, you remind me of Arkhan. Born without free will, yet now stands at the pinnacle of the universe. And still¡ªhe yearns for more¡ªtrapped in the infinite cycle of his own greed. Perhaps you will follow in his tracks. After all, you two are closer than you know. But since his rise started here, I suppose you can say that for him, the Mark was a blessing." Here the serpent paused, recalling his meeting with the Hellforge''s creator before moving on.


    "Greed has driven humanity for tens of thousands of years. Control it and the world of men can''t resist you. Fail and like the rest, you will become its slave. The mark opens the two roads. Though, let me warn you, regardless of what you choose, you won''t remember my existence. Only Hierarchs or above can." Which meant that if the serpent destroyed the stone, Kilian would wake up thinking he''d failed the transmutation, start-over, and keep going until he created a flawed product, or gave up.


    For a moment, he closed his eyes, weighing the options before him with a serene look. When he opened them, hesitation didn''t ripple in his gaze.


    "Bring it on."


    The serpent spoke no further. A blinding flash of light surged from his gaze, and Kilian returned to the outside world. A tiny ouroboros sigil appeared on his neck. But unlike the one he hexed his early victims with, the serpent''s eyes glowed with a dark-green sheen: the Mark of Greed.


    And in an unexpected twist, the mark absorbed both Ashera''s and Adramelech''s Marks, integrating their powers while cutting the connection to the two.

 68 Grasp of Avarice

    "Damn it bitch, wake up!" A gruff voice thundered in Kilian''s ears, forcing his eyes open. But instead of the Hellforge''s platinum walls, Kilian awoke to his soul world where a fuming Urag lay. As chained as ever, the imp lord threw kicks at Kilian''s inert form, while wrestling with his bounds.


    "What''s wrong with you?" As if awakening from a long slumber, Kilian stood up and stretched his arms as far as he could.


    "What''s wrong with me? What''s wrong with you! You''ve been out for 22 hours! If you die I die, please don''t screw me over!" Urag threw his head back and sobbed like a child. Although he couldn''t see what happened in the outside world, changes in Kilian''s soul directly affected him.


    First, there was the meeting with Adramelech that scared him witless. Then, an inert Kilian appeared and shifting dark-green faces sprang left and right. Fortunately for him, Urag possessed extensive knowledge and could make a few guesses. The new mark on Kilian''s neck also helped clear all his doubts.


    "Humans just don''t know when to stop. You even dared create a Flawless Philosopher''s Stone? Good son, I love you!" Urag''s sobs turned into a burst of laughter, and if not for the chains trapping him, he would have given Kilian a warm hug¡ªor at least tried to. Arching one eyebrow, Kilian stepped toward Urag, "You okay?" he asked, and checked the imp''s temperature for good measure.


    Could a sane imp go from furious to delighted in such a short span of time?


    "Bah! Okay your ass! What is is your Transmutation Level?"


    "Fiveish." Having spent weeks tutoring Kilian, although they didn''t dwell on personal matters, Urag learned about his core abilities. With a Philosopher''s Stone to empower him, Kilian could increase his Transmutation skills by one level. At the same time, unlike the traditional von Skoll bloodline which was limited to nuclear reactions, Adramelech''s Arcane Bloodline enabled its owners to fully manipulate atoms.


    But while how far they could go also depended on their magical abilities and Dra Reserves, at Kilian''s level, he could use Atomkinesis to strengthen both his Fleshcrafting and Transmutation skills.


    Combining those two forces, even without Exarch-level Dra Control, Kilian could use Lv. 5 Fleshcrafting and Transmutation. A pity that the massive Dra Cost limited him.


    "Perfect! You can transmute my chains into dust and free me from this place. Her Dominion bound me to your soul world, which makes you the only one able to expel me without too much effort. As long as you combine my powers with your Philosopher''s Stone, it''s just a matter of time!


    Haha! In less than three days, Lord Urag will again walk the earth! Bitches and booze! Bitches and booze! B-" Urag''s chains weren''t absolute bounds. When Kilian''s soul weakened, so did the chains, giving the imp the opportunity to fight for control. At the same time, the two could coordinate to release Urag from his shackles.


    But as Urag imagined all the lads he''d cuck, "Wait wait wait. I have nothing to gain from this," Kilian cut him in his daydreaming.


    "What?" Startled, the imp lord blinked at Kilian, wondering if his pointy ears betrayed him.


    "Here''s the thing. You''ve been squatting in my soul for half a year, but since you taught me Eromancy, I can consider that we''re square. However, breaking your chains and helping you walk the earth gives me no benefit. Worse, I''ll have to work hard and waste precious time for your sake¡ªall so that you can spread the lust? Come on dude." Kilian shook his head. After waking up from his forced nap, he felt that he''d been living his life in vain, missing many opportunities to strike good bargains.


    No more.


    It was high time he milked the freeloaders and screwed the world of all its worth. And recalling the new mark inflated Kilian''s greed, Urag felt his dreams splashed by cold water.


    "Man, we''re almost family. You can''t do this to me!" The imp lord pleaded with doe eyes.


    "Actually, we really are family. But that''s beside the point. You don''t buy your dad a Porsche just because he asks. No, you first swindle a Bugatti out of him. That''s fair trade.


    Point is, I can help you, but you must first give me enough incentive," Kilian tapped Urag''s right cheek and said in such a straightforward tone that for a second, the imp lord wondered if he wasn''t being too stingy.


    "What do you want?" Eager to leave this unpredictable hellhole, Urag caved in. Satisfied, Kilian raised his right hand.


    "Grasp of Avarice." Green light surged from his palm, and calling upon the Mark of Greed, Kilian summoned a green sheet of paper and quill. A result of his new mark, Grasp of Avarice enabled Kilian to do two things: rob and bargain.


    With his bargaining skill, Kilian could write all kinds of contracts for his target to sign and make the content visible or invisible. Interestingly, he could never write fair contracts and was forced to make the scales heavily tip in his favor. And while he knew the contract would aim to screw him over, when Kilian finished writing it and showed the content, Urag still failed to restrain himself.


    "A fucking blank! Are you trying to screw me out of my underpants? Son of a bitch!"


    "Apparently, life is a choice. Either you sign and I help you leave your jail, or you don''t, and we play cards in my sleep for the rest of my existence. Your call," Kilian countered, unfazed by Urag''s outburst. And knowing that he now dealt with a deadly sin, Urag didn''t doubt Kilian would live up to his words.


    Downcast, the imp lord grabbed the quill and struggled with his chains to write the words that''d seal his fate. The quill and paper turned into light rays and vanished in Kilian''s forehead.


    "Wow, that feels good. Alright, I will get to work. Within three days, I''m busting you out," Stimulated by a surge of fehl high, Kilian chortled and turned heels.


    "Wait, at least tell me what I signed!" The panicky Urag said at Kilian''s back.


    "Oh, nothing special. You just sold your soul for freedom and also pledged that for every 3 dra you gained, I''d get 2." Struck hard by Kilian''s words, Urag staggered, warm tears filled his eyes, and he screamed at the purple sky, "Bastard! Bastard! You can''t make me your bitch! I didn''t sign up for this shit!"


    "Matter of fact, you did. Welcome aboard, sidekick," Kilian leisurely replied.


    "KIIILIAAAN!"

 69 Some Sheeps Eat Wolves

    In a faraway world filled with vervain''s scent, a sky-piercing sangria castle stood. In that castle''s most restricted room, two daemons sat on the opposite sides of a table. One, a striking giantess with dark-purple skin, amethyst eyes and long ink-like hair that draped over her massive breasts. The other, a mix between a wolf, a satyr, and a peacock¡ªAshera and Adramelech.


    Dressed in a black feathered gown, Ashera looked into her right palm and arched an eyebrow.


    "The Mark of Greed? Why?" Ashera wondered. The path Kilian set on was one of vindictiveness. Power was just a means to an end, so if he ever fulfilled the requirements for a sin, it should have been wrath. Why did he deviate to greed? Unless his heart no longer fixated on vengeance, even if he transmuted a Flawless Philosopher''s Stone, the mark wouldn''t take hold. Yet it did. And sensing the Sin Magic flowing in Kilian''s soul, Ashera frowned.


    By themselves, the Marks of Sin didn''t impact her plans. However, her contract with Kilian decreed that once he accomplished all he wished to in the Mortal Plane, she could claim his soul.


    Previously, Ashera believed that once Kilian avenged his beloved and destroyed his father¡ªthe ensuing void would end his quest¡ªmaking him ripe for the plucking. But now? He''d not only gone beyond the trappings of vengeance but obtained a sin that ensured he would never have enough. When then could she claim him?


    Worse, of all the marks in existence, the Mark of Greed was one of the two with the potential to nullify all contracts. It had to leave.


    "Something the matter?" Adramelech pulled Ashera out of her thoughts¡ªand as if reading through the Fehl Overlord''s mind¡ªhis lips curled into a wolfish grin. Though he too felt the loss of his mark and connection with Kilian¡ªunlike Ashera¡ªhe didn''t care much.


    "Nothing you should worry about," Ashera replied, and an amiable smile replaced her frown.


    "Adramelech, I like you. It''s refreshing that a little upstart can boast such ambition and actually live up to his goals. However, you''re testing my patience." Though the daemoness'' melodious voice kept its gentle tone, a silent pressure locked Adramelech from all sides.


    "I''m not sure I grasp Your Dominion''s meaning." Leaning back, Adramelech met Ashera''s mild yet tyrannical gaze. "For the past 3,000 years, I''ve always looked for talents among my descendants and granted rewards based on their aptitudes. The boy just so happens to be the most gifted of them all. Why take offense?"


    The words made perfect sense. Unfortunately, that alone couldn''t sway the Fehl Plane''s number one existence.


    "Is that so? So you''re not planning to test his mental aptitudes through your other descendants, and once certain of his skills, prepare his future ascension by your side?" Ashera rhetorically asked, but not giving Adramelech time to respond, she pursued, "Don''t worry, I understand. To rise above certain limits, your skills alone are not enough. You need to surround yourself with worthy talents. And nowadays, those are few.


    A pity that he''s off-limits. I can give you two roads. First, give up Achlys and join my banner. I guarantee that I can help you rise above Mazdan, and in due time, helping you claim an Overlord seat is not out of question.


    Second, keep misbehaving¡ªand when my little girl rises to Fehl Prince¡ªI will help her take your seat. Fair warning, she''s not far off." Throughout the Fehl Plane, if anyone could so candidly threaten Adramelech, that would be Ashera. After all, though he ranked eighth in the fehl hierarchy, before humanity was a thing, Ashera ranked first.


    And if not for the Fehl Plane needing six Overlords, with her strength, the others would have stopped breathing a long time ago. Even among the 66 Princes, many yearned for an opportunity to switch sides and pledge themselves to Ashera''s service.


    Adramelech had no such intent.


    "How about a third road? I gain nothing and lose nothing. Since the Eye is of such importance to Your Dominion, I won''t interfere. Do what you will. But if I may, let me give you two pieces of advice. First, some sheeps eat wolves. Second, spoiled children are hard to tame," Adramelech said, and with a demonic chortle, vanished in a twister of emerald flames.


    If the words had any effect on her, Ashera showed none¡ªand with a finger snap¡ªconjured a violet cloud in which Jezebel''s lounging figure appeared.


    "Enjoying your vacation?" Ashera''s voice boomed in Jezebel''s mind, forcing her out of her revery. Alarmed, she rose from her seat and shut her eyes close, "Mother?" she probed.


    "Jezebel, I knew you slothful but not negligent. How could you let him deviate from the proper path?" The words took Jezebel by surprise, her lips and eyelids twitched, and her eyes narrowed in confusion.


    "What? Do you think I sent you to him for fun and giggle? No, dearest, your job was to keep him on track. To fuel his rage, his vices, and make him sink in hatred. But you''ve not only failed to accomplish this, you''re even allowing him to slip out of our grasp.


    Use whatever method you want, but I give you three months to set Kilian back on the original course. Otherwise, I will do it myself," the Overlord commanded, and Jezebel didn''t doubt that should her mother take things into her hands, horrible results awaited.


    "Also, while I do not mind you having your fun, make no mistake. At the end of this game, Kilian belongs to me, and me only. So take what you can while you can, but don''t forget your place," as the words thundered in Jezebel''s mind, the mental connection ended, leaving her no room to argue.


    Alone, Jezebel felt the invisible hand of her sovereign mother clutch at her heart, and a wave of conflicting emotions flood her mind.


    Meanwhile, following his meeting with Urag, Kilian grafted the Philosopher''s Stone in his heart and fleshcrafted the 100 soulless society members into abominations similar to his previous boyars. With his current abilities, it took less than three hours.


    He then had the legions of society members contact close-kin and friends to drive the weak-willed aristocrats toward the Dark Eden with promises of power and pleasure.


    On the outside, to keep the imperial eyes on him while his agents worked in the shadows, Kilian organized lavish gatherings and threw extravagant parties to bond with the academy''s elites. In Orloth, Olaf was crowned Duke of Verden and shifted the capital to Ostria. The event filled the kingdom''s aristocracy with envy, and many praised Olaf''s foresight.


    In the Divine Glory''s headquarters, Grand Master Gerlach accepted Kilian''s betrothal proposal, causing more uproars in Arcadia''s nobility circles.


    The public''s eye lay on Kilian.


    The imperial loyalists'' attention darted between Kilian and the Dark Eden. And while many wondered why such a self-aggrandizing youth obtained destiny''s favor, in Ostria''s underground laboratories, legions of venandis and boyars rose, equipped with ever more terrific weaponry.


    And as Kilian''s Transmutation skills surged, his clones not only completed the Nebula Generator but hastened the creation of the Star Condenser. Yet, while everything seemed to be going smoothly, now and then, Kilian would feel as if a hand clutched his heart. Knowing that those sensations were not his, he locked them in a corner of his mind, awaiting the right moment to face what needed to be.

 70 Lord Urag is Back!

    "This is getting out of hand, and we must do something to suppress the situation," a white-gold student told eight of his peers who each sat around a rectangular table. One month. It''d been one month since Kilian the Unfortunate became Kilian von Skoll, with all the perks the name afforded.


    At first, considering the perceived weakness of the von Skoll, the descendants of those houses about to turn coat chose to first befriend him, then strike him down when he expected it the least. But never did they expect that Kilian would get so drunk on power so fast. Overnight, he became the academy''s number one celebrity, throwing such lavish parties that on the following mornings, dozens of classes were found empty of both students and professors.


    Worse, as if drawn by an irresistible magnet, ladies now flocked around him days and night, and rumors that the Chairs of Fire, Lightning and Wind, regularly visited his chambers for private lessons abounded. Many couldn''t understand why Kilian received such excessive treatments. Although the Imperial Academy was the von Skolls'' territory, even the Crown Prince didn''t act this extravagantly.


    But as if to further slap their faces, the elder council granted Kilian imperial prince status, forcing all but a few to bow in his presence. Unrestrained, he opened three gambling houses, driving hundreds of spendthrift students to a life of heavy gambling and ruin. On the scene, several lost more than half their net worth to Kilian''s gambling houses.


    A mess! The entire academy had turned into a royal mess! Meanwhile, the imperial forces struggled to restrain Rupert''s armies, with rumors that he''d soon reach the Imperial City spreading in the fence sitters'' circles.


    "This is a perfect example of how low the von Skolls have fallen. See how far they''re willing to go to cajole their new toy? I heard that the purple-gold robes were supposed to learn new Fourth Circle Spells to prepare for the hunt, but their instructor was too high from the previous night to teach them anything worthwhile."


    "This is not even the worst. The bastard started a new trend. Trying to curry his favor, hundreds of females and dozens of males are now wearing their hair in dreadlocks. We can''t even tell upstarts from nobles anymore!"


    "Right, I even caught my sister doing the same as she prepared for one of his parties! Damn it, she''s engaged!" If not for the academy being von Skoll territory, many of the wronged students would have taken arms against Kilian. Some desperados did try, never to be heard of again.


    "Trying to cause the man trouble in the academy doesn''t make any sense. Even without the professors'' backing, in one-third of the students'' eyes, he''s a myth, a god, their source of unending ecstasy. We must endure.


    The Sura Hunting Game starts in less than three days and will last 45 days. I know from trustworthy sources that the academy changed the organization, and plans to send all students, regardless of abilities. The professors are coming too. They will make an announcement in tomorrow''s gathering," said the group''s leader, and his peers'' eyes widened at the words.


    But while some plotted Kilian''s destruction, he stood in the academy''s most lavish party hall, looking down at hundreds of carousing students from his private floor.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my birthday celebration. Cheers," Kilian began. In his right hand, he held a lilac-colored glass of alcohol, while around his neck, a black snake coiled¡ªInyoka in his one-head form. Flanked by the six aistis, Kilian extended his glass at the students who all wore dreadlocks akin to his.


    In their hands, they held the same lilac liquor, and met Kilian''s toast with unrestrained hollers. Word was that whoever attended Kilian''s parties three times would turn into a rabid fan. The unique narcotics had a lot to do with it.


    "As you know, this is our last gathering before the Sura Hunting Game. So now more than ever, you must live up to the creed and¡­" Kilian''s voice trailed, and taking the hint, his followers finished the words, "Party till we drop!"


    Their screams shook the banquet hall, and satisfied, Kilian gave an approving nod. "Today''s challenge is simple. Whoever can down 13 zilac glasses before midnight can join me upstairs. You know the drill, don''t try cheating, I will know," Kilian declared, downed his glass, and turned heels.


    Zilac was a unique beverage concocted by Kilian in Ostria and served only to the Celestial Garden''s VIPs. On potency, it approached the fehl high, but beyond the intoxicating effect¡ªfor 48 hours¡ªit''d help magi increase their Dra Reserves at twice the pace.


    The effects stacked up to four times the Dra Gathering Speed for four days. But because of how addictive it was, Kilian rarely used it, and when he did, had an antidote ready. But while drinks, elixirs, and pills that enhanced Dra Gathering Speed were common in aristocratic circles. Products that also produced such a delightful experience didn''t circulate on the legal market. Yet, zilac was only one of the many exotic drugs available in Kilian''s parties.


    To foster trust and let his students drown in self-indulgence, Kilian provided antidotes to curb the side effects. Now, a cult of personality built around him.


    "Ha! The first time I saw you, I knew you''d become a fascist. You had all the traits. But now you''re not just a fascist, you''re greedy as hell too! Let me catch the gals!" Now in human form, Urag thrashed against invisible chains, flanked by Jezebel and Lena who sat in a private booth.


    A stocky dwarf with slick back, vintage-styled brown hair and a textbook dwarf beard¡ªwhen he first emerged from Kilian''s soul¡ªUrag never expected that his devil of a new boss would restrain his freedom and prevent him from spreading the lust! Trapped by Kilian''s autocratic regime, Urag sought Jezebel''s help, but so far, had no success.


    "Come on, did I not let you plow some noblewomen?"


    "Genderbent assassins!"


    "Okay, how about the time when we counterattacked the assassins'' leaders? Didn''t I let you take their girls?"


    "You creamed them from top, bottom, front and rear, and they refused to let me in!"


    "Wait, I gave you three goddesses to take care of you."


    "Fleshcrafted from corpses!"


    "Alright how about¡­"


    Every time Kilian mentioned an event, Urag countered with grief. Realizing that he really didn''t give his father-in-law much of a treat, Kilian cleared his throat.


    "Hum, hum. This is all for your own good. Until you learn to think without your dick, I can''t let you roam freely," Kilian reasoned, and unable to endure more abuse Urag spun toward Jezebel and sobbed at her feet.


    "Jez, how can you let him bully me like this? You must beat him for dad!" Urag pleaded, making the absent-minded Jezebel snap out of her torpor.


    "Mhm? Sorry dad we''re bonded, can''t help you," she directly replied, and fell back in her thoughts, leaving a downcast Urag to sigh in helplessness. When he first emerged from Kilian''s soul and realized that his daughter stood in his harem, Urag spoke such striking words that Kilian marked them on a stone tablet.


    "Ha! You think this can startle me? What a joke! Daughters are meant to be banged! If it''s not you it''s someone else, so go and stuff that coochie! Ladies and gentle cucks, Lord Urag is back!"

 71 Deadlock

    Three hours of carousing passed before midnight''s gong rang in the banquet hall. But while most enjoyed the revelry, two remained aloof: the absentminded Jezebel and Kilian whose eyes lingered on hers.


    From the moment Kilian returned with the Mark of Greed, Jezebel fell into a half-trance. Most of the time¡ªshe''d stand idle at a window¡ªeyes glazed for no reason. Even Urag''s appearance didn''t rekindle the light in her eyes for more than an hour. And though he could infer that her behavior was linked to Ashera''s will, Kilian couldn''t guess the details.


    In silence, Jezebel stood up and left the party. Simultaneously, three students completed Kilian''s challenge and rushed toward the second floor.


    "Take my place for a bit," Kilian ordered Urag, and went after Jezebel. In the corridor leading to the dormitory, Kilian caught up to Jezebel¡ªand as if sensing him¡ªshe stopped. For an instant, the two stood there, with Kilian facing Jezebel''s back.


    "I didn''t think you were the type to run after the girl," she jested without turning to face him.


    "I didn''t think you were the type to let trouble wear you down," he countered.


    "Now that depends on the type of trouble. Trouble is good when it plagues others. Only bitches want it in their lives. I''m typically too lazy to let it reach me¡ªbut unfortunately¡ªit found its way in." Spinning 180, Jezebel met Kilian''s gaze with her amethyst hues.


    "You''re the trouble. I received a new assignment from mother dearest, an ultimatum to set you straight¡ªin a nutshell. Apparently, the Mark of Greed bothers her a lot. I am not familiar with its abilities, but if she cares that much, it can''t just be because of your new course. Otherwise, she wouldn''t be in such a hurry. My guess is that at a high-enough level, the Mark can annul your contract," Jezebel hypothesized.


    "You''re correct. As my greed grows, the Mark will give me the ability to annul all contracts that aren''t favorable to me."


    "Which is why you opened those three gambling houses and force the indebted students¡ªheirs of great houses¡ªto sell their present and future assets in binding contracts?"


    "Indeed." Kilian didn''t deny it. Through the gambling houses, he''d conned many of the aristocrats into giving up present and future assets. When they inherited their house''s lands and titles, the contract would kick in, forcing them to offer it all to Kilian. And with the ongoing civil war, many would soon inherit their elders'' assets.


    Of course, as they signed the ridiculous contract, those heirs never considered upholding the future agreement. Many planned to murder Kilian during the Sura Hunting Game, while others counted on their houses'' power and the country''s instability to weasel their way out of it. What a pity that the choice wasn''t theirs to make.


    However, Kilian''s confirmation brought Jezebel no comfort. "And here lies the problem. Although she can''t dive into the Mortal Plane, as the Fehl Plane''s number one, my mother possesses a near-infinite reach. Throughout this world''s hidden cabals of fehl worshipers, how many does she secretly control? Even I don''t know. But before you can screw her over, she will make her move. How do you handle that?"


    A fair question. As the Fehl Plane''s highest ruler, in most informed magi''s eyes, Ashera was the multiverse''s strongest. In fact, those with the power to defeat her didn''t exist in the proper sense. Worse, she excelled at corruption. Across the multitude of mortal worlds, how many hidden worshippers did she possess? Kilian wouldn''t be surprised if the daemoness could summon hordes of zealots from various worlds to hunt him down.


    "In the average magus'' eyes, Astral Masters are gods, and Hierarchs high gods. Hierarchs stand at the summit of our multiverse, and no one knows if something lies above them. But I''ve heard stories of Hierarchs mysteriously vanishing, and considering my mother''s obsession with the Eye, I''d say there is another altitude.


    If the Eye is her key to reach it, she''ll never give up. If push comes to shove, she''ll rather harm your soul than let the Eye slip out of her grasp. For three weeks I racked my brain to find a way that doesn''t end with you as my chained stepfather, and frankly, I don''t see any."


    Just like high-ranking fehls, Astral Masters or above couldn''t freely walk the Mortal Plane. In the Mortal Plane, those godlike entities'' outrageous Dra Reserves triggered a phenomenon known as Dra Imbalance, leading to Dra Storms and Elemental Typhoons. To avoid getting obliterated by the behemoths'' Dra Reserves, the Mortal Plane shackled them. So even if Ashera dispatched worshipers, they wouldn''t exceed Exarch-level.


    However, this wasn''t just a matter of strength. Jezebel knew that for her mother, force was the last recourse. Ashera delighted in seamlessly toying with her targets'' lives. By the time they realized her influence, their hearts already belonged to her.


    From non-magi to Astral Masters, too many fell to her plays. Even some Hierarchs couldn''t escape. Kilian may be an expert in Machiavellian maneuvers, but could he outfox the Overlord of Overlords?


    But as Jezebel''s mind swirled in thoughts, Kilian smirked, and vanished to reappear at her back. Her eyes widened in disbelief.


    "Odd isn''t it? You have already fully recovered, yet I can still sneak up on you. Why? Because your mind is unsteady and asking all the wrong questions. Do I have a plan? Can I outfox Ashera? None of that matters if you don''t even know where you stand," Kilian whispered in Jezebel''s ear.


    "A part of you wants to stand by me, to cling on what we have and build eternal memories. But another part reminds you that Ashera is your mother, the one to whom you owe everything. Torn between emotions and reason, you don''t know what to do. That is your problem," Leaning over Jezebel''s shoulder, Kilian paused, letting his words sink in her mind before carrying on.


    "I can''t blame you. Though you don''t see eye to eye on many things, she''s been your mother for 200 years and has never mistreated you. On the contrary, if you could turn your back on her without a second thought, I''d become wary of you.


    But while we''ve reached a crossroad, I will not make you choose. Do whatever you wish to, how you wish to. Your life is yours, and as long as I have a say, you are free." Leaving those words behind, Kilian turned heels, and returned to the party.


    Alone, Jezebel closed her eyes. When Ashera first said the words "Kilian belongs to me, and me only," for a second, her heart teemed with rage. Why did Kilian have to "belong" to anyone?


    And even if he had to, by right, should he not be hers? What gave her mother the right to claim him for herself? But then, Jezebel realized she was the delusional one. From the get go, her job was to act as a stand-in and guard Ashera''s interests. She''d been hiding from the truth to enjoy those delightful days.


    But now the truth bit hard, and for the first time in centuries, Jezebel faced a choice she didn''t know how to handle. To rebel and become an ungrateful wretch, or quietly go away? As for turning on Kilian, the thought never crossed her mind.


    But then Kilian''s last words resounded in her mind, and though she didn''t know it yet, she made her choice.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, within Kars'' ducal palace, Klaus''s body lay in an amethyst crystal, hovering in an otherwise empty room. But for the first time in months, his lips twitched. Golden light surged from his chest¡ªthe sword keeping him sealed burst into smithereens¡ªand his eyes opened wide.


    At the same time, in a secret chamber of the imperial palace, four von Skoll elders worked on pulling Niklas out of his coma. They needn''t wait longer.


    To the elders'' awe¡ªKlaus appeared right in the room and aimed one finger at Niklas¡ªfiring a thin beam of golden light that nailed his forehead.


    "Come, father, it''s time to clean the state."

 72 Rise and Shine

    As they belonged to the small circle aware of Klaus'' true identity, the four elders didn''t find his words surprising. Even the facts that he awoke before Niklas and could bypass the wards they''d set up, didn''t grab their attention. What truly startled them was that Klaus¡­didn''t have an aura.


    "In complete harmony with nature. Exarch-level Dra Control," one elder remarked. When human magi reached Exarch-level Dra Control, their aura merged with the world''s, making their presence nigh-impossible to detect unless they wished to show off. But as they stared at Klaus'' golden beam, the elders realized their oversight.


    "No, not just Dra Control. He is a true Exarch. How can an incomplete soul grow so fast?" They asked one another, baffled by Klaus'' growth speed. Desperate to save him from an eternal loop of pain, Niklas split Klaus'' soul into four parts, a main part with one-third the original soul, and three lesser parts that made up the rest.


    Klaus'' current soul only contained the main, meaning that¡ªat best¡ªhe could unlock 16 Dra Roots. And although that number sufficed to reach Arcadia''s summit, it couldn''t explain the cursed prince''s progression speed.


    A High Emissary at 14, an Archon at 20, and an Exarch at 42. In Arcadia''s history, few could compare. And remembering that this was merely the result of one-third of Klaus''s true potential, those elders couldn''t restrain their sighs. If not for the eldars'' Karmic Hex, wouldn''t he now stand at the pinnacle of the arcane world¡ªdestined to surpass even Adramelech?


    But as the elders lamented the fallen crown prince''s fate, Niklas'' eyelids trembled. The scene of his utter defeat at Jezebel''s hands replayed in his mind, and his eyes opened wide¡ªbloodshot from his seething rage. But in that instant, Klaus leaned over, greeting Niklas with a lopsided grin.


    "Old man, rise and shine," Klaus declared with grand theatrical gestures he''d only show before Niklas.


    "When will you give up this habit of spouting rubbish?" Once Klaus'' face appeared in Niklas'' eyes, his rage vanished, and though he rebuked Klaus in words, the gentle tone betrayed him.


    "Old habits die hard. Enjoyed your rest?"


    "What rest? Marcel activated Number One to let me keep an eye on the situation. How about you?"


    "Wilfried regularly fed critical intel to my brain. I just processed it all. By the way, if you keep calling grandfather by his name, I might start calling you Niklas."


    "Dare, and I''ll smack you back into your coma," the father and son pair dove into a rapid exchange. As for the Number One in Niklas'' words, he was none other than the eldest prince. The three imperial princes, Ayden and his two elder brothers¡ªwere nothing but Niklas'' clones¡ªcreated to store Klaus'' soul parts.


    Niklas only had one child: Klaus. The eldars'' Karmic Hex guaranteed that in each generation, Niklas'' line could only produce one offspring. Back then, the reckless use of Soul Division, a taxing branch of Dark Magic, weakened Niklas to near-death. But believing that leaving the three clones wholly independent would create trouble, he swallowed his pride, and had Marcel bind them to his soul.


    Whenever Niklas'' true body suffered mishaps, Marcel could swap his soul to one of the three princes. He could also turn them into puppets bound to Niklas'' will. And while having to rely on Marcel for such a vital task brought the emperor no end of grief, he had no other choice. The Arcadian Empire didn''t have a better Soul Puppeteer than Marcel. Niklas might not fear him in pure strength, but even he could only bow before Marcel''s mastery of souls.


    "Hum, hum. Your Majesty, please forgive our interruption, but as we speak, the rebels split their forces into three. The main force, an army of two million backed by 3,623 fighters all equipped with plasma weapons, garrisoned in Koln, and prepares an attack on Tenburen before advancing on the Imperial City. Rupert and Erland lead them.


    The second numbers 1.2 million, backed by 2,341 fighters, and aims for Erlom. Three Grand Dukes lead them. The last totals 800,000, and targets Orloth. The former Grand Master of the Blood Rose commands that batch." The most senior of the elders broke the pair''s exchange.


    Only now did Niklas pay the four attention. As members of the elder council, all four were Exarchs and pillars of the house. In any other circumstance, Niklas would have given them his full attention. But in this one, their sight annoyed him.


    "Bitches that don''t know when to shut it," Niklas wanted to say but restrained himself.


    "Any nuclear weapon?" Klaus asked.


    "The armies on imperial territory aren''t using any. But the forces heading toward Orloth are packing many."


    "At least they haven''t lost that bit of common sense," Klaus noted. Using nuclear weapons against the von Skolls was no different from asking for a beating. Although Rupert had clearly lost his mind, those backing him hadn''t.


    "I told you that you should have killed him. Now you must slaughter 800,000." Niklas shook his head. After Klaus crushed the former Grand Master of the Blood Rose before the eyes of Arcadia''s elite, the man sank into a concerning mixture of depression and hatred. Niklas initially planned to have him murdered, but Klaus'' will stopped him.


    Faced with his father''s reproach, the duke closed his eyes and arched his head back.


    "Slaughter and mercy both have their use. Not being able to balance them has always been your flaw," he replied, and teleported himself back to Kars. Without Klaus'' presence, Niklas'' eyes lost all gentleness, regaining their usual domineering look.


    "Coordinate with Hanns to transport a division of the Golden Army to the Imperial Academy. The Technocracy''s moves are questionable. They can''t aim for the Imperial City with such riffraff. I wouldn''t be surprised if a secret detachment was on its way to the island."


    "The retired emperor also thinks so, but fears that transporting troops will al-" an elder countered, but before he could finish his words, Niklas nailed him with a glower that sapped all strength from his limbs.


    "As you command, Your Majesty! Should we also dispatch troops against the incoming forces?" The elder quickly changed his tone and lowered his head further to not offend his emperor.


    Crossing his arms behind his back, Niklas walked past the four elders and projected his gaze beyond the Imperial City.


    "No need. I will handle them."


    ¡­


    In Ravaria, the capital of Orloth¡ªKing Erik quivered on his throne¡ªscared witless by the news before his eyes. Officials lined up in the court hall, trembling like their monarch as the messenger''s words still rang in their ears.


    "My lord, the former Grand Master of the Blood Rose, is leading an 800,000 man-strong elite army to reclaim his rightful seat! He asks Your Majesty to surrender Orloth to Grand Duke Rupert''s coalition and assist in the overthrow of von Karsten''s men!"


    A call to rebellion. Although the empire seemed to stand on its last leg, 3,000 years of complete domination prevented the tributary kings from fostering rebellious thoughts. Said bluntly, they couldn''t afford it.


    Before Klaus, Orloth didn''t have a single Archon. This meant that with its military level, the kingdom couldn''t resist one Archon''s all-out assault. With such strength, even if the imperial dukes dared rebels, the tributary kings wouldn''t dare.


    But now¡ªan ultimatum stood before King Erik¡ªand as he often did these days, he broke into cold sweat. Emboldened by Erik''s weakness, the messenger pursued:


    "Have no fear, we already won. As we speak, the Grand Duke''s main forces prepare to storm the Imperial City. Arcadia is ours. It''s not a choice of whom to back, but your last chance for survival."


    The words forced Erik against a wall. But as he prepared to give his consent, a handsome man walked into the court meeting, and immediately snatched all eyes.


    "T-the Duke of Kars?" When those words reached his ears, the messenger spun and was alarmed to see Klaus standing¡ªvery much awake.


    "V-von Karsten? Aren''t you comat-" before the messenger could finish, Klaus rammed his fist down the man''s throat, and tore off his tongue.


    Blood gushed forth. The messenger collapsed on the ground¡ªclutching at his neck¡ªand lips while squirming in silent agony. Tossing the tongue aside, Klaus aimed one finger at the man''s face, searing his forehead with one burning message.


    "Your tongue disrespected my country, so I pulled it out. But since you now can''t deliver my message, I engraved it on your forehead. You shall tell your lord that if he commits suicide within the hour, I pledge to spare his house.


    But should he refuse to abide, the whole lot can join the pile of skulls that decorate Kars'' walls."


    Klaus declared and snapped his fingers. Purple light wrapped the messenger, turning him into an amethyst statue that rose into the air, breaking through the ceiling to shoot toward the invading forces'' camp.

 73 The World of Klaus

    By the time the officials and king snapped out of their stupor, the messenger was long gone. Ignoring the sycophants, Klaus'' cold-blue eyes locked on Erik, and while the duke stood several meters away from him, the king still quivered to no end.


    "Y-you''re back? M-my good nephew, g-good to see, g-good t-to s-" Erik stuttered, but as his broken words struggled to leave his lips, Klaus raised one hand, and the king dared not speak further.


    "Enough. Uncle, I''ve already told you that I don''t want your throne. But as a monarch, even a tributary ruler, how can you so easily forget your dignity? You''re not just one man, your face represents our state. If you can''t even keep your back straight in your palace, perhaps we do need another ruler," Klaus half-joked. As the "son" of Otto von Karsten¡ªthe king''s cousin and former Duke of Kars¡ªKlaus was Erik''s maternal nephew.


    In his early years, Erik treated him with a gentle elder''s care. He was the type of man everyone wanted as a relative, but none would ever entrust important duties to. A fatuous, self-indulgent king, the 63-year-old monarch had yet to realize that his "beloved wife" was the reason why he''d have to pass down his throne to his daughter. Men like Erik convinced Klaus that hereditary and absolute power could not build healthy states. The Arcadian Empire could afford it because of the von Skolls'' might, but was it healthy? Of course not.


    Shaken by Klaus'' joke, Erik clenched his throne''s arms as tight as he could, mustering his full strength to not collapse on the ground. "I...can abdicate, if you want. Our f-families intermarried for generations. I''m sure we can fabricate a claim to let you inherit. J-just say the words," Erik offered. As a High Emissary, he shouldn''t have looked older than 40. Alas, the weight of a crown he could no longer endure wrinkled his face.


    In less than ten years, he buried his five sons, some of whom he was forced to execute by circumstances he couldn''t control. His queen spent the majority of her time in the distant academy, not even bothering sending him words or answering his messages.


    As a king, Erik had many faults, but as a father and husband, he tried his best. On the day he wedded Esther, he gave up his official mistresses. Although he kept their status in name to avoid shaming them or his sons, he never touched them again. For Esther, he ignored state matters, did all he could to make her smile, but only received the same apathetic gaze.


    To obtain her hand, he exhausted one-tenth of the state''s treasury. For her love, he gave up the rest. Though he knew her heart lay with another man, he restrained his fears. Rupert killed the man to avoid scandals, but claimed it was for Erik''s sake. Knowing he shared the blame, Erik didn''t dispute.


    Now he sat on an empty treasury, with one child left out of six, and fear ruling his life. What use did the crown have for him? And why would he let it fall on his only daughter''s head? To have her live the rest of her life as Klaus'' puppet? No, the blood of those 8,000 northern tribesmen, of Otto and the other von Karsten heirs, proved one thing: Klaus¡­was too ruthless.


    They might as well abdicate.


    But as if reading through Erik''s thoughts, the duke stepped forward, and faster than the king''s eyes could follow, crossed the hall to land before him.


    "Fine. Then today, let''s make history. As I leave to handle the invaders, you will promulgate a royal decree that creates me Grand Chancellor and officially surrenders the crown''s authority to me. I will draft a new bill of rights, suppress the aristocracy, reform the government, and build a state run by competence instead of bloodline. The state will in turn allow you¡ªand all succeeding monarchs¡ªto live your lives in prestige and luxury¡ªgranted you don''t intervene in its matters." While Klaus didn''t believe in absolute monarchy, a democratic republic or meritocracy didn''t hold that much appeal to him either.


    In his eyes, all three were defective. At their worst, absolute monarchies fostered generations of abuse and incompetence, democratic republics led to constant squabble among conflicting political parties, and meritocracies bred elitism.


    But for his vision of the revolutionary state, Klaus aimed to incorporate elements of the three, and with what little time he had left, make Orloth his testing ground. In success, Arcadia would have a new option. In failure, his successors would learn from his mistakes and build something stronger.


    Unable to challenge Klaus'' words, Erik bowed in submission. Satisfied, the Duke of Kars spun and vanished from the court hall, leaving behind dozens of restless officials and their king-in-name.


    ¡­


    At the border between Orloth and the Arcadian Empire, a 60 meters long, dark-blue aircraft hovered overhead amidst 720 fighters. The average man could never expect that an aircraft of that size hid an army of over 800,000 men, ready to pillage its way through Orloth''s 160 million lives.


    Dark-blue mist swirled around the aircraft, projecting the invaders'' daunting presence to the border tribes and beyond. From the cold north to the capital, all could see that nightmarish image that presaged nothing but slaughter. In a flash, chaos filled Orloth.


    In the aircraft''s cockpit, a middle-aged man dressed in a black military uniform stood with his arms folded, and his severe eyes peering into the distance.


    "Von Karsten, you robbed me of my title, shamed me before my house and the continent''s elite, but in less than a week, went into a coma? What did I suffer this humiliation for? If I don''t wash this shame in Kars'' blood, how can I face my ancestors?" The former Grand Master of the Blood Rose grumbled. At first, when Klaus crushed him before the world, he had no complaints. The gap between them spoke for itself.


    But soon, all the respect he used to command from his peers and relatives alike crumbled. For some it was contempt, for others merely pity, but be it friends, wife or children, without the Grand Master title, none looked at him the same. It didn''t take long for indignation to fill his heart. Klaus'' following mishap became the icing on the cake, making him choose rebellion at the first opportunity.


    But as the rebel leader pictured a burning Kars, an amethyst projectile raced across the sky, aiming at his aircraft. The machine''s defense system activated, casting an energy shield that stopped the projectile in a deafening bang.


    But as the light dispersed, the confusing sight of an unharmed amethyst statue awaited. Recognizing his messenger, the rebel leader frowned. And before he could attribute the deed to Klaus, a purple ray surged from the statue''s forehead, displaying the duke''s message for all to see.


    "Commit suicide within the hour, and I pledge to spare your house. Refuse to abide, and all can join the pile of skulls that adorn Kars'' walls."


    The arrogance, as the words flashed before him, the rebel leader could picture Klaus'' leisurely smile and absolute confidence. It made his stomach turn, and with a finger snap, he blew the statue up.


    "You''re back? All the better. I wouldn''t be satisfied if I didn''t crush you in battle! Men, to arms!" The rebel leader snarled, and instantly, dark-blue energies surged from the aircraft''s core, casting a column of light toward the ground.


    The light column vanished, leaving behind a dreadful army of 800,000 clad in zuri power armors. Already in a battle formation, the army crossed the border, and alongside the hundreds of aircraft, invaded Orloth!


    But as soon as they took the first step in, from foot soldiers to aircraft, all clashed with an invisible wall that prevented their advance.


    "What the¡­" the bewildered leader stammered, but the words had barely left his lips that the most magnificent scene he would ever witness occurred. Golden light filled the sky, covering the entirety of Olroth''s heavens. And like an emissary of the divine, a kaleidoscopic crystal phoenix descended, suppressing the massive army with its mystical presence.


    Awed, the legions stared dumbstruck, unable to react. And as they succumbed to its majesty, the phoenix spread its wings.


    "Fifth Circle Spell: World of Crystals." A rainbow-colored flash of light blinded all invaders, becoming the last thing they''d see. From men to aircraft, all turned into crystal statues. Amethyst, carnelian, labradorite and so many other varieties spread across the border. The hundreds of aircraft tumbled, crushing a substantial chunk of the sculptures as they cratered. Their fall ended the invasion.


    "Saving 160 million by slaying 800,000. Does this count as a good deed?" Klaus asked himself, returned to his original form, and teleported back to Kars. Named the Garden of Crystals, for years to come, this magnificent display would remain Arcadia''s first wonder.


    ¡­


    But as Klaus obliterated Orloth''s threat, reclining in a flying throne¡ªNiklas appeared before the main rebel forces¡ªand fired a Thermonuclear Blast at them all. At first, the rebel leaders believed their defenses enough to shoulder an Exarch''s strike. But when the red blast neared, they realized their mistake.


    One spell, one crater, no survivor. Rupert and the Prince of Koln didn''t escape. Without delay, Niklas moved onto the last army, and again ended them with one spell. Thus, in less than one minute, from the rebel army''s initial four million troops, not one man remained.


    Or well, almost. For as the news of Klaus and Niklas'' contrasting feats spread, a living Rupert led a detachment of 3,000 cloaked aircraft¡ªhis true ace¡ªand surrounded the Imperial Academy.

 74 Arcadias Wealthiest Man

    Sitting in the Hellforge, Kilian browsed the pages of a large, ominous grimoire while the docile Inyoka looked over his shoulder. Contrary to his usual looks, Kilian now wore a pair of rectangular eyeglasses, and while he seemed calm, veins occasionally bulged on his forehead.


    An ancient relic crafted following Adramelech''s ascension as Fehl Prince and enhanced across his life, the Grimoire of Adramelech contained all spells and Arcana known to its fehl creator. Whenever he learned something new, the grimoire automatically recorded it. However, without Adramelech''s blessing, most couldn''t endure the content.


    Even for Kilian, the Grimoire''s spells, hexes, rituals and incantations put his mind to a severe stress. So much in fact that he had to craft unique glasses to shield his eyes and mind from the Grimoire''s side effects. And while Kilian couldn''t put most things above Archon rank to use, he still learned plenty.


    But as Kilian digested fehl knowledge, an alarm rang from his watch. Closing his book, Kilian turned the alarm off and left the Hellforge. That he could use his outside items in the Hellforge always intrigued him. After all, unlike those he brought in, Kilian''s body remained outside, with his clothes and items intact. But considering the level of technology the forge controlled, it wasn''t that surprising.


    Back in the physical world, Kilian''s eyes opened. But while Lena and the aistis remained close by, Jezebel was gone. Gone, yes. Far enough that even with the Fehl Bond, Kilian couldn''t sense her presence. She only left three words behind: "I will return."


    When the words first echoed in her mind, and they realized Jezebel''s departure, Lena felt a conflicting mix of joy and loss. Joy because without Jezebel, she became the second-in-command¡ªthe closest to her beloved master¡ªand loss because without Jezebel, she lost her partner.


    And though it''d only been five hours, Lena couldn''t help but worry.


    Meanwhile, the party still raged with Urag enjoying the company of two lovely students.


    "You know, not to brag but I''m super close to the boss. Stick with me and who knows where you''ll end up¡ªif you catch my drift," Urag chortled as the girls poured him glasses of zilac. The party still raged and unlike Lena, Urag had no fear regarding Jezebel''s current or future situation.


    In the Mortal Plane, no one could harm her. In the Fehl Plane, no one dared. As for other places, unless she personally sought trouble, most entities of that level didn''t have time to harm for naught.


    But as music and booze flowed alongside wild dances, an alarm akin to Kilian''s resounded in every corner of the academy, seizing the attention of its 3,000 students.


    "From brown to purple-gold, from servants to students, all are summoned to the Grand Arena," Hanns'' low-pitched voice boomed alongside the alarm, and without delay, hordes of students left their room to rush toward the Grand Arena.


    The battleground used to assess students'' fighting abilities and select the purple-gold, the Grand Arena also hid the gate toward the Sura Plane. Dawn had barely reared its head; for Hanns to summon all students on such short notice presaged nothing but disasters.


    Even the students slouching at Kilian''s party forcefully rose to their feet and crammed the doors as they raced toward the arena. "Let''s go," Kilian ordered, and in tandem, the three left their seats to head toward the gathering place. Shaped like a massive roman coliseum, the arena could accommodate 83,000 people. Even at an average of six servants per student, it didn''t lack space.


    Hanns stood in the middle of the arena, flanked by Adam, the Chair of Light, and another high-ranking chair. Several professors surrounded them.


    "Where is Esther?" Hanns asked Adam and the surrounding professors. They either shrugged or remained immobile.


    ¡­


    At that time, Esther stood in her study, facing two von Skoll youths who, despite the commotion, remained stoic.


    "Alan and Irma, was it? How may I help you?" Esther cooly asked. Her words creased the pair''s brows. And as if reading through their doubts, she pursued, "Was it about your Technomancy grades?"


    Taking the hint, the two bowed in greetings and presented two gift boxes to Esther. "Our father heard that your daughter''s future coronation still faces many obstacles and has us send you these tokens of his appreciation. Please accept them," Alan explained.


    "I don''t remember being that close to your father, but never mind, better have one more friend than foe," Esther replied as if caving in to the von Skoll name and received the two''s gifts. Their task complete, Alan and Irma left Esther''s study. But before she followed them, her eyes brushed past an invisible nano-spying-machine hidden in her chair.


    ¡­


    It didn''t take long for Alan, Irma and Esther to join the coliseum''s bluster. The two von Skolls picked two casual seats, while Esther joined her peers.


    "What took you so long?" Hanns barked as Esther settled behind him.


    "I had to receive bribes from two of your house''s youths," Esther countered in a remarkably detached tone, and with no time to argue, Hanns shifted his attention back on the students.


    "Thank you all for answering my summon on such short notice. As you know, due to safety concerns, the academy canceled the usual Sura Hunting Selection and planned to send you all to the Sura Plane in the upcoming days. However, the situation has changed, and we must leave now."


    *BANG*


    Hanns had barely finished his words that the buzzing blast of plasma salvos hammered the ears of all on the scene. At the academy''s door, Rupert''s 3,000 fighters emerged from their cloaking and fired thousands of plasma beams at the island. The academy''s energy shield kicked into gear, withstanding the beams'' assault.


    Instantly, panic filled the scene. But as the students readied to lose their shit, Hanns raised his hand, and all the dra across several kilometers became his to control. Even the 3,000 students'' dra no longer obeyed them, forcing them all to sit without disturbance.


    "The Dra Shackle," Kilian noted. The first of the Three Shackles, the Dra Shackle enabled Archons or above to turn all dra across kilometers against non-Archons. The ability ensured that before breaking their First Shackle, non-Archons couldn''t defeat Archons. However, for bottom-tier Archons, it was more taxing than beneficial. Unless faced with no other choice, they wouldn''t use it.


    "Several hours ago, His Majesty and the Grand Master of the Blood Rose awoke from their comas and exterminated the rebel forces. 800,000 rebels perished at Orloth''s borders, 1.2 million at Erlom, and 2 million at Koln. The treasonous Prince of Koln was executed alongside all members of his branch house, and all rebel nobles now face house extermination. Hundreds of aristocrats suspected of collusion with the rebels have already committed suicide.


    Yes, a good chunk of you no longer have parents.


    Yes, you might not have a tomorrow either. Some are doomed, but for others, it will depend on how the elder council chooses to investigate this case," Hanns broke the news, and instantly, silence fell.


    Three-thousand students'' eyes widened in disbelief, the worst soiled their pants, while the best''s faces twisted in horrible grimaces. Only a tiny portion maintained their cool, and as she sought her master''s reaction, Lena was startled to see Kilian biting his lower lip to restrain a burst of laughter.


    "Adam, pass my verbal decree and have the elder council exonerate all nobles that owe me money. I will give you a list. Also, I want the Imperial City to throw three days of celebration because damn it all, I am rich. So rich that I can buy the state!"

 75 Departure

    Unlike what some might expect, Kilian didn''t care much for Klaus and Niklas'' return. More accurately, he already knew when they''d awake. Due to his Six-Wheels Throne Heart, Jezebel knew that her seal couldn''t restrain Klaus for over two months. As for Niklas, though he should have remained asleep much longer, the Throne Heart enabled Klaus to heal him too. And with the two''s return, the chapter of imperial strife neared its end.


    At the Sura Hunting Game, Kilian would deal with the juniors. Afterward, the seniors would follow. Since the inevitable clash approached with great strides, what need was there for wild emotions? In Orloth''s undergrounds, the venandis and boyars number rose daily. The venandis now numbered 30,000 and could rival low-level High Emissaries while the boyars'' count rose to 270, all at low-level Archon tier.


    The Philosopher''s Stone didn''t just boost Kilian''s strength but also increased his clones'' productivity by a large margin. Still, despite his successes, Kilian didn''t forget that the von Skolls were only a fraction of the enemies he had to crush to establish his state.


    *BANG*


    But as thousands floundered, the rumbling sounds of the plasma beams colliding with the academy''s energy shield reminded all that death stood at arm''s reach.


    "As you can see, the 4 million man-strong army was just a diversion. The rebels'' true target has always been the Imperial Academy. Fortunately, His Majesty foresaw their aim and sent a division of 15,000 Golden Guards to protect us. They will not last one hour," there was a uniqueness in how Hanns broke the news that left even the professors appalled. Blunt and tactless, most would forget that he held the title of elder prince.


    "The enemy came prepared. Anti-energy shields, anti-teleportation and communication fields, black hole generators, heaps of nanomachines, and bewildering mobility; anyone of those 3,000 fighters can handle 500 Golden Guards. Together, they can threaten the whole army. In today''s Arcadia, only top Exarchs can handle such a threat, and since you''re still our students, protecting you behooves us. We must leave at once."


    The gravity of Hanns'' words left none unfazed, with some von Skol scions now realizing why the emperor couldn''t just rescue them. With communication and teleportation shut down, by the time the Imperial City realized the threat, the academy would have fallen to the invaders. Little did they know that the entire situation was a setup concocted by Ayden and Marcel to force Kilian into the Sura Plane.


    Just like Kilian, the two foresaw the Technocracy''s true aim and believed that once they made their move, their striking force would make Exarchs shiver. Thus, to prepare for the unknown¡ªAyden advocated to use the academy as a Trojan horse¡ªput on a false struggle, then send the students and all valuables away.


    As soon as Hanns led the students into the Sura Plane, the imperial family''s NK-97, the most dreadful neutron lasers in history¡ªwould fire at and wipe out the island¡ªalongside all its threats. Across three million square kilometers, nothing would remain. Marcel approved the plan, and alongside Hanns, started the preparations. Those three aside, only Niklas knew of the details. And to prevent potential spies from leaking the news, they even kept the elder council in the dark.


    In the imperial leaders'' eyes, Kilian and the Technocracy were the only internal threats to their sovereignty. If sacrificing the academy enabled them to break the two, why not? Of course, giving up 15,000 Golden Guards was not part of the initial plan. But since Niklas commanded it, Hanns could only obey¡ªnot like it didn''t make the scheme more convincing.


    "I suppose I don''t have to explain this time''s Sura Hunting Game''s importance to you. The more suras you capture, the more Imperial Grace you can get. For those of you that teeter on house extermination, Imperial Grace is the only thing that can save you. Professors and Chairs will assist you in the largest hunt of all times. Think of it as the establishment of a foreign colony.


    For too long, the sura savages stayed trapped in their primitive way of life. Worse than primates, they still live in tribes and have no civilization to speak of. It is time we bring them the light." Spinning 180, Hanns extended his hand toward a gray portal perched on a small step pyramid.


    Before the portal, a sky-blue orb hovered, with an Arcanist Robe, and knife-staff sealed within. As if answering Hanns'' summon, the orb flew toward him and rose in altitude so that all students could glance at what it held. For an instant, greed flashed in the 3,000 students'' eyes. But in Kilian''s, the greed remained.


    "As you well know, Arcanist Robes provide as much defense as our elites'' Golden Power Armors and boost spellpower by 50%. The knife-staff is 100% zuri and will not only multiply your casting speed by two but increase spellpower by another 35%. The benefits are self-explanatory.


    However, we only have one set. For fairness'' sake, we will grant it to this year''s fastest spellcaster," Hanns explained. But while the sight of those two items filled his heart with greed, through his cyberkinesis chip, Kilian could see what others couldn''t: the portal was rigged.


    The usual portal would send all students to the same spot, but this one instead spread them to various locations of the Sura Plane. Whoever held the staff could control the landing point of students and professors alike. Worse, the staff hid a nano-bomb Hanns could activate at all times. So while the fastest spellcaster title naturally belonged to Ayden, should Kilian attempt to claim the knife-staff through his status, Hanns could later blow him up. A vicious plan, but carried out on the wrong target.


    Standing up, Ayden and other purple-gold students walked toward the stage, eager to demonstrate their casting speed. On the scene, no one else stepped forward. But they''d barely left their seats that Kilian sent Adam a mental message. Adam relayed it to Hanns, and the headmaster''s eyes twitched.


    "Or so it should have been. Instead, we will give it to Kilian, in hopes he''s not discouraged by his lack of attributes and strives to become the best magus of all times. Thank you for your understanding," Hanns added, stopping the purple-golds mid-tracks. Three-thousand pairs of eyes simultaneously turned toward Kilian, but while in some awe shone¡ªin the majority¡ªhatred blazed.


    "Now this is what you call having eyes bigger than one''s stomach. Kilian, Kilian, are you not afraid of public anger, or is that what you want?"


    Ayden wondered, and indeed the students could not restrain themselves. If not for Hanns keeping them all suppressed with his Dra Shackle, many would have pounced on Kilian. Forced to swallow their anger, they silently grumbled, swearing to let it all explode during the hunt.


    Kilian received his new toys, and Hanns had the students line up before the portal. Their servants stood beside them. Brown robes could bring one servant. Silver robes could bring three; black golds had a quota of nine, white golds of 27, and purple golds of 81. Few came without a full house.


    Activating the portal, Esther stood at its left, watching the purple-gold robes dive into the multicolor vortex, and mark the academy''s departure for the Sura Plane.

 76 3,000 Years of Agony

    "Master, are you sure I can have it?" Lena asked while pressing the Arcanist Robe against her chest. Never did she expect that as soon as he received the items, Kilian would grant her the robe. And while she sought confirmation, her arms tightened around it.


    "I...of course, you can. Arcanist Robes stretch or shrink to adjust whoever wears them. Do not fail me," Kilian replied, but with every word, felt as if flaming daggers stabbed his heart. But while Kilian''s soul screamed to get the robe back, his reason prevailed. And as students and servants dove into the portal, little did they know that Kilian handpicked their locations, venting his frustration by dropping hundreds in rivers¡ªAyden and other von Skolls didn''t escape.


    Past the black-gold robes, Kilian no longer bothered choosing the students'' locations. It mattered not. At the head of the silver robes, Kilian was about to step into the portal when he felt two stares nailing him. Esther, who stood at his left, and Carmen a step behind him.


    With a smile, Kilian ambled into the portal, vanishing alongside Urag and Lena¡ªInyoka and the aistis hid in the Hellforge.


    ¡­


    While 99.99% of students faced the portal, Anke sat in her room, hand on cheek, with her silver robe reminding onlookers of her status. A man Kilian would have effortlessly recognized as Wilfried¡ªKlaus'' guard captain¡ªand the hand that carried out the tribe''s slaughter, stood at her right.


    "Your Ladyship, we''re getting late," Wilfried said, but Anke''s sapphire eyes didn''t budge, remaining glued on the wall where seven paintings of the same man stood.


    "Uncle is back?" She asked, and in response, Wilfried nodded.


    "Indeed, His Grace has returned, stronger than ever. In today''s Arcadia, few can rival him." Now aware of his master''s secret, that Klaus emerged stronger from all mishaps, no longer surprised Wilfried. But as he considered the cost, a sigh left his lips.


    The new Kilian threatens Arcadia''s stability; for the sake of His Grace''s goals, we must eliminate him. I took it upon myself to register as your servant so that together, we could dispose of this scourge. Your Ladyship mustn''t waste my time," Wilfried explained. Though he addressed Anke as "Your Ladyship," his status in Kars only lost to Klaus. In Wilfried''s eyes, only two types of people existed: Klaus and the rest. Naturally, unless Klaus willed it, he wouldn''t allow "the rest" to waste his time.


    "You didn''t tell him about this, right?" Anke asked, and again, Wilfried nodded.


    "His Grace needs time to recover from his slumber. We can''t let the name disturb him." Better than most, Wilfried knew what the name "Kilian" represented to Klaus. Klaus only ever passed one despotic law: banning that name from Kars. Before Kilian''s birth, and after his death, Kars didn''t have another Kilian. And while Wilfried too didn''t know the exact roots of that obsession, he feared that the existence of a world-famous Kilian would distract Klaus from his recovery¡ªnot that he could hide it for much longer.


    "I suppose that''s for the best. How many have I killed so far?"


    "Since the Young Duke''s death, on average, you strangled three Kilians per day, a total of 272," Wilfried replied and glanced at the seven paintings drawn by Anke, each depicted Kilian from 12 to 18. Used to this sight, he had no strong reactions.


    "Then I suppose it''s time for a 273rd. Let''s hope this one feels more real," Anke said. For a second, an eerie glint flashed in her eyes¡ªbut before Wilfried could spot it¡ªshe rose from her seat and walked out the door. He followed right after.


    ¡­


    As Kilian, Lena and Urag stepped into the portal, a passageway of shifting light appeared before their eyes. The spectacle didn''t last over one breath, and the three turned into arrow-shaped beams that vanished through the exit. As in many other locations of the Sura Plane, a vortex opened, letting two arrows of light dive into the new world. The arrows landed on a verdant ground, morphing to become Kilian and Urag.


    "Eh? Where is the lass?" Urag asked, puzzled by Lena''s disappearance.


    "For the sake of her growth, I sent her someplace else," Kilian leisurely replied, while picturing Lena''s cries of indignation.


    "You''re sure you''re not taking revenge for the robe?"


    "Nonsense, why would I get revenge for something I gave her?"


    "With you, you never know. It''s not like you''re an unpredictable and erratic mofo," Urag countered.


    Ignoring him, Kilian swept the landscape with his amber eyes. The Sura Plane''s sky was an eternal icy blue. Yet, lush prairies and peach blossom forests stretched as far as the eyes could see. And this was only in Kilian''s location.


    If there was one thing the Sura Plane didn''t lack, it was vegetation. What men saw as exotic trees and forests became commonplace in this fairy tale of a land. The weakest of all immortal races, suras were born pacifists, content in raising new varieties of flowers and trees. They didn''t have cities in the proper sense and lived in communion with nature. Split into 3,000 tribes, three million suras populated this tiny, circular plane, and revolved around the royal tribe.


    They didn''t need to eat and drank liquefied dra from their translucent rivers. Humans called it divine water. Before their first contact with humanity, besides their floral practices, suras sang and danced all day long. But starting with Adramelech''s establishment of the von Skoll dynasty and first invasion of this plane, they lived in constant fear and agony.


    With enthralling beauty that rivaled fehls, a physique human magi could seal in Elemental Crystals for mouth-watering boons, and a plane so rich that it filled Exarchs with wanton greed, the suras soon fell to humanity''s assault. Captivity, ****, and slaughter galore marred this world.


    Guilty of wealth, guilty of weakness, they couldn''t fight back, and from the initial 100 million, the suras shrank to one million. Fortunately for them, foreigners couldn''t remain in the plane for over three months. Humans also realized that by indulging their new vice, they''d exterminate a massive source of wealth. So the empire restrained Sura Hunts and limited the quotas to the top academies.


    With 3,000 years of "paced" abuse and low fertility, they could only grow back to three million. And while suras were all born able to weave dra, they possessed execrable arcane talent. Most stopped at Lesser Emissaries, and across a population of three million, they didn''t have ten Archons.


    An alluring world in ruins, that was the Sura Plane.

 77 Grand Larceny

    "So what''s the big plan? You''re not really here to hunt suras, are you?" Urag asked. Increasingly familiar with Kilian''s mind, he doubted that his son-in-law would stoop so low.


    "Ha, hell no. I''m here to sign contracts and hunt humans," Kilian chortled, cracked his knuckles, and ambled toward the nearby peach blossom forest. There, three purple-golds, 12 white-golds, and 567 servants gathered. When they first landed in this random location, confusion swept over the students. However, since all were established magi and older than 26, they quickly regained their composure¡ªformed a hunting battalion¡ªand prepared to ambush both suras and their peers.


    Yes, not just Kilian. Most students came prepared to hunt peers. On the one hand, high-ranked students packed many resources. On the other hand, though incomparable to the Mortal Plane in size, the Sura Plane was still larger than Arcadia.


    With thrice the size of Asia, finding sura tribes was no mean task. Stripping other humans of their loot became rational. Of course, with the students'' top speed surpassing cars and the transportation machine they hid in their storage devices, mobility wasn''t an issue.


    "Have sex, not war. Why don''t you humans understand something so simple? Oh well, let''s smack some bitches."


    "Weren''t you human?"


    "Like 30,000 years ago, give me a break," Urag ended the exchange, and alongside Kilian, dove into the forest. Among the 15 concealed students, none owed Kilian money. However, their months of accumulated rage ensured they''d carve his heart out at the first opportunity.


    Even before Kilian stepped into the deciduous forest, he''d made a thorough assessment of his foes. The three purple-gold robes were top-level High Emissaries and the 12 white-golds low to mid-level High Emissaries. As for the 567 servants, 363 were High Templars and the rest High Emissaries.


    But while such a lineup could force Orloth''s aristocracy on its knees, before Kilian, it posed no threat.


    When they first spotted him, the hidden students'' eyes shone with excitement.


    "Hahaha, who said God was a myth? Obviously, he''s smiling down on us; the pipsqueak is here!" A purple-gold robe exclaimed, chortling alongside his peers who now beamed at Kilian''s entrance.


    "God, destiny, luck, who cares? Take this scourge''s head and hang it on a spike!" Another purple-gold followed, and instantly, 26 High Templars shot toward Kilian, all competing for his vitals¡ªall ignored Urag. But as their blades neared, Kilian''s lips curled up, and he raised his right hand.


    "Grasp of Avarice!"


    Dark-green light swirled around Kilian''s hand, and the 26 blades vanished from their owners'' palms to hover beside Kilian. They weren''t the only ones. From templars to emissaries, the weapons and knife-staves of all on the scene left their holders to form a weapon rain above the 26 templars.


    Defying gravity, they backflipped, but before they got out of the weapon rain''s range, hundreds of swords, spears, and knife-staves skewered them from above, and tore them all to shreds!


    "On average, those weapons are worth 9,000 qraftas each, we got 567, so about 5.1 million. Good loot. But if you got more, please present them," Kilian broke into a gleeful laugh, and as his foes processed the scene, he aimed his hands at their hiding places.


    "Grasp of Avarice: Inventory Mapping!"


    A dark-green sphere formed around Kilian, expanding to enclose the 541 remaining "hunters." Above their heads, screens took shape, mapping everything they held from their robes to the devices hidden in their storage watches¡ªtheir eyes almost popped out of their sockets.


    "This is why I love second generation ancestors. You guys leave daddy''s hut with enough wealth to make a state choke from envy and act as if your house owned the street. Don''t you know that burglars hide in the wilds?


    Grasp of Avarice: Grand Larceny!" Arms outstretched, Kilian uttered the words, conjuring green coats of light that wrapped students and servants alike, before robbing them of all they possessed. Even the underpants weren''t spared. A massive green treasure coffer appeared before him, opened, and received the haul.


    Dumbfounded, the masters and servants exchanged glances, even pinching one another''s cheeks. Butt-naked and dick-hanging, they covered their genitals with one hand, emerged from the shadows, and aimed their wobbling fingers at Kilian.


    "Y-you are going too far! What kind of magic is this?"


    "Pilfering thief, give me back my clothes!"


    "Did your parents send you to college so you could rob your peers'' underpants?"


    "Where is your noble dignity?" The students clamored, Kilian''s coffer turned into green mist and plunged into his forehead. Unabashed, he leaned over and pointed at his hair.


    "Look at my hair, bitches. I''m a commoner, not a noble, an upstart straight out of a low-class tribe. Before scum like me, how dare you have valuables? That''s your first sin.


    Second, you lack nothing, yet have the gals to invade a foreign world and hide behind trees like some highway bandits to hunt and loot peers and suras alike? What is wrong with you?" Kilian asked and straightened his back to sweep the trembling students and the noble servants behind them.


    "You don''t even have the Mark of Greed, yet compete with me in my sin. I''d say heavens sent me, but I just get high on giving scum an epic slaughter. And frankly, you guys ain''t worth shit.


    Fourth Circle Spell: Dark Aurora!"


    Joining his hands together, Kilian let his dra explode in a berserk surge of occult energies. Dark-purple light coated his frame, expanded, and turned him into an enormous ball of dark light. The dark light swept all on the scene, thriving on Kilian''s negativity to ignore Urag and target the foes only.


    The first true spell of the Sura Hunting Game¡ªthe Dark Aurora stretched across a 100 meters diameter¡ªand incinerated the 541 naked hunters, leaving heaps of dark ashes behind.


    Wrecked by dark magic, servants and masters'' souls screamed against the world and mourned their own deaths.


    Arching his head back, Kilian relished in the satisfaction of his greed, and the demise of his foes. The fehl high took him onto cloud nine, and he just stood there, bent at an obtuse angle.

 78 Vindictive Retribution

    "Woohoo! That''s how you nail them, son! Just for that, gimme five!" Urag wiggled his head and raised his hand before Kilian. Rolling his eyes, Kilian ignored Urag''s palm and activated his Eye of Fehl. The more power he obtained¡ªthe more vices he satisfied¡ªthe stronger the Eye became. And across his time in the academy, its might rose by leaps and bounds.


    Using his Revelation, Kilian swept the whole forest and beyond, not only locating the closest groups but even glimpsing at the nearest sura tribe.


    "Next targets located, don''t fall behind."


    "If they have lasses, I want one."


    "You can have the loose cunts, I only want the loot," Kilian agreed, and the two''s figures blurred as they raced toward the next hunters. Slinging magic and whistling blades sang a grim symphony as the heads of dozens of high-ranking students soared into the sky. Of course, none owed Kilian money.


    ¡­


    Back in his camp, Hanns stared at a floating mirror where 3,000 lights representing the students'' lives stood. In a flash, 15 vanished. One breath afterward, another seven followed, then three and twelve.


    In less than ten minutes, the academy had lost 37 students, with most being white-gold robes, and even several purple-gold robes. Feeling something amiss, Hanns triggered the nano-bomb hidden in Kilian''s knife-staff, but the explosion never came. The headmaster''s eyes narrowed at the detonator.


    "We were swindled. The boy is strong," he realized, far too late, and dispatched new messages to Ayden, Tristan, and other von Skoll juniors.


    "Do not engage him alone, not even you, Ayden. We must consider that all he did up until now was a sham, that he came here aiming to clean our side and has the strength to achieve it. If you find him, contact me first and avoid a confrontation at all costs. Especially you three, Ayden, Tristan and Estrella, the future of our house lies in your han-" Hanns'' words trailed off, broken by a sight his experienced eyes couldn''t digest. In three seconds, 126 dots vanished from the screen. This couldn''t possibly be Kilian''s doing. Something else wantonly slaughtered the academy''s students.


    "I will give you my location, all of you must hurry and come to me at once. We are...under assault," Hanns declared, but alas, his order came too late.


    ¡­


    "I''m...afraid it won''t be that simple," alone before a pond, Ayden whispered as five "students" and dozens of servants surrounded him. Robes and clothes dropped, replaced by state-of-the-art blue power armors¡ªthe Technocracy made its move.


    ¡­


    In a chocolate mimosa forest, Tristan and Estrella stood side by side, flanked by four "students" and their dozens of servants. The same scene repeated, with the student and servants'' clothes crumbling for power armors to replace them. And while similar events occurred with several von Skoll scions, they were far from the worst.


    ¡­


    Approaching the first sura tribe, Kilian was about to engage a new group of students, five purple-gold robes and their 405 retainers¡ªwhen violet light flashed in the sky¡ªand a cacophony of voices sang: "Third Circle Spell: Fehl Bolt!"


    Three-hundred bolts of fehl magic hurtled past peach blossom trees and slammed three-hundred of the retainers'' backs, killing them each with one projectile.


    "Third Circle Spell: Fehl Bolt!"


    Before the survivors could make sense of the attack, thrice the number of Fehl Bolts barreled into them, blasting the remaining retainers into pieces, then embroiling the purple-gold robes.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Holy Barrier!" Snapping out of their stupor, the five students moved their hands in the fastest incantation gestures of their lives and united to weave their most powerful defense: Holy Barrier.


    A golden orb of light surrounded them, stretching across dozens of meters and resisting the Fehl Bolts'' berserk assault in ear-splitting collisions. Overpowered by the bolts'' sheer power, the shield cracked and collapsed, letting dozens of remaining projectiles fly by and calcine four of the five students.


    Spiraling across the air, the sole survivor tumbled, and alone faced 300 pairs of eyes that emerged from the forest''s shadows.


    "Is this what humans feel when they crush their foes? I must say that it is rather fulfilling," a melodious voice echoed from the forest''s shadows before the 300 hidden casters stepped forward.


    On average standing at 1.6 meters, a gathering of men and women with long elfin ears, translucent skin, and three pairs of butterfly wings graced the purple-gold, Kilian and Urag with their presence. But while each possessed enough beauty to throw a country into chaos, even Urag didn''t feel aroused.


    "S-suras? No, that''s not possible. How could this be? Your wings! You''re no-" the purple-gold rattled off, but would never finish his words as one sura punched through his face with his tiny fist. The horrid move took even Kilian by surprise.


    "Something is not right, look at their eyes and wings," Kilian whispered while the suras turned to face them. And indeed, those 300''s appearances were off. Suras had silver butterfly wings that glittered like a starry sky. So magnificent were their wings that some captors didn''t hesitate to tear them off. In the heydays of alchemy, the appearance of sura wings could turn the market upside down. Only because the practice ruined their magical abilities and worth, did the empire ban it.


    But contrary to the norm, those 300''s wings were bright gold and shimmered in dark light. As for their eyes, from scleras to irises, all was black.


    The last student''s killer pulled out his fist, and like his peers, spun to face the pair.


    "When humanity choked under the reign of the Night Master, the Prime Lord opened the door to our plane and lobbied our assistance. Without a second thought, we helped and set up the formation that allowed your victory. It was the Prime Lord''s sacrifice, not the von Skolls, that ended the Night Master''s reign.


    I can still remember how Eginolf, your first emperor, led a procession of human magi to offer us thanks and gifts...then pillaged our home and burned our trees. My fallen queen''s screams still plague my days.


    For 3,000 years, humanity ravaged our world, giving us no room to breathe.


    For 3,000 years, suras wailed because they didn''t have the tools to fight back. It ends now.


    The Sura World declares war on humanity, and pledges not to rest until the last of human filth vanishes from existence," the sura elder declared and raised his hand, signaling for his subordinates to assault Kilian.

 79 Atomic Dissociation

    "What do you think?" Urag asked Kilian as the 300 suras encircled them. Of the group, 276 rivaled top-level High Emissaries, 23 rivaled low-level Archons, and the leader reached the mid-level.


    "Fehl mutations? No, corruption. A high-level fehl must have corrupted them through some ritual, bringing them infinitely close to daemonhood," Kilian hypothesized.


    "Yep, those bitches are more daemons than suras. I guess we can call them fehl suras. This shit''s serious son. At the very least, they have a Fehl Prince behind them," Urag said in the gravest tone he''d ever used before Kilian. Below the Prince rank, fehls didn''t have enough power to corrupt a race on this scale. Still, the knowledge that a Fehl Prince backed the suras didn''t startle Urag. After all, high-ranking fehls enticed and bargained with lesser races all the time. The scope was the real issue.


    "Find a god and pray that those 300 are the end of it because if we face legions, things will get nasty." Although Sura Magic didn''t have many destructive abilities, in terms of versatility, few disciplines could compare. Let''s not mention their physical changes; once those fehl suras combined their innate abilities with Fehl Magic, their overall strength would skyrocket.


    "Third Circle Spell: Reinforcement Link!"


    "Third Circle Spell: Maximized Potential!"


    Through the instantaneous fehl casting, the 300 suras conjured a slew of silver, arcane circles that rotated above them as their spells kicked into gear, making their magical abilities overlap and their battle-prowess reach its full potential. Worse, each could now see through the eyes of their peers.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Ground Conversion," the 24 Archons whispered, conjuring clouds of gray smoke that spread across 6,000 square meters. The smoke seeped into the earth and trees, changing their properties and turning the battlefield into the suras'' ally.


    With one glance, the leaders realized that Urag and Kilian didn''t play in the same league as the fallen students. Therefore, they pulled no punch.


    "I considered the von Skolls, considered the Technocracy, but never anticipated that once in, the suras would turn into the biggest threat. My mistake. Urag, I will send you to Lena. Watch over her from the shadows and don''t reveal your presence unless absolutely necessary. Kilian ordered, activated his Eye of Distortion, and opened a space vortex aimed at Lena''s location.


    Alarmed, the suras fired myriads of purple bolts at the portal but instead clashed with an energy shield raised by Kilian.


    "You sure about that? They ain''t no pushovers. Oh well, just don''t make my girl a widow." Not bothering to wait for Kilian''s answer, Urag leaped into the portal and vanished within. Unable to break Kilian''s energy shield in time, the fehl suras could only watch Urag depart and the portal close behind him.


    "You should have left with him," said the leader. Although Kilian''s third eye marked him as a fehl mutant, in the suras'' eyes, it changed nothing.


    "You shouldn''t have come," Kilian replied. At first, he considered striking a bargain, but the more he studied the suras, the more he realized that "discussion" no longer existed in their vocabulary.


    Gray smoke billowed from the ground, forming a magical screen that prevented the average magus'' Mage Sight from locating the suras. Closing his useless eyes, Kilian activated his Revelation, and for three seconds, the suras observed him in silence. Predatory gazes nailed Kilian from all sides, registering everything from how he breathed to the flutter of his eyelids.


    A cracking sound broke the silence, and the battle began. Armed with their fists, 37 suras pounced on Kilian. Purple lightning cracked around their forms, enhancing their speed and destructive powers to the limit. At their back, their peers chanted:


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Fehl Shackles!"


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Withering!"


    Massive white chains sprang from all sides and surrounded Kilian while the pressure of an invisible force barreled into him to enfeeble his muscles and bones. In perfect tandem, the 37 pugilists neared Kilian, and riding on their peers'' chains, unleashed an explosion of punches.


    The energy shield collapsed, blasted into pieces by the chains'' constriction. One of the major advantages of Fehl Magic was that unlike other disciplines, it didn''t have weaknesses. Fehl spells englobed all attributes, surpassed all and feared none. But as chains and punches neared him, Kilian''s third eye went from gray to crimson.


    "Aversion Field!" There was no fancy display, no theatrical move¡ªbut the chains ignored Kilian and wrapped around the 37 suras instead. Alarmed, they strove to break free by thrashing against their peers'' binds. At the same time, the hidden suras tried to cancel their spells but were a step short.


    "Compression!" Kilian slammed his hands together and pulled by irresistible compression forces, the 37 suras crashed into one another and burst into a blood fog. With no targets left, the chains crumbled in light particles. Bewildered, the 263 remaining suras stared blankly at Kilian.


    "It''s that eye? The Eye?" The Archons realized. Although suras didn''t have much access to foreign planes, they still knew the legends of the Eye of Fehl. However, so rare was the Eye that they didn''t associate it to Kilian till now¡ªblaming the previous portal on a teleportation device.


    But as reality dawned upon them, red lightning surged from Kilian''s chest, and his Philosopher''s Stone absorbed the fallen souls.


    "Believe me, I understand. You didn''t have it easy. And now that you have the means to fight, your bottled hatred indiscriminately explodes. Sadly, blind vindictiveness only lets you play in the palm of your oppressor. Even if you slew all humans across the multiverse, it wouldn''t change the fact that the one to whom you owe all your grief¡ªis now a Fehl Prince.


    Fourth Circle Spell: Infernal Arsenal!" Four dark-purple circles appeared and rotated beside Kilian as he summoned his handmade Arcana: Abyssal Technomancy.


    Six floating obsidian cannons formed around Kilian fired purple dra lasers at the suras. Earthen walls and hundreds of vine barriers condensed before them, resisting Kilian''s barrage.


    Thundering blasts rattled the peach blossom forest as Kilian''s Infernal Arsenal clashed with nature. Abandoning their posts, the suras left the shroud''s protection and flew into the sky.


    Without a second thought, Kilian followed, threading on dra to soar into the sky, and the two sides met in an aerial battle. Turning into meteors of light, the suras assailed Kilian from all sides, but with the Eye of Revelation, he could not only predict all their moves but see the flaws in the formation.


    Using their hands as sabers, seven suras chopped at Kilian but met thin air. Reappearing behind them, Kilian blasted burning holes in their chests with his dark cannons and vanished to avoid another ambush.


    Eighteen suras fired dra projectiles at the cannons while four stepped into Kilian''s range, aiming at his eyes, neck, crotch and back. Whirling 360, Kilian evaded the killing moves, and slapped the fours'' heads off!


    In several breaths of time, the two camps exchanged dozens of moves. And as their numbers shrank--the fehl suras realized that at this rate--defeat was a matter of time.


    "You can''t blame the genocide of 100 million on one man when legions willingly took part in the slaughter! That--is too human!


    Fourth Circle Spell: Soul Gathering!" The leader bellowed, and a blaze of gray flames swept the 240 surviving suras, uniting them in one Quasi-Exarch entity. The magnified pressure of the suras bore down on Kilian, forcing him back onto the ground.


    "Fifth Circle Spell: Fehl Fury!"


    The icy-blue sky vanished under a gathering of magenta clouds that bloated everything across dozens of kilometers. Ayden, Tristan, Estrella, Hanns, the Technocracy''s agents, all saw it, and all shivered before this manifestation of Exarch-level might!


    Hanns, who better than the others understood the might of Fifth Circle Spells, couldn''t imagine who in the Sura Plane might possess that strength. Although he too could cast one, it''d exhaust all he had.


    But as Kilian faced the cracking lightning and brewing thunderstorm, fear didn''t ripple in his eyes. White-red lightning surged from his Philosopher''s Stone, wrapped his frame, and boosted his magical abilities far beyond their limits.


    "I guess I can''t take anyone alive, after all¡ªAtomic Dissociation!"


    Kilian raised one hand, his lightning flashed and all came to a halt. Yes, the suras, the brewing thunderstorm, the smoke and whirlwinds, all came to a standstill.


    But as he experienced this unprecedented ability, the sura leader''s eyes and lips widened in a mix of horror and anguish.


    "Adramelech, you...are Adra¡­" the leader''s words reached an abrupt end. The Fehl Fury collapsed in light particles, and just like it, the 240 sura bodies crumbled into dust. Across 25 hectares, all things from trees to butterflies became...nothing. Only Kilian remained.


    His triumph didn''t last for long. Blood poured from his eyes, ears and forehead. Shrugging off the pain, he mustered his last bit of strength to swallow the 240 souls in his Philosopher''s Stone. Only then did he heave a sigh and collapse on his knees.

 80 Wrath, Envy and Pride Part 1

    Retching noises broke the new desert''s silence as Kilian puked a liter of blood. If the von Skolls'' Nuclear Manipulation ranked first among humanity''s Arcane Bloodlines, then Adramelech''s Atomkinesis could compete for first spot on the multiverse scale. But even with his Philosopher''s Stone, this wasn''t an ability Kilian could freely abuse. The stronger the foes, the greater their numbers, the more taxing it became. Still, as Kilian''s Philosopher''s Stone, Dra Control and strength increased, it''d get easier.


    On average, the 300 suras held 3,400 dra each. Digesting their souls, Kilian''s depleted Philosopher''s Stone''s Dra Reserves grew by 1.02 million dra. With such reserves, he could cast 20 Fifth Circle Spells or die 20 times before having to replenish his soul stock. No wonder Flawless Stones brought hexes. And as the stone nullified the backlash, Kilian summoned Inyoka, then fell face first.


    "Sss, sss!" Expanding to a full ten meters, Inyoka hoisted Kilian onto his back and carried him away. With 25 hectares of desert and no clear direction, the serpent could only follow his heightened senses to find a more suitable shelter. Little did he know that they''d lead him to a sura tribe about 50 meters away from Kilian''s battleground. The strongest of Kilian''s abominations, Inyoka could make minced meat of mid-level Archons and didn''t mind cleaning the place for safety. However, even with the distance, two predominant scents ruled that tribe: fear and helplessness.


    Feeling no threat, Inyoka made his camp and led Kilian to a pond of Divine Water. One of the most coveted treasures of the Sura Plane, Divine Water not only increased Dra Reserves but contained astounding healing properties. Instinctively, Inyoka wished to feed his master¡ªbut as he neared the pond¡ªhe stopped and squinted at the water.


    "Wait, don''t touch that!" A melodious voice came from Inyoka''s left, and he coiled to face its owner.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Lena crossed a forest of weeping cherry trees, herself restraining tears.


    "Master, how could you be so heartless and just dump me in the middle of nowhere?" Lena complained, and imagining how the aistis were now free to crowd her master, she couldn''t restrain her grief. But as she approached a clearing, Lena paused, dusted off her Arcanist Robe and bent back. Three silent knives flew by, nailing the spot her head stood in a second before. With masterful reflexes, Lena snatched all three knives and hurled them back at their senders.


    Ringing sounds followed, and the blades tumbled. Fifteen shadows leaped from behind the trees to surround Lena. All wore blue power armors that left no skin exposed.


    "Fifteen High Templars, just for me?" Lena thought out loud. Though across her time in the Academy, she''d progressed to low-level High Emissary, surely she didn''t deserve such a welcome party. Even if the technocrats wished to target Kilian through her, this didn''t make sense.


    "Don''t flatter yourself. They''re here for me," a voice came from behind the armored goons, and they sidestepped to let a woman pass. Dressed in a black-gold robe, with the typical black hair and amber eyes of the von Skolls, Lena recognized her at a glance.


    "Irma von Skoll belongs to the Technocracy?" she blurted. Strength-wise, among the von Skoll scions, Irma and Alan didn''t rank high. However, as the son and daughter of Gerlach, their unique status put them on the front row. Top-level Exarch, Grand Master of the Divine Glory and Niklas'' only friend, Gerlach stood at the summit of the von Skoll hierarchy. How could his children belong to the Technocracy?


    "Try again," Irma replied as if reading through Lena''s thoughts, and her appearance underwent drastic changes. Back-length dreadlocks replaced her curly hair, the amber eyes turned hazel, and her figure morphed to become that of a 17 years old beauty. With a tiny waist and perfectly toned physique, the girl''s athletic appeal would have snatched attention if not for the burning wrath visible in her eyes.


    Seeing her, Lena arched her eyebrows, "Tamara?" she asked, for indeed, hiding behind the name of Irma, was none other than Tamara, the fallen Lukas'' sister.


    "Meaning that Alan...is Bjorn?" Lena realized, and as she put two and two together, Tamara''s lips curled into a fiendish grin.


    "Right. Long time no see, sister-in-law. Wait, now I guess it is slut," Tamara replied, and with a hand wave, dismissed the 15 templars. Seeing the armored technocrats leave for other targets, Lena frowned.


    "Are you sure this is wise?"


    "You are not my match. Without your fehl master, you ain''t worth shit. Don''t worry, after I maul you into pieces, I will send him your remains." Tearing off her black-gold robe, Tamara revealed a gray chainmail that only covered her breasts, arms and legs. For a technocrat, such archaic defenses made no sense, so Lena didn''t doubt the mail stored secret boons. And ignoring Tamara''s words, she adopted her battle stance, with her left foot on front, and her hands raised to chin level. Amused, Tamara sneered, and with neither stance nor form, stomped her foot. Faster than Lena''s eyes could follow, Tamara assailed her neck with an elbow strike.


    Bending back, Lena threw her right knee at Tamara''s chin, but the latter''s elbow changed direction and smashed into Lena''s knee instead. Bones cracked, and gathering her dra in her left foot, Lena leaped out of Tamara''s range, stumbled, and fell on her right knee.


    "I am a mahana, in physique, you can''t compare," Tamara said, and by the time her words reached Lena, she reappeared at her back with her right leg dropping in an ax kick.


    Hellfire burst from Lena''s form, surging like an unstoppable blaze to embroil Tamara and everything in a three-meter radius. But even with the hellfire latching on her, Tamara''s ax kick went on unimpeded, forcing Lena to roll to the side.


    The kick smashed into the ground with an explosion of smoke and rubble, reminding Lena that if it reached her skull, her life was forfeit. Still trapped in Lena''s hellfire, Tamara made a slow turn toward her foe, but wasting no time, Lena slammed her fists on the ground:


    "Third Circle Spell: Terrestrial Blast!"


    The explosion hit Tamara point-blank, but shrugging it off, she rushed past it, landed before Lena, and kicked at her face.


    *Bang*


    Crossing her arms before the blow, Lena blocked it but flew backward from the impact. If not for the Arcanist Robe''s protection, her arms'' bones would have shattered on the spot.


    "Mahanas don''t fear magic," Tamara stated, and in a flash, surrounded Lena with a flurry of kicks.

 82 Wrath vs. Envy vs. Pride Part 2

    Across Arcadia''s millennia of history, even before men developed the means to control magic¡ªunique individuals gifted with godlike strength, speed, resilience and regeneration abilities occasionally appeared¡ªalways achieving legendary feats. The most prominent of them all emerged in the second emperor''s reign and came from a large warrior tribe whose language vastly differed from today''s Arcadians.


    His personal name isn''t recorded in history, but the world remembers him for being the only genuine threat to von Skoll rule across 3,000 years. Alone he waged a bloody war against the imperial family and nearly succeeded in slaughtering them to the last. To celebrate his unrivaled strength and achievements, his tribesmen named him Mahana, or "grand noble" in their tongue.


    However, though unequaled in might, Mahana lacked a strategic mind, and each time he assaulted the empire, his vulnerable tribe suffered the brutality of the imperial forces.


    While they could have directly wiped them out, the von Skolls took care to kill a few and abuse the many, making resentment against Mahana grow at his back. The then High Priest of the Dark Eden Society conducted a grand sabbat to summon Adramelech and borrow the Anathema from his hands.


    Still, while the Anathema could slash through everything, few could get close enough to put it to use. The Dark Eden Society negotiated the secret surrender of Mahana''s tribe, and the second emperor bestowed the blade upon his daughter, promising to spare the tribe and make her his empress after her father''s death. Mahana was then murdered by the one he trusted most.


    But while his daughter did become empress, she couldn''t endure the resentment devoured by the Anathema, killed her tribesmen, and committed suicide. The blade then returned to Adramelech, and while the imperial family attempted to erase all records of the warlord''s abilities, too many eyes bore witness. Since then, whenever such superhumans appeared, arcane scholars dubbed them mahanas, and despite their varying physical prowesses and skills, they all possessed the same trait: magic couldn''t harm them, and they couldn''t use it, either. In his second life, Kilian was one such individual.But using his Six-Wheels Throne Heart, Klaus devised a way to suppress and alter the mahana gene so that on the one hand Kilian could learn magic, while on the other, the duke could nullify his son''s anti-magic skills at any time.


    As the name implied, all members of the Technocracy''s Mahana Department were mahanas. However, only 1% were born so. The rest possessed a close enough genome that the technocrats could turn them into quasi-mahanas. Still, even as Tamara''s sweeping kick hurtled at her temple, Lena''s eyes showed no dread.


    "Third Circle Spell: Sound Breaking Step!" Willing two orange circles, Lena gathered her dra in her feet and let it all explode in one propulsion. The sonic boom of supersonic speed thundered as Lena outpaced Tamara''s kick and barreled into her.


    Breaking Tamara???s momentum, Lena smashed into the mahana''s armored chest with an elbow strike, but before the move sent her shooting across the sky, Lena whirled into Tamara''s back, and battered her skull with her healthy knee. The mahana''s skull cracked, fresh blood stained Lena''s knee, but even as Tamara''s consciousness faded, the hellhound choked her with a back neck-lock.


    "Thank you for telling me what worked on you and what didn''t. Thank you for looking down on me and giving me such a gracious opportunity. Otherwise, the fight would have been a hell of a lot more troublesome," Lena whispered in Tamara''s ears, bared her fangs, and with one bite tore through her carotid.


    Tamara''s blood gushed forth and splattered Lena''s face before her inert body collapsed on the ground¡ªor so it should have been. Dropping on her hands instead, Tamara averted her fall and threw a back kick at Lena''s chest.


    Too late to avoid it, she blocked the kick with her crossed arms and used the collision to fly out of the bleeding Tamara''s range.


    "You can even keep fighting with a ripped carotid? Impressive," the hellhound commented as she regained her footing. By now, her broken knee had already healed. But likewise, Tamara''s ripped artery wouldn''t take over three minutes for a full recovery. Holding her gashed neck, Tamara spun to face Lena with gritted teeth and burning rage.


    "What? Don''t tell me that you also resent me for defending myself. Am I supposed to spread out my arms and kiss you while you beat me to death? Come on," Lena stretched out her hands and chided to lure Tamara into more mistakes.


    However, this time Tamara didn''t let conceit get over her head, cooled her wrath, and as her gaze hardened, the chain mails covering her chimed like church bells. Silver light burst from the mails, coiling around Tamara to cover her in a skintight, muscle fiber armor.


    But while the change seemed to come from the chain mail, Lena suspected that it only served as a vector, that just like her master, those mahanas could summon power armors to make their fighting skills skyrocket. She was right, and this ability made all the difference between true and quasi-mahanas.


    With a step, Tamara lunged at Lena, but despite moving faster than the speed of sound, she left no sonic boom behind. Her right hand turned into a sharp blade, and she hacked at her past friend''s neck without an ounce of hesitation. Although the Technocracy''s brainwashing dulled some of her abilities, they made up for it by turning her into a bellicose killing machine, a weapon that lived to slay her family''s and the Technocracy''s enemies.


    Knowing that the tiniest mistake could cost her life, Lena unleashed her true form. Her skin turned jet-black, with fur sprouting at various parts of her body. Her teeth became fangs, her nails massive claws, a tail emerged from her back, and as she morphed into a true hellhound, her sclera turned red.


    Releasing a guttural howl, Lena summoned a shroud of hellfire that further enhanced her skull-breaking skills. However, the flickering dark-purple flames did nothing to deter Tamara, and her move went on unimpeded.


    This time, Lena neither blocked nor evaded, directly countering with a sweeping claw at Tamra''s neck.


    The fastest would decide the fight. But as the moves neared their targets¡­


    Slash.


    Lena and Tamara''s right arms flew into the air, and their blood poured like water jets.


    Wracked by pain and thrown off balance, they rushed past one another and collapsed on the ground.

 83 The King of Nargoz Part 1

    While Tamara and Lena''s blood drenched the forest floor, a succession of claps rang from behind weeping cherry trees. A lithe figure emerged from the shadows, and as the temperate air chilled, she sauntered toward the fallen two. Following the clapping sounds, Lena and Tamara stretched their necks to glance at their assailants, and both were startled to see a young woman with the traditional curly black hair of the aristocracy and the sapphire eyes of the von Karstens.


    "Anke von Karsten?" Lena stammered as Tamara''s heart swelled with a mixture of indignation and skepticism. According to the Technocracy''s data, Anke didn''t start proper thaumaturgic training before the Academy and should just be a Lesser Emissary. How then could she inflict such wounds on the two of them?


    Lena, however, remembered Kilian''s warnings, and her mood instantly soured "If you ever have to clash with Anke, run." Realizing that if she had the tiniest chance to win, her master would never speak such words, Lena spread out her fehl senses to seek the most reliable escape route.


    Tamara, however, stood up, holding her bisected arm as she daggered Anke with a glower.


    "I thought the Arcadian nobility never meddled in duels?" Tamara scoffed, but unperturbed by the words, Anke adjusted a stray curl and replied:


    "Nonsense. The only thing that matters in a battle is victory. Since I came to kill you both, I must take no chance and strike to kill." The only reason why Anke didn''t aim for the two''s necks was that, unlike them, she could see that in the last confrontation, both gathered a large quantity of dra to protect that part. That being the case, she opted to first cripple their fighting power.


    Tamara, especially, had an extreme reliance on her four limbs. Without them, she couldn''t fight. And as the mahana secretly contacted her subordinates, dozens of armored forms rained from the sky, all tumbling beside her. Recognizing her underlings, Tamara frowned, raised her eyes, and was startled by the silent appearance of a three meters tall amethyst mecha that nimbly descended beside Anke. Equipped with missile doors, anti-aircraft beam cannons, dra propulsors, and an arsenal of cutting edge war devices, the armored giant instantly reminded Tamara of the Technocracy''s top mech suits.


    "A Crystal Lord." Both Tamara and Lena realized, the former due to the Technocracy''s knowledge, and the latter from Kilian''s teachings. The most dreadful force at Klaus'' disposal, Kars'' Crystal Lords each could rival an Archon and were more than a match for the empire''s Golden Guards. They didn''t wear power armors, but rather piloted mech suits¡ªshaped like heavy knight armors¡ªthat became infamous for their unbreakable refraction fields.


    Klaus once dispatched ten Crystal Lords to crush a coalition of Orlothi and imperial dukes that aimed to destroy his influence. The war''s aftermath left entire cities in ruin, and while no one knew how many Crystal Lords Klaus possessed, the Technocracy estimated that if not a regiment, then at least a battalion hid in Kars.


    Even without the warnings of her Hellhound senses, Lena knew that if she lingered in this place, she could forfeit her life. Alas, no escape route came forth.


    "Wilfried, I don''t need your help for such trifles," Anke said, alerting Tamara and Lena of the pilot''s identity.


    "Your Ladyship misunderstands. According to our intel, that hellhound is one of the closest retainers of the new Kilian. By capturing her, we can lure him to us. I must make sure you don''t take her life," Wilfried replied with a polite yet uncompromising tone. The cape-shaped metallic wings at his back shimmered in purple light, releasing an invisible screen that concealed everything across a 100 meters radius.


    "As you please," Anke said, bent her hands into a claw shape and made a casual swipe. Though over 15 meters away from Anke, Tamara''s remaining arm was sliced off her shoulders, rotated in the air, and landed on a tree branch.


    "Aargh!" She groaned in pain and dropped on her knees. But shock soon superseded grief. Not only did Tamara''s anti-magic fail to protect her, but her regeneration abilities also drastically slowed down.


    "How...how can she?" Tamara stammered, but Lena who observed the move in detail, finally saw through the trick.


    "It''s Dra Control. She uses Archon-level Dra Control to slice and disrupt the flow of dra within our bodies. The released energy then hacks at us," Lena whispered, while mustering her energy reserves to stand up. Hearing this, Anke nodded in approval.


    "Not bad. You have thrice the brain of the fool by your side. Why don''t you give up your master to join my banner? I heavily dote on my servants," Anke said. The dra permeating the atmosphere wasn''t a continuous flow, but an amalgam of dra particles that naturally bonded to one another.


    The disruption of that bond released a berserk surge of energy that ripped the concerned area. Klaus invented and called the technique Flow Slicing. But while Flow Slicing required Archon-level Dra Control, it also demanded supreme focus and relentless training. Those with the skills to study it didn''t have the time, and those with the time didn''t have the skills.


    Anke was the exception. In terms of Dra Control talent alone, Arcadia didn''t have anyone that could compete with her, so Klaus passed the art onto her. With it, though her thaumaturgic powers remained at the Lesser Emissary rank, Anke could effortlessly rip High Emissaries to shreds.


    "No thanks. Without master''s orders, I don''t lick cunts," Lena replied. For a second, Anke''s brows creased, but as if the words flew over her head, she aimed her left hand at Lena.


    "Then I suppose that I can only cripple y¡ª" a sweeping kick at her temple choked Anke''s words, making her whirl to avoid it.


    "Foolish," she sneered, and clawed at Tamara''s waist. But before Anke''s move could tear her dra bonds, Tamara vanished and reappeared above her, dropping with a barbaric ax-kick. Narrowly leaping out of Tamara''s range, Anke saw the ground at her previous spot explode with billowing smoke and rubble as if smashed by a dra missile.


    "My body can do the thinking," the mahana replied, and as her armored legs shimmered in a silver sheen, she rushed after Anke. Each time Anke raised her hands, Tamara vanished to reappear at another angle, preventing Anke from executing her Flow Slicing. Worse, with each move, the mahana''s speed increased, and Anke didn''t doubt that if she let things carry on, one kick would find its way into her jaw.


    Meanwhile, Lena stood on all four¡ªor three, in this case¡ªbreathing hellfire as she watched every move of the two, and waited for an opening to behead the threat. It soon came.


    Anke bent back to evade another one of Tamara''s kicks while thrusting her scalpel-like fingers at her chest. Beneath her helmet, Tamara sneered. A sonic boom thundered, and like a meteor, Lena lunged into Anke and sank her fangs into her neck.


    In that instant, both Tamara and Lena believed victory in their pocket. But Anke''s lips curved into a wolfish grin, and Lena realized that even her hellhound fangs couldn''t break past Anke''s larynx.


    Waking up to her miscalculation, Lena attempted to pull her fangs out, but Anke seized Tamara''s leg in her right hand and Lena''s neck in the left, then opened her mouth, releasing the most high-pitched, ear-splitting howl the two had ever come across. Their eardrums ruptured, their bones cracked, blood spurted from their ears, and all their internal organs experienced brutal damages.


    "B-banshee howl, you''re a...Fehl Mutant¡ª" Lena stammered, before the world around her faded into nothingness.


    "Beast mutations are so ordinary. How can they compare to the more elusive blessings of Fehl," Anke said and tossed the two toward the ground.


    "I agree," a cold, authoritative voice boomed from all corners of the forest as a figure dressed in a long black robe, embroidered with red flame patterns, and adorned with the epaulettes of a high-ranking noble made its entrance.


    As he stared at the newcomer, for the first time since his arrival, Wilfried''s gaze hardened. In this Sura Plane, few could step into his concealment screen without alerting his detectors. However, this man could. Arms crossed behind his back, the new entrant walked past the bowers, enabling Anke and Wilfried to get a glimpse of his attire and face.


    "Nargozi royalty?" They assumed from the robe. But as the face came into full view, both Anke and Wilfried''s eyes widened to impossible lengths, as if a ghost had leaped out of their darkest dreams to snatch their life and breath.


    "Impossible...impossible. An illusion? A dream?" Anke lost her composure, and eyes full of stupor, she staggered, not knowing if she should advance or retreat.


    The new entrant made the choice for her, and faster than Anke or Wilfried''s eyes could follow, he rammed his fist into her heart.


    "Then you can wake up in hell." Blood gushed from Anke''s chest as the man''s fist tore through her back, ripping the life out of her.

 84 The King of Nargoz Part 2

    As the last spark of life left her body, Anke closed her eyes. But in the second after her body turned limp, they opened wide, and she yanked herself off the Nargozi royal''s fist.


    Backpedaling five meters, Anke stumbled and dropped on one knee. The gaping hole in her chest¡ªthat injury that neither Tamara nor Lena could survive¡ªhealed at a tortoise pace. Still it healed, and before this extraordinary scene, the blue-eyed Nargozi royal didn''t bat an eyelid.


    "I''d almost forgotten. You''re the granddaughter of Alaric von Rulweil. With your Archon-level Dra Control, you can naturally use the Grand Duke''s Arcane Bloodline to perfection. Good, stomping helpless worms leave a sour taste in my mouth. At least, you can struggle," the authoritative royal said. With sweat dripping from her forehead, Anke panted and clutched her chest.


    The von Rulweils belonged to the ancestral houses that served Adramelech in his mortal life and helped found the Arcadian Empire. But in the past, their Arcane Bloodline merely built on Holy Magic to drastically boost their regeneration and healing abilities. After becoming an Exarch, however, Alaric von Rulweil modified his house''s Arcane Bloodline, creating the Hallowed Undead lineage. The Hallowed Undead Arcane Blood traded their regeneration speed to amplify their resilience and give them extra lives.


    According to hearsay, Alaric had nine extra lives, the house''s largest number. Most of his children had three or four. But Anke had seven, well, six now¡ªand before exhausting them¡ªshe couldn''t die.


    But as she stared dubiously at the royal''s eyes, Anke''s face twisted into a frown.


    "You...are not Kilian. Who are you?" she realized. Though the looks were 100% that of Kilian in his second life, it didn''t take long for Anke to discover all the inconsistencies. The man before her was a walking container of pride, hatred and arrogance. It was almost as if only two things existed in his eyes: worms and eyesores.


    Using his mech suit''s Minor Teleportation, Wilfried reappeared beside Anke and released nanomachines that flooded and repaired her body.


    "Your Ladyship, I''m afraid this man''s true identity is the last of our concerns," Wilfried said as Anke stood up. Hearing this, the fake Kilian nodded.


    "You''re absolutely correct. I, the Blood King of Nargoz must erase all of the previous model''s failings, prove my superiority by accomplishing all he couldn''t and execute him to establish my identity," the Blood King declared, and stretched out his hands¡ªmaking his dra erupt. The berserk surge of dra rocked the forest floor, triggering an earthquake that ruined Anke''s balance.


    Alongside Anke, Wilfried soared into the air and activated his dra detector to appraise his foe. The numbers left him speechless.


    "Over 100,000 dra? What is he? An Exarch?" Wilfried wondered, and seeing his foes retreat before this tiny display of force, the Blood King sneered and lunged at them.


    "Too fast," Both Anke and Wilfried thought, and unable to counter, Wilfried activated his mech suit''s refraction field, surrounding himself and Anke in an invisible barrier that blocked and returned all assaults.


    "Pointless resistance," the Blood King scoffed, and summoned a sanguine greatsword of incalculable weight. Wielding it with his right hand, the Blood King slashed open Wilfried''s refraction field, appeared before him, and raked his greatsword at the mech suit''s waist.


    One casual move, and this towering mecha able to rival an Archon was cut in two. And though the cockpit stood in the mech suit''s chest, the massive damages triggered a succession of explosions and electrical discharges that slammed and charred Wilfried''s body.


    Shrugging off the pain, Wilfried pushed his propulsors for a hasty retreat while unleashing a volley of 30 missiles and 16, sky-blue dra dreams at the Blood King. By now, he no longer counted on taking down his foe, only hoping to buy himself enough time to escape the Blood King''s sword.


    Anke too didn''t dare linger, already fleeing in the opposite direction at maximum speed. Not even bothering to evade, the Blood King hurtled at the volley, an ear-splitting blast thundered, and emerging from the clouds of smoke, the Blood King rushed past Wilfried''s half mech suit and blocked him with one hand.


    "Since it all started with you, how can you escape?" The Blood King rhetorically asked, drove his hand through the crystal mech suit''s defenses to seize Wilfried by the collar, and force him out of the mech suit. A Wilfried-shaped hole remained behind, and broken beyond repair, what remained of the mech suit burst into smithereens.


    "Von Kressner Count, what a pity that you spent your entire life living for Klaus'' glory, and to this day, don''t have children. Otherwise, I''d keep you alive just to slaughter them," the Blood King said, and with a nigh-instantaneous displacement, landed on the fleeing Anke''s back.


    "Who said you could leave?" He asked, and with a stomp, sent her cratering. Unable to resist the Blood King''s hold, Wilfried stopped all resistance and accepted his fate. At least, since he''d connected his brain to Kars'' hypercomputers, after his convalescence, his lord would learn of all he saw and prepare for the threat.


    For him, that was enough. And in a bid to get a final bit of info, Wilfried eyed the Blood King with scrutiny. His eyes stopped at his neck, or more precisely, on the blood-red mark of a crowned skull. Struck by disbelief, Wilfried''s eyes widened, and for the first time since his arrival, he shivered in fright.


    "Isn''t this the Mark of¡­" Wilfried couldn''t speak the last word, for the Blood King raised his hand, a scarlet vortex appeared at his back, and from it emerged a monstrous beast with the body of a jet-black, wingless dragon, and a gigantic maw instead of a face. One-hundred jagged fangs stood in that maw, greeting Wilfried with the most grotesque picture he''d ever witnessed in his life.


    "How may I serve you, Your Majesty?" A raucous voice resounded from the daemon''s maw-shaped face as he stretched his three meters long neck past the Blood King''s shoulders.


    "Eat, Zog''doroth. From bottom to top, make every bit count, and eat till nothing remains," the Blood King ordered, and hurled Wilfried toward Zog''doroth. The daemon didn''t delay, snatched Wilfried by his legs, opened his terrifying maw, and with dripping, sulfuric saliva, munched Wilfried from his feet all the way to his head.


    "AAAAAAAARGH!" Though a man of great courage and iron will, the Guard Captain squealed like a pig. The strident sounds were music to Zog''doroth, who derived his Fehl High from anguish¡ªand with Fehl Magic, he kept Wilfried alive till he reached his head.


    Meanwhile, the Blood King descended toward Lena and Tamara. By the time Zog''doroth devoured Wilfried''s head, the Blood King stood before Lena and stretched his hand toward her.


    But before he could touch her skin, Lena and Tamara vanished.


    "Boo! Never touch an unconscious woman! That''s the golden rule! How can you be so shameless?"


    A voice came from the Blood Kings left.


    Smack.


    And a slap struck his right cheek.


    Unprepared for the move and force, the Blood King whirled into the air, then somersaulted to land back on the ground.


    Incensed, his eyes rose to meet his face-slapper, locking on a bearded dwarf who now held Lena and Tamara on one shoulder.


    "But I suppose they don''t teach you that in fag camp, so this great imp lord has no other choice¡ªbut to reeducate you." Urag said, sealed Lena and Tamara in a purple orb, and cracked his knuckles.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Kilian awoke from his rebound-induced slumber, and his eyes opened on the blurred figure of a purple-haired woman that held him on her lap, and watched over him with a tender gaze.


    Kilian''s eyelids trembled, and he rubbed his eyes to clear the blur. The woman''s figure appeared in all her glory. And as his eyes locked on her sanguine hues, Kilian doubted his sight.


    "Eleonora?" He blurted in doubt. Seeing him rouse from sleep, Eleonora beamed and replied:


    "Greetings My King. You were taking too long to come home, so I came to fetch you."

 85 The King of Nargoz Final Par

    Nargoz, the northern kingdom. Home of one million bloodkins and two-hundred million human citizens, Nargoz ranked first among the four tributary kingdoms. And while it couldn''t compare with the grand duchies and principalities, its mineral wealth, population and military force allowed it to overshadow the majority of imperial duchies in economy and military.


    Regrettably, due to their past as vassals of the Chiropteran Dynasty, outside the bloodkins faced veiled suppression from the empire. The inside was no better, and the constant infighting, sabotage and murders of the Blood Court ensured that in each generation, Nargoz¡ªat best¡ªproduced one Archon. In his past life, Kilian took advantage of the political chaos following the previous king''s execution, led a delegation to Nargoz, forced the heir apparent into suicide, and made Eleonora queen in his stead. They then got married, trampling the dignity of house von Rulweil.


    The official story ended there. But what the world didn''t know was that Kilian seized the Tear of Kalarac, Nargoz''s Crown Jewel, and used his previous body''s unique constitution to accomplish what no one else could: bind the Tear to his soul. Using the Tear, Kilian created a perfect clone to host his soul in the case of an untimely death, gave Eleonora partial control of Tear, and left Nargoz.


    The Eye of Fehl wrecked all his plans, forcing him into the grasp of Ashera. Still, Kilian considered Nargoz his true backbone. Even if the world could somehow discover Ostria''s underground labs, no one could ever see through his link to Nargoz, see through his ownership of the Tear, and the Blood Legions Eleonora secretly cultivated for him.


    Nargoz and the Tear north, Ostria and the miniature star south. When the time came, the empire would never know what hit it. But though Eleonora''s appearance was a welcome surprise, Kilian could read through her words that a disaster struck his home base.


    "What can I say? I got executed a bit earlier than expected, ended up in the Fehl Plane, and sort of traded my soul to a big-breasted devil for a way out. It kinda changed the plans. But at least now I know that bastards do go to hell," Kilian jested, but while at first Eleonora broke into an involuntary chuckle, she quickly regained her composure, and her gaze hardened.


    "Your execution was a monumental event that swept the whole Arcadia. Klaus'' heir turned Fehl Mutant and burned at the stake. Entire Phira channels made the coverage their priority, with half the Arcadian aristocracy praising Klaus for his selflessness, and the other half delighted by the loss of his only, able heir. Klaus gathered your ashes in an urn and had it delivered to Nargoz¡ªto me.


    At first, I expected you to awaken in the Tear and focused my efforts on nourishing your backup body. But days, weeks and months passed without it showing the tiniest bit of change. If not for the Tear remaining in my control, I would have had no way, absolutely none, of knowing that you still breathed.


    Ten months. Kilian, you are quite heartless," Eleonora said, while running her silky hand through Kilian''s hair. It was one of those intimate gestures that made men feel that if they didn''t find the right words, they''d get a knife in the throat. At that time, as if popping out of nowhere, Inyoka''s head appeared above Eleonora''s right shoulder, fixing Kilian with reproaching eyes.


    "Tss, tss!" Inyoka bobbed his head and rebuked his master in snake language. Ignoring the renegade, Kilian shouldered Eleonora''s gaze and replied:


    "That''s because I have faith in your mind and wisdom. I believed that even without my words, you''d figure out my situation and take the appropriate measures. That you''d realize that if I don''t contact you, it''s because I don''t dare."


    With the undivided attention of a Fehl Overlord, there were many things Kilian couldn''t do early on. Though Jezebel never seemed to pay heed to her mother''s wishes, she was, after all, Ashera''s daughter¡ªthe pair of eyes sent to guard and watch over him. In the early stages of their relationship, Kilian trusted the Fehl Bond more than her. How then could he let her grasp his plans in Nargoz?


    And though later on the situation drastically changed, even Jezebel couldn''t say with certainty all her mother could accomplish from the Fehl Plane. That being the case, Kilian resolved to cut all contacts with Nargoz until Ostria completed the miniature star. But though his words restored her smile, Eleonora didn''t let him off the hook.


    "Your pet here claims otherwise. While you slept, he told me about the little harem you built. Apparently, you even hide seven in your soul. I''m glad to see that I have an extra pair of eyes to watch my back."


    "That''s different. My harem results from twists and turns. I had no other choice. A man must take responsibility for being irresistible. How can you blame me? Also, you have the legal position, and I even prepared a loyal pet for you. You think that if I didn''t program him to obey you, Inyoka would rat me out? How then can you say that I don''t care for you? Misunderstood! I am misunderstood!" Kilian exclaimed while waving his hands in wild, theatrical gestures. Leaping on Kilian''s shoulder, Inyoka changed his stance, now hissing to support his master.


    "But we haven''t consummated the marriage yet," Eleonora countered, amused by the master-servant pair''s display.


    "The longer you wait, the more special I will make it. But look, there''s a bush over there. If you really can''t take it anymore, we can settle this right now. Just give me three hours, but I can''t promise that you will still be able to walk or complain afterward."


    Unable to handle this level of crass, Eleonora stared slack-jawed, not knowing how to proceed. Inwardly, Kilian broke into a victorious laugh. Fortunately this was Eleonora and not Jezebel. Otherwise, she''d truly take him up on the offer.


    "Hum, hum. Never mind, we have more important things to handle. Two months ago, the Tear underwent unexpected changes and your backup body awoke," Eleonora said, and instantly, a frown stretched Kilian''s face.


    "That''s not possible. I have absolute control over the Tear. So long as my soul and consciousness remains, no one can pervert it. I set up the body so that it''d never gain consciousness without my soul. With me here, how can it awake?"


    "That''s why I initially thought you found your way home, but it soon proved me wrong. The people behind this are outstanding. They couldn''t directly seize the Tear of Kalarac, so they granted your body the Crowned Skull. So, while the clone can''t control the Tear, he could force his way out. By the time I realized the ploy, he''d already left the Mortal Plane.


    When he returned, he had an army of fehls at his back and proclaimed himself Blood King of Nargoz. To avoid a pointless confrontation, I used the Tear to hide the Blood Legions I created and escaped to the Sura Plane. He followed me and was welcomed by the Fehl Suras with open arms," Eleonora explained, again reminding Kilian that her knowledge stood far beyond what she should possess.


    Even Jezebel didn''t have a full understanding of the Marks of Sin, but Eleonora named the Crowned Skull with obvious familiarity. If not for Urag, Kilian wouldn''t even know what she referred to.


    The emblem of vanity--the Mark of Pride. Whoever bore it was destined to transcend all peers but fall due to their own hubris. Unlike the Mark of Greed, the Mark of Pride either appeared at birth, or was granted by those that mastered their sin. The bearers could ignore all contracts, destroy all barriers, and all possessed extraordinary physical abilities. Add to that the mahana skills of Kilian''s previous body and the Tear''s nurturing, and you got an exceptional opponent with the potential to ruin the chessboard.


    But as his thoughts swirled, Kilian didn''t pay much attention to the Blood King. Rather, his thought went to the one behind this vicious move.


    According to Urag, there were only two people in the Fehl Plane that possessed and mastered the Mark of Pride: Adramelech and Ashera.


    Whoever created the Blood King was likely behind the Fehl Suras. But although Kilian could guess how the two found his link to the Tear, as a Fehl Prince, Adramelech couldn''t affect the Tear from the Fehl Plane.


    The only one with the ability to bestow this gift was¡­


    "Ashera," Kilian whispered, and the name triggered an eerie glint that shimmered in Eleonora''s eyes.

 86 Summoning the Legions Part 1

    "Let me guess, my copycat wants to claim all I have, obliterate the sources of my grievances, then kill me," Kilian rhetorically asked, and Eleonora answered with an approving nod.


    "Exactly. He ordered me to become his wife and claimed he''d destroy the Failed Model within three months. I assume that you made a pact with Ashera to return to the Mortal Plane, and are now trying to weasel your way out of it. She realized it and created the Blood King to ensure she''d get her due," Eleonora said, and Kilian''s shoulders rose in a helpless shrug.


    "Back then, there was no other choice. I have the Eye of Fehl. If I didn''t sign that contract, Ashera would have trapped my soul and exhausted eternity to make me give it up. Even if she didn''t and let me go, I would have found my way in some other fehl''s captivity. Any strategy to offer?" He asked, and ignoring the mention of the Eye, Eleonora pointed at his neck.


    "I''ve seen your Mark of Greed. Fitting for an unfaithful harem builder. Keep developing it, and since he stems from you, you can effortlessly devour the Blood King," she offered. At high levels, the Mark of Greed enabled its owner to snatch back all that somehow belonged to them. As long as his Mark''s level outpaced the Blood King''s, Kilian could consume him.


    "But without the Mastered Mark, you can''t choose what to keep and what to give up. So you''d also take in the Mark of Pride. As Greed is the only one that can hold the remaining six, you''d keep the two. The problem is¡­"


    "That Ashera has the Mastered Mark of Pride. If I take the Blood King''s Mark, she can make me her puppet. So, unless I first master my Greed, that plan doesn''t work, and I will have to destroy him." Kilian finished the words.


    "Easier said than done. He inherited your previous body''s anti-magic and reversal abilities. Although I know that mahanas are not truly immune to magic, with his gene''s level, there is virtually no difference. Even for the average Exarch, defeating him will prove challenging," Eleonora said, worried that having never met the Blood King, Kilian might underestimate the threat. However, his lips curled into a radiant smile.


    "It''s fine. By my side, I have more than Exarchs. But while I deep down hope that he can live long enough for me to devour him, we should remove threats as soon as they arise and never give the opponent room to create damage--unless that''s part of the big picture," Kilian said, and reading through the lines, Eleonora wondered if perhaps, Kilian had already come up with a plan to rid himself of his shackles in one stroke. But as she held his head on her lap, she felt that none of that mattered, and let go of all unnecessary thoughts.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, the Blood King''s greatsword hacked at Urag but, with each strike, failed to reach him.


    "Woohoo!" Like a ballerina, the imp lord twirled out of the way of the sword slashes, poking at the Blood King''s endless pride with his glaring disrespect. From above, Zog''doroth watched the fight play out, but as a Fehl Noble, the daemon dared not intervene in the clash.


    "Your Majesty, do not look down on this jester. While he ranks fairly low in the Lord hierarchy, a Fehl Lord he still is. With the current trend, let''s not mention victory; you can''t even graze his neck," Zog''doroth said in a mental message. Even in the decadent fehl society, Urag became infamous for his relentless dedication to lust, debauchery and cuckolding. Many fehl males didn''t care for his misdeeds. But others accumulated eons of grievances, now eager to devour Urag''s fehl dra to the last bit. Zog''doroth wasn''t part of that lot and would rather not confront a superior.


    "I see," the Blood King whispered, and stopped his onslaught. Seeing this, Urag tilted his head and blinked at the Blood King.


    "What? You finally realized that your sword was too small for a dick fight with me? Want to rush back to momma''s tits? What a disappointing cuck," Urag threw his head back and cackled with laughter. But instead of the expected rage outburst, the Blood King grinned and sank his sword into the ground.


    "The petty snides of an ant cannot disturb a divine monarch. Try as you might, your words hold no sway over my royal self," the Blood King sneered, and closed his eyes. A thick aura of sanguine light coated his form, morphing into tendrils of blood that stretched across 18 meters.


    Realizing that the Blood King''s Pride transcended all insults he could spew, Urag stopped the snark, and stared at his foe with utmost seriousness. While not the brightest tool in the shed, Urag had 30,000 years worth of survival skills, and wrestled with his fair share of cucked enemies. As Kilian requested, he hid in the shadows, not intervening until Lena became completely powerless.


    Thanks to that, Urag witnessed the brief confrontation between Wilfried and the Blood King, enabling him to get hints of his foe''s unused abilities. Raising his right hand, Urag pulled the orb sheltering Lena and Tamara toward him and bolted toward the woods¡ªfeigning a retreat.


    Without opening his eyes, the Blood King swung his sword. With that one stroke, all dra particles around Urag detonated, surrounding the imp lord with waves upon waves of explosions that blew dozens of trees into debris. In synch, the blood tendrils lashed at Urag, moving at twice the speed of sound to whip and shackle him.


    Smirking at the move, Urag stopped his bait retreat, and at Mach 3 speed, vanished to reappear behind before the Blood King.


    The distressing sound of cracking bones rumbled as Urag headbutted the Blood King, sending him hurtling into distant trees¡ªalmost.


    Before the Blood King slammed into the tree trunks, Urag blocked his path, kicked his chin, grabbed his right leg, and slammed him into the ground like a berserk behemoth. However, the Blood King''s mahana gene and Mark of Pride kicked into gear, healing all his wounds as soon as they appeared. Faced with a regeneration speed that put even fehls to shame, Urag hurled the Blood King into the sky and aimed his right hand at him.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Disintegration," the imp lord uttered as he willed four purple pentagrams into existence, and directed his fehl dra to obliterate all particles in the Blood King''s body.


    The expected ringing blast didn''t follow. Instead, the boisterous laughter of the overbearing Blood King rumbled in the Sura Plane''s icy-blue sky.


    "I was chosen by Fate itself to rein in all living things. The will of destiny guides my every move. How could your insignificant magic harm me? Dull-witted, conceited and unredeemable insect, suffer Fate''s Judgment!" The Blood King snarled, and as the Crowned Skull on his neck shimmered, red armor plates covered his body, wrapping him in a blood-red heavy armor shaped like a ravenous demon knight, with red energy wings fit for a fallen angel¡ªthe Blood King, or more precisely, Kilian''s modified Mahana Armor.


    Behind his demon knight helmet, the Blood King sneered at Urag and aimed his left hand toward him.


    Urag''s Fourth Circle Spell''s might surged from the Blood King''s hand, slamming the imp lord with full force. Seeing his own spell returned to his face, Urag frowned. But as grimaces halted no disaster, the spell smashed into him. Clenching his teeth, Urag sank his feet into the ground and resisted the spell''s impact.


    But though in usual days, a Fourth Circle Spell shouldn''t have been able to injure him, Urag still spurted blood. His lips then curled into a maniacal grin."Negation and reversal, a prime mahana. Alright, the info gathering time''s over.


    I, Lord of the 256th Legion, call upon my Fehl Blood to bridge the gap of planes, and summon my liegemen!" Urag proclaimed as his hands moved in eldritch gestures. The ground cracked, the trees swayed, unbridled wind squalls whistled left and right while the dra in the atmosphere flowed in reverse.


    6,666 purple vortices appeared above Urag, and from them, red, demonic heads of various sizes poked out.


    "Fifth Circle Spell: Fehl Legion Summoning!"


    Unleashing the horrible might of his fehl dra, Urag bridged the gap of planes, and hurled his Fehl Legion into the Sura World!

 87 Summoning the Legions Part 2

    The Sura Plane had no limits. From Astral Masters to Hierarchs, all could freely walk it. In primordial times, when fehls and thrones led their legions and choirs into nightmarish wars for the domination of the multiverse, the Sura Plane became the battlefield of their last confrontation. Within a day, three-fourth of the Sura Plane lay in ruins, and realizing that their ancestral war would ultimately obliterate everything besides the Fehl and Throne Planes, for different reasons, Ashera, leader of the Fehls, and Hel, leader of the Thrones¡ªsigned a covenant forbidding additional wars between the two species.


    They strengthened the dimensional barriers, and each left the Sura Plane one gift. Since then, top-ranking fehls, thrones and other hegemonic forces no longer bothered with the Sura Plane¡ªat least not until the rise of the Arcadian Empire, millions of years afterward.


    As the staunchest advocate of "make love not war," Urag never expected that he''d be one of the first to bring Fehl Legions back to the Sura Plane. Still, the foe left him no other choice.


    Behind his glowing red vizor, the Blood King watched thousands of red, horned demonic heads poke out of the 6,666 vortices, and his face twisted into a frown. Fehl military employed a unique Legion System with the Fehl Lords each controlling one to three legions of 6,666 Fehl Nobles, and the Nobles each leading the same number of Daemons. Fehl Lords thus directly commanded millions of troops. And at the head of this system, the Fehl Princes each ruled between 30 and 150 Lords.


    Although he received a Fehl Legion from Ashera, the Blood King was no Lord and couldn''t summon them as he pleased. Urag, however, had no such constraints. If this move passed, dire consequences awaited. The Blood King''s figure blurred, and faster than any Archon could follow, he reappeared before the vortices.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Lust Haze!" Urag uttered, covering the thousands of vortices with a colossal veil of pink fog. Undeterred, the Blood King rushed past the veil, swallowing it all to hurl it back at Urag with a casual hand wave.


    Dra cannons sprouted from the Blood King''s shoulder pads'' forehead, knees and palms, while missile doors surged from all remaining parts of the armor.


    "Stasis," the Blood King said, and the time around the 6,666 vortices came to a halt. However, though unlike the others he maintained his consciousness, the Blood King too couldn''t move an inch.


    But as soon as the Stasis wore off, the booming sound of explosive beams and missile volleys followed, with the Blood King outpacing his foes to unleash the full might of his arsenal. Alas, little did the Blood King expect that Urag had already predicted the move, and with a finger snap, uttered: "Fifth Circle Spell: Greater Teleportation."


    Though halfway through their vortices, the 6,666 Fehl Nobles faded, and re-materialized behind the Blood King.


    "Nuke me this slut!" Ignoring the ear-splitting laughter of his 6,666 Fehl Nobles, Urag ordered an assault. Without delay, the 6,666 aimed their clawed hands at the Blood King.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Fehl Barrage!" Tens of thousands of purple light jets hurtled at the Blood King in succession, leaving him no room to evade. Clenching his fists, the Blood King swung his greatsword at the Fehl Barrage, receiving the brunt of the succeeding explosions with his Mark of Pride instead of his anti-magic.


    Seeing this, Urag sneered.


    "Magic is just shapeshifted dra. Dra is the fundamental energy present in all Arcane Worlds, the driving force behind all our lives. Just like humans can''t live without blood, none of us can exist without dra. A body with total immunity to dra is...a retard''s dream," Urag said, and soared into the air, standing above his legion of horned daemons. Shaped like diminutive imps or breathtaking incubi with long, protruding goat or ram horns, they each wore wolfish grins, and stared at the blood king with ravenous red eyes.


    Listening to Urag''s words, the Blood King realized that he''d underestimated his foe. Indeed, mahanas were not truly immune to magic. Rather, they absorbed spellpower and used a portion of their Dra Reserves to nullify the effects. Some needed 30% of the spell''s Dra Cost, others 20%, 15, 10, and so on. Prime mahanas like the Blood King only needed 1%, and could also return the spell to the caster.


    With his 100,000 dra, the Blood King dared play this game with human Exarchs. However, Urag was a Fehl Lord, with Dra Reserves in the millions. Worse, he now had an army of Fehl Nobles to support his offensive.


    "Yo boss! When did you jailbreak?"


    "I heard that you became some human boy''s lapdog. Please tell us this ain''t real."


    "Bah, shortsighted dotards! Boss, you should have stayed hidden in the Mortal Plane. If Mazdan learns that you''re in the Sura Plane¡­your ass won''t survive."


    The crass words of Urag''s loyal generals boomed from all corners. Unlike most legions, Urag''s 256th legion only pledged allegiance to him. All were either past humans or like-minded fehls handpicked by Urag eons ago to form his Warband of Excess and Debauchery. Together, they brought "salvation" to many worlds, and made an untold number of enemies.


    "Hum, hum! Those are matters for another time. For now, we gotta chain up this bratty twat, and teach him a dishonorable lesson. Blood King, ready your rectum, for the Fehl Plane''s number one mobster band has assembled to smash you into oblivion! Rockstars, gangbang me this slut!"


    Urag ordered, and his 6,666 daemons surrounded the Blood King, ready to drown him in a typhoon of slinging spells. A flurry of Fehl Magic followed, and as Urag expected the Blood King dared not use his anti-magic to challenge them¡ªrelying on his Fallen Armor and Mark of Pride''s resilience and regeneration abilities instead.


    But even those had their limits, and from time to time, the Blood King couldn''t avoid using his anti-magic to resist the more dreadful spells. Knowing that if things carried on this way, he was doomed to exhaust himself, the Blood King sent Zog''doroth a mental message, commanding the daemon to rally his distant troops and bring them to support him.


    But Urag wouldn''t give him that much time. At his immortal army''s back, Urag crossed his arms, causing five pink, swirling pentagrams to appear beside him.


    "Fifth Circle Spell: Lust Idol."


    Pink lightning filled the icy-blue sky, and with the sound of roaring thunder, the golden statue of a faceless, naked beauty dropped from the heavens. Whoever glanced at that faceless woman saw a different figure. For some, a voluptuous female appeared. For others, a bonny lass took shape.


    Surrounded by the 6,666 daemons, the Blood King had neither the time nor leisure to glance at this figure of divine perfection. But the two meters tall statue released an irresistible scent that stretched across 50 square kilometers and overwhelmed the senses of all in the vicinity.


    Anke and Lena, who''d awoken and witnessed the fight from various spots, saw different versions of Kilian. Tamara saw her dead brother; the daemons saw Ashera, and Eleonora appeared before the Blood King.


    Urag aside, all were drawn to and lost in the most perfect representation of who they craved most. The mightiest of Urag''s Fifth Circle Spells, Lust Idol cost 800,000 dra, an unimaginable amount for a human Exarch. But as he summoned his anti-magic to nullify the spell, the Blood King made two mistakes.


    First, he didn''t realize that something greater than traditional magic was at play. Second, he hurled his overflowing lust for Eleonora at Urag. The imp lord stretched out his hands, siphoning the Lust Essence of his 6,666 daemons, and all living things across those 50 square kilometers.


    "Woohoo! I can feel it I can feel it I can feeeeel iiiit!" Urag broke into a frenzied laughter, and at his back, the mark of a scarlet apple pierced by a pink arrow appeared, glittering with Sin Magic.


    "Lust Overload!" The words had just left Urag''s lips that a hurricane of pink light and swirling winds formed around him, rotating like a maelstrom fit for the end of times. In the vortex, Urag went from his human dwarf to his imp daemon form. But the transformation didn''t end here. The fehl''s sizable muscles bulged further, while his height increased to a full two meters.


    The pair of horns on his forehead arched up and rose to one meter, while his hands and feet''s claws reached an adult arm''s length. Stepping out of the vortex, Urag emerged not as a grotesque imp, but as a breathtaking incubus whose presence filled the dauntless Blood King with a surge of apprehension.


    Moving at hypersonic speed, Urag hurtled at the Blood King and raked his claws at his neck. By the time Urag reappeared behind the Blood King, his armored head no longer stood on his shoulders¡ªnow soaring into the sky.


    No blood followed. Upper and lower body parts demolecularized, reforming several meters away.


    Behind his vizor, the Blood King broke into a cold sweat.


    "Is Zog''doroth trying to scam me out of my life? If this is a low-ranking Fehl Lord, what is the top?" He inwardly cursed, and while reason told him that he should turn and run, the hubris animating him prevented all retreat.


    "I initially didn''t want to reveal this before meeting the Failed Model, but now, I don''t have a choice."


    The Blood King stretched out his hands, red lightning cracked around his armored form, and two Philosopher''s Stones appeared in his palms. Channeling them, the Blood King vanished in a column of red lightning, and turned into a scarlet aircraft shaped like a winged, wheel-less veyron.


    Each Philosopher''s Stone contained over one million dra, fueling the Blood King''s cannons with enough destructive power to challenge Arcadia''s top Exarchs. However, Urag could see that unlike Kilian, the Blood King had very little control over the Philosopher''s Stones, and had just turned into a glass cannon.


    Knowing that he couldn''t protect the girls from the incoming clash''s residual explosions, Urag snapped his fingers, sending Lena and Tamara out of harm''s way.


    The Blood King turned into a red meteor, racing into Urag with eight Dra Cannons bared and ready to erupt. But as he neared his foe, an eerie scene occurred¡ªand the Blood King stopped mid-air¡ªneither advancing nor retreating.


    Within the aircraft, the Blood King screamed in grief.


    "Slut! Slut! Opportunistic slut! I should have killed you first!" He roared while a banshee-shaped Anke fused with his aircraft form, and interrupted all motions.


    "You did," Anke coolly replied.


    Just the split of a second, but Urag didn''t let the Anke-given opportunity pass and rammed into the Blood King.


    The aircraft burst into smithereens, but by sacrificing one Philosopher''s Stone, the Blood King avoided fatality.


    At that time, Zog''doroth returned with his fellow legionaries. All charged into battle, forcing their way through Urag''s lust-weakened forces to snatch the Blood King and escape the battlefield.

 88 Everything Part 1

    "Dang," Urag muttered as the Blood King''s Fehl Legion covered his escape. As expected of the self-proclaimed Mogul of Excess and Debauchery, Urag carried the Mark of Lust on his back. The Lust Overload skill he just used relied on it. But since he still stood far from mastering his Lust, Urag couldn''t maintain the form for over one minute. Afterward, he''d go into Lust Withdrawal and lose 90% of his strength.


    Breaking through the Blood King''s defense lines to take his life needed more than one minute. Once exposed, grim consequences would follow, so Urag had no choice but to watch the Blood King escape. Still, by destroying one of his Philosopher''s Stones and forcing him into retreat, Urag dealt the Blood King severe wounds. As a Sin of Pride, he was doomed to agonize.


    By the time Urag made his choice, the Blood King''s Legion had vanished from the forest''s sky and retreated to their headquarter. In the area where the explosion took place, a pale-blue, wraithlike version of Anke hovered. With a smirk of satisfaction, she shrank into a palm-sized blue orb and flew back into her inert body.


    For the typical human, the soul was an immaterial storage place for experiences, Dra Roots and Elemental Crystals. Upon their owner''s death, white and light-gray souls left for the Aether Plane while black and dark-gray souls dove into the Nether Plane. Besides the souls that inhabited them and the magical energies they held, there was absolutely no difference between Aether and Nether Planes. No reward, no judgment, just cleansing and reincarnation.


    Souls traditionally had no offensive abilities of their own. But because of her mutation, Anke''s soul had turned into a Fehl Banshee, enabling her to not only use her vocal chords as weapons, but expel the banshee soul to possess or ruin her foes. Still, if not for the Blood King leaving himself vulnerable, Anke wouldn''t have been able to affect him¡ªeven for that split of a second.


    But as Urag stared at Anke''s stirring form, his eyes narrowed, and with a step, he appeared before her.


    "Weird...why aren''t you cray cray?" Urag asked with his usual tact. Better than most, he could see that Anke''s mutation stage had already fallen into Beast category. When her banshee soul became one with her body, she''d ascend to the Fehl Plane and become a daemoness. But to reach such a mutation stage, she should have long turned into a walking abomination singing lethal lullabies and sowing destruction wherever she went. Obviously, that wasn''t the case.


    From beginning to end, she remained alert and logical¡ªonly briefly losing herself at the Blood King''s arrival. Unless she received a serum akin to Kilian''s or had the backing of some mighty fehl entity, that made little sense.


    "From what I heard, I had an episode and forced my uncle to use his unique magical abilities to recalibrate my mind. At first, he planned to erase all the fehl madness. But when that proved impossible, he redirected it all at the source. Unless confronted with it, I can remain mostly sane,"


    "Your uncle is a throne?"


    "I don''t even know what that is."


    "My bad. What''s your relationship with the Blood King?"


    "No relationship. He just wears the face of my ex-fianc¨¦."


    "Then why did you help me?"


    "I want to strangle my ex, but he''s dead, so I just take it out on those related to him."


    "Ha, typical."


    Anke straightforwardly answered all of Urag''s inquiries, and following the exchange, the imp lord pursed his lips¡ªshaking his head at the deranged lady''s words.


    "You''re very honest for a bitter banshee."


    "I don''t know if you or the 6,666 daemons at your back can read minds, and would rather not gamble with my life until I resurrect and punish Kilian," Anke said, but this time, a pause settled in, with Urag blinking at the deranged lady with his large, beady eyes.


    "Wait, wait, what Kilian exactly?"


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Kilian stepped into the nearby Sura Tribe. From Eleonora, he learned that all rivers and lakes in the Sura Plane had been corrupted by high-level Fehl Magic¡ªwith prolonged consumption dooming the drinkers to a unique form of Fehl Taint. Tailored to suras, this taint didn''t affect humans or other species.


    "Over the past ten years, the Sura Queen prayed all deities she knew of to save her race. And around the time of the Blood King''s birth, a top-ranking fehl answered her prayers. Most suras don''t know who that fehl is, but now my bet is on Ashera.


    Ashera granted the Sura Queen and tens of thousands of willing suras her blood, twisting them into the Fehl Suras we now confront. The majority of suras, however, refused the gift, so the Sura Queen asked Ashera to taint the lakes and rivers, forcing those suras that drank from them to join her ranks," Eleonora explained. While suras possessed eternal life, without a regular intake of their Divine Water, their Dra Reserves gradually shrank.


    Fehls, thrones, chiropterans, suras, all immortal species had one weakness in common. Once their Dra Reserves reached zero, they collapsed into nothingness. For the first three, that rarely became an issue. Suras, however, had shallow Dra Reserves, and heavily relied on their Divine Water for survival.


    By asking Ashera to taint it, the Sura Queen effectively left the resistance with no way out. Faced with either death or surrender, thousands chose surrender. But alienated by the Fehl Suras, many more persisted, rejecting the foul fehl deities to die for their beliefs. Those suras were now the prey of both the human invaders and the bellicose Fehl Suras.


    But as he stepped into the glade, Kilian felt that many points were far too convenient. As if for thousands of years, the Sura Plane was being shoved into this one gulf, and forced to take shelter under the fehl banner. But then, between Adramelech who set the events into motion, and Ashera who ended them, who truly pulled the strings?


    The answer wouldn''t come today. At the entrance of the tribe''s forest glade, about 400 suras assembled¡ªmostly adults¡ªall wielding makeshift wooden weapons that wouldn''t even fit the bill in medieval Earth.


    But while he typically showed no empathy for hostile parties, as he glanced at the gathered suras, Kilian''s heart skipped a beat.


    Unlike the traditional suras'' shimmering silver wings, those suras'' possessed a dull-gray color and slouched as if ready to fall at any time. Thick wrinkles stretched the faces of the adults and few kids that faced Kilian''s trio, and their skin had atrophied to the point that ribs and bones poked out.


    Four-hundred skeletons with thin sheets of dark-gray skin faced Kilian with their large, bloodshot eyes trembling in fear.


    "W-we d-don''t have anything t-to offer you. P-please spare us," one senior sura begged, with barely enough strength to speak the words. At a glance, Kilian could see that unless they surrendered to the Sura Queen and drank the tainted water, those suras wouldn''t survive another three days.


    And while he stared at them, Eleonora stared at him, wondering what choice he''d make.

 89 Everything Part 2

    "You always have a choice, only if you''re prepared to lose." These words of Kilian applied oddly well in this case. By rejecting the Sura Queen''s path, by letting go of this Ashera-granted Fehl Taint, these 400 chose defeat. Were the roles reversed, Kilian would never make such a choice.


    After all, moral and nature aside, what did they stand to lose? Said bluntly, the gains far outweighed the losses. Yes, if the roles were reversed, Kilian would probably make the same choice as the Sura Queen, and strive for this one opportunity to fight back. But as he swept the 400, Kilian realized that those suras'' choice didn''t stem from false bravado.


    They did fear death, they did fear the pain, the anguish and all the nightmarish consequences that awaited them. However, they feared one thing above all else: the loss of their identity.


    Across those millennia, the right to cling onto their culture, nature and ancestral beliefs was the only thing that none could take from them. The resisting suras knew that once they followed their queen, regardless of the war''s outcome, sura identity was doomed. Suras would become fehls, the Sura Plane a sub-Fehl Plane, the trees, glades and forests would crumble, replaced by towering castles, luxurious mansions, and monuments meant to glorify the new leaders. Out of shame of their humiliating past, the new leaders would quickly erase all records of their ancestors¡ªending what remained of their own ethnicity.


    However, though he could empathize with them, Mark of Greed or not, Kilian had one rule he''d never break: to fight for those willing to fight.


    His gaze hardened, and he aimed his right hand at the 400 suras. A bang akin to a gunshot followed, and their makeshift weapons burst into dust powder.


    "No need to bare those at me. I''m not here to fight. If I were, you''d be dead already," Kilian said, and ambled toward the trembling suras.


    "I''m here to wake you all up. What you''re doing is blind stubbornness. Unless you surrender to your queen, you will die within three days. Most of you will watch your few children starve to death first¡ªthen follow them into oblivion. As we speak, all those that rejected the Sura Queen are facing the same choice, and have the same timeframe to choose their end.


    Either you surrender, or vanish. Regardless, there will be no true sura left in three days. You will fall like pests, accomplishing nothing." Kilian''s words were like sharp blades, piercing and twisting in the suras'' hearts. Although they didn''t want to accept this truth, he was right. The Sura Queen''s extreme move made their resistance futile. All they could do was to die stubborn.


    However, dying is simple. But watching loved ones fall one after the other? Now that''s a lot more challenging. Stopping one meter away from the 400, Kilian crossed his arms behind his back, and stared into their leader''s eyes.


    "But I can give you an alternative. You say you have nothing to offer me, but I disagree. Although you don''t possess offensive spells, thrones aside, you suras are the most gifted in Formation and Ritual Magic. With those skills, you could even help the Prime Lord defeat the Night Master. How is that nothing?" Kilian rhetorically asked, using the words and broken memories of his Fehl Sura victims to build his case.


    "I just want one thing from you: everything. Pledge your lives and souls to me. Surrender the principles and Arcana of your Sura Magic, and I pledge to carve out a future where you can remain whom you wish to be.


    I will not compromise you. I will not pervert you. But in the battles to come, I may put some of your lives at risk. If you''re willing to accept this contract¡ª" taking a pause, Kilian snapped his fingers, making a five meters tall green rectangular stele appear before the suras. On that stele, the details of the contract unfolded.


    "Sign in your blood," Kilian offered, and instantly, the 400 suras'' arms dropped as their eyes widened at his words. Never did they expect that so close to the fatal deadline, another entity would give them a third option. However, the initial rush of glee was soon replaced by wariness, and the elder suras'' gaze narrowed at Kilian.


    "Sir, from what we can see, you''re either human or some shapeshifting creature. Which one is it?


    We can give you what you ask for. But we must first find out who we''re dealing with, and what type of contract we''re signing. What if we''re now surrounded by an illusion and led to sign the complete opposite of what you promise? How do we know that..." the elder rattled off.


    After Adramelech''s incursion, suras learned one thing they initially didn''t possess: suspicion. The elders¡ªespecially¡ªno longer took words at face value, and sought deceit in every pledge. But as the leader attempted a probe, Kilian raised his hand and cut:


    "I will not try to comfort your fears. If you believe in me, sign. If you don''t, refuse. Trust is the foundation of all bonds. Master-servant pledges are no different. If you must seek all possible pitfalls in my offer, this contract is meaningless," Kilian said, and at his back, Eleonora''s lips into a smile.


    The past Kilian would have praised the Suras for seeking all pitfalls. But the current one realized that in this unique case, he had to give them back what they lost: faith.


    If they held no faith in him, if the only thing binding them was the Mark of Greed¡ªshould he one day lose it, an unpredictable future awaited. By laying out the pros and cons, by clearly stating his stance, Kilian painted a beguiling picture in the hesitating suras'' eyes. And though they seemed to flounder at his words, after a brief discussion, the 400 formed three lines before the stele, and one after the other, signed their names in blood.


    Green light surged at the glade''s entrance, sweeping Kilian and his 400 new followers to mark the covenant. But though he let nothing transpire on his face, Kilian felt a mild rush of satisfaction swell in his heart.


    "Since you''ve chosen to follow me, I will not let you down," he proclaimed, easing the lingering apprehensions of the 400. In tandem, they dropped on their knees and bowed in submission¡ªmaking Kilian the first foreign Sura King.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, within Kars'' ducal palace, Klaus hovered in a golden crystal, with his convalescence reaching an end. His eyes opened, no longer sapphire, but pure gold¡ªthe crystal then burst into light particles.


    Wilfried''s death, registered by Klaus'' hypercomputers, was transferred to his mind¡ªenabling the duke to witness all his most loyal servant felt and saw before his fall.


    "Wilfried, more than anyone else, you believed in me. But ultimately, I still failed you¡ªas I always do.


    Across these two tedious lives, father aside, no one held onto me as much as you did. I hoped that I could at least let you see the future we all wrestle for. Who could think that you''d fall before me?


    I''ve let my wife down.


    I''ve let my son down.


    I''ve let Kilian down.


    I''ve let you down.


    But Wilfried, I will not let the world down.


    Friend, you can rest in peace. The Gate will soon open, and regardless of the cost, I shall use the Altar of Eternity to bring an end to this world''s chaos," Klaus pledged as two teardrops streaked down his cheeks.


    Having poured a massive quantity of dra into Kilian''s Eye of Fehl, Klaus knew that he''d very likely return. Better, he hoped that he would. And though he didn''t anticipate the Blood King''s appearance, thanks to him and Wilfried''s memories, Klaus figured out where Kilian currently was¡ªand his new identity.


    "Kilian, work hard. For all those petty foes are nothing before what I have in stores for you."


    With a wave of his hand, Klaus tore open a portal toward the Sura Plane, and sent a detachment of 300 Crystal Lords, reinforced by blood drops from his Throne Heart, to rescue and support Anke.

 90 Six-Hundred Revolutions Dra Reactor

    While bloody warfare and mayhem took over the Sura Plane, unsettling events prevented Arcadia''s return to peace. Once the students and professors left for the Sura Plane, the emperor ordered an NK-97 strike on the Imperial Academy, obliterating the island alongside the 3,000 enemy fighters that surrounded it with an irresistible neutron laser. Thus, following over 2,000 years of existence, the Imperial Academy was reduced to nothing.


    The news left most high-ranking aristocrats livid. With no warning from the imperial family or news of their children, many assumed the worst, believing that to save itself, the empire didn''t hesitate to sacrifice their most valued descendants. Incensed, several nobles gathered to demand answers from the imperial family, but emergency missives from the Grand Duke of Rulweil stopped them all.


    "The imperial family is disappointed by the lack of rebellious aristocrats and hopes that many more will throw themselves into their hands. Are you that eager to see your ancestral lands stripped and your houses erased? Your children are safe." As the only non-von-Skoll-Exarch and de facto leader of the aristocracy, Alaric von Rulweil''s words carried tremendous weight and instantly put an end to the bellicose nobles'' fury.


    In the meantime, within the imperial city''s Technomancy Department, Marcel and Niklas stood in a laboratory of long chalky walls, both staring at a circular platform warded by transparent barriers. A cold-blue light column surged from the circular platform''s center, and from it popped up a five meters tall gray tube.


    Bright, misty dra filled the cylindrical shell, revolving at a pace of 600 spins per second. Faced with the tube, Niklas and Marcel both smiled, a rare occurrence in their 160 years of father-son relationship.


    "Those technocrats really take us for fools. Did they think we wouldn''t take extra measures to ensure the reactor''s safety?" Niklas scoffed. Although the destruction of the Imperial Academy left a bitter taste in the imperial family''s mouths, as long as they still held on to its Dra Reactor, the rest was negligible.


    Arcadia''s Dra Reactors were hierarchized by Dra Revolution Speed. The more spin per second, the more power the reactor could provide. The average Dra Reactors, those that powered county-level cities, achieved around 52 revolutions per second. The marquisate-level Dra Reactors hovered at 68, and even the average imperial duke''s Dra Reactors couldn''t surpass 90 revolutions per second.


    Kars'' main Dra Reactor reached 300, and with it, Klaus could control the city''s climate, fuel his myriad of power armors and zurishells, and maintain Kars'' idyllic scenery. But the imperial family alone owned two 600 Revolutions Dra Reactors, one powering the Imperial City, and the other hiding in the Imperial Academy.


    With those two reactors, the von Skolls controlled all travel beyond the Mortal Plane. Since only Exarchs could achieve Plane Walking, whoever wished to leave or return to the Mortal Plane had to rely on the Imperial Family''s good graces. And if they wished to, the von Skolls could even use their reactors to leave the gates to foreign planes permanently open.


    Those two reactors were, undeniably, the most celebrated creations of the past Technocracy. Unfortunately, they couldn''t create weapons able to release the reactors'' full destructive potential. Otherwise, the von Skolls would have long-since obliterated their three ancestral enemies.


    "We should remain on our guards. Clearly, the Imperial Academy''s Dra Reactor was the Technocracy''s true target. How could they not prepare some backup p--" Marcel began. But before his words ended, a disturbing sight interrupted his speech.


    The tube vanished, gone without even a poof, making the current and previous emperors'' jaws drop, with their eyes almost popping out of their sockets.


    "Just like that? Didn''t you claim that regardless of the tricks the technocrats used, we could bring the reactor back at will and protect it from their hands? Why is it gone?" Niklas asked while pointing his wobbling hand at the empty platform.


    To ensure the Imperial Academy''s leaders couldn''t use the Dra Reactor to rebel, the past emperors only enabled them to use it for Plane Walking, keeping other options under a firm lockdown. And if unforeseen circumstances still arose, the emperors could summon the reactor back to the Imperial City.


    However, to say nothing of bringing it back. Neither Marcel nor Niklas could locate the reactor''s current position.


    "Don''t be rude. We still have the four tributary kingdoms. Even if the technocrats summoned deities, we can destroy them in a heartbeat. Though, once we''re forced to use that move, we won''t be able to take the Chiropteran Dynasty, Undying Horde and Wailing Sea by surprise," regaining his composure, Marcel coolly replied. But the words brought Niklas no comfort, and his gaze hardened.


    "The four tributary kingdoms are the sacrificial lambs we''ve been preparing for 3,000 years. To ensure a foolproof plan, we even got rid of the eldars. We did all this, so we could exterminate those three foreign threats once and for all. Now you''re telling me that we may have to use the Grand Circle on a trivial Technocracy? Old man, who kicked your brain?" Niklas clenched his trembling fists, resisting the urge to punch a hole in Marcel''s face.


    Ignoring him, the previous emperor closed his eyes. For the chiropterans, humans were cattle. For the undead, they were recruits. As for the leviathans of the Wailing Sea, they saw humans as a threat needing swift extermination. If not for the Peace Barrier, no one could estimate what Arcadia would currently look like.


    Any one of those three was a more significant problem than the Technocracy. Though Niklas'' words weren''t pleasant to the ears, he was right. They could absolutely not reveal their ace before the next World War. And considering the price Niklas'' line paid for the eldars'' slaughter, Marcel didn''t doubt that should they waste the Grand Circle, Niklas would be the first to nuke him.


    "That being the case, it''s time we force the Queen of Nargoz to renew the Blood Covenant, break the Peace Barrier, and lure the Chiropteran Dynasty back to Arcadia. Once they attack, the other two will follow. The Technocrats want to rule, not destroy Arcadia. If only for the big picture, they will have to go all out, and we can erase them all in one stroke," Marcel offered, and agreeing with the words, Niklas contacted the Cleansing Wind, the Grand Order responsible for Nargoz''s supervision, and had its Grand Master depart for the Blood Court.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, in a camp established by the Technocracy west of the Sura Plane, Esther the Chair of Technomancy, and Bjorn the Junior Senator of the Mahana Department, welcomed the 600 Revolutions Dra Reactor.


    "Congratulations, Junior Leader. With this reactor, we now have all the ingredients to bind Arcadia to the Dream and Nightmare Planes. I can guarantee that in a week, the Arch Senate can snatch the two planes'' magic, and enthrall our homeworld. How does it feel to be the one that doomed billions to eternal servitude?" Esther asked in a half-serious, half-jesting tone.

 91 I Can Not Go Mad With You

    Silent to Esther''s snide, Bjorn kept his eyes glued on the Dra Reactor. His mind, though, drifted. Half present, half distant, reminiscing the incidents that led him to this point. One event resurfaced, the time, three years ago, when Lena firmly established her position among Ostria''s slum gangs.


    On that day, Lukas, Bjorn, Tamara and Lena gathered in a humble house to celebrate. And for the first time in many years, they had no argument. Lukas and Bjorn cooked, while Lena instructed Tamara on how to become a domineering woman. The meal ready, they spurned tables and chairs to sit on the cold ground, warmed by the bonds they shared.


    As usual, Tamara clung too hard on Lukas. But on that night, no one commented. They laughed, sang and danced like the merry men of old tales, and pledged to always have one another''s back.


    But now Lukas was dead. Lena gave up her overbearing ways to become his replacement''s loyal servant, and the gentle Tamara instead turned into a wrath-hound. As for him, Bjorn, he awoke the highest grade of mahana gene and received the Technocracy''s full training. Prime mahana, junior senator, heaps of glory that failed to fill the gaping void in his heart.


    Revenge, devotion. Regardless of the source or means, both Tamara and Lena got new purposes and redefined their lives while he wore a mask, and alone mourned his friend¡ªhis brother¡ªin his sundered heart. Perhaps in a decade, only he would remember the name Lukas, drink to his memory, and weep at his tragic fall. After all, the world had no shortage of Lukas. But most didn''t even know of their existence.


    Still ignoring Esther, Bjorn pivoted on the right and swept his camp. Over 50 students of the academy lay in chains, some gutted, others awaiting their funerals. The technocrats could now steal their identities to deceive their friends or infiltrate their houses. Initially, Bjorn thought that the sight of highborns cowering in chains would make him sneer. It didn''t. Rather, they bored him.


    His eyes stopped on a slender beauty with black and silver hair, the only one of the lot that remained composed.


    "Isn''t she your daughter?" Bjorn asked Esther while his blue eyes met Carmen''s silver hues. High-ranking Technocrats'' children typically belonged to the Technocracy. Cases like Esther and Carmen, where the mother held a senator rank, but the daughter played for the enemy team, were unheard of.


    "Yes, but she''s too stubborn and can''t see the big picture. For her own sake, I need to discipline her," Esther replied in a slightly distant tone. Sneering at the words, Carmen lowered her gaze and shook her head. While in her infant days, her father used to scare her with frightful tales of parents putting their children in chains and trapping them in dungeons, she never thought the tales would one day become a reality.


    The disappointment hidden in her downcast eyes didn''t escape Bjorn, but his attention shifted back to Esther.


    "What is the big picture? Enforcing the Technocracy''s dominion over Arcadia at all cost?" Bjorn asked in an oddly serious tone.


    "Naturally. The empire is rotten to the core. So long as the von Skoll dynasty stands, commoners like you, or slaves like my poor mother, will never find peace. The Neo Technocracy''s five divisions were established to put an end to our world''s mayhem, and return equality to all.


    Under the leadership of the Arch Senate, Arcadia will become a paradise where the meritorious are rewarded by dreams and the corrupt cursed by nightmares. If necessary, we can rewire them all. Although we''re de facto enslaving the world through Global Dream and Nightmare Manipulation, isn''t this little evil necessary for the greater good?" Esther arched one eyebrow, and asked back.


    Having heard such words at least 1,000 times since his arrival in the Technocracy, Bjorn no longer found them surprising.


    "They trade one evil for another and call it justice¡ªaim to strip billions of free will but call it salvation. And now, even this foreign world was turned into a battlefield to satisfy their goals. Despots on one hand, hypocrites on the other," Bjorn sighed, and aimed his left hand at the Dra Reactor.


    "Integration," he whispered, white light flashed in his hand, and the reactor shrank to thumbnail size before flying into his palm¡ªvanishing within. Instantly, frowns twisted the faces of Esther and the 12 armored technocrats on the scene. On top of the average mahana''s abilities, prime mahanas possessed unique, innate skills. The Blood King, who inherited the characteristics of Kilian''s previous body, could use Magic Reversal.


    Bjorn, however, could fuse items with his body to rob their abilities and strengthen himself. Never did the Technocrats expect that, a step away from success, their Junior Senator would snatch the reactor from their hands. But as their chests swelled with rage, Bjorn''s Dra Reserves increased at a frightening pace, and alongside them, his martial abilities skyrocketed.


    "Junior Senator, are you rebelling?" Esther''s voice chilled, and activating the nanochip hidden in her earlobe, she contacted all the technocrats across the Sura Plane to warn them of Bjorn''s betrayal.


    "Wrong. From the start, it was clear to me that psychopaths led the Technocracy. You''ve all gone mad, and I cannot follow you into insanity. I just waited for my chance to make things right.


    Thank you for using the Space Grafter to bring me this power source. I am now free to follow my heart. The world still needs someone to swing the sword of righteousness. And if no one else will, I shall," Bjorn declared, blinding light coated his form, and as his blond dreadlocks swayed at his back, a golden power armor covered his body.


    Anticipating Esther''s orders, the 12 technocrats lunged at Bjorn, but with a casual punch, he released mighty shock waves that obliterated their power armors, and sent them crashing in the distance.


    Though she didn''t take the brunt of the blow, Esther''s bones cracked, her internal organs suffered serious damages and she collapsed on the ground.


    Spinning toward the captives, Bjorn threw another punch, breaking their chains with another stream of shock waves. But too awed to move, the trapped nobles failed to react.


    Carmen''s awestruck eyes rose to Bjorn''s vizor, and disregarding the rest, he stepped toward her.


    "I won''t beat around the bush. According to the Technocracy''s data, the Sura Plane hides a mighty relic left by a top-ranking fehl. With it, I will have solid chances to resist both the Arcadian Empire and the Technocracy. But to use the relic''s full potential, I need a state''s resources. If you''re willing to help me, after I obtain it and rid Orloth of the von Karsten Duke, I can share the relic''s powers with you." Bjorn said.


    Intrigued by the words, Carmen squinted her eyes at him and asked, "Even if I refuse to help you, you will still challenge von Karsten?"


    "I will not bargain with the common man''s life. Although the von Karsten Duke is a controversial figure, his true identity guarantees that he can''t serve Orloth''s best interests. Also, I can not trust the lives of 160 millions with someone that doesn''t blink before executing his children," Bjorn said, and Carmen nodded in approval.


    "Well said. I accept this partnership. If we can leave the Sura Plane alive, I will convince my father and uncles to assist you fully," Carmen seriously replied, now believing that only Bjorn could save the Arcadian continent. But as the two departed in a white shaft of light, Esther leisurely rose from the ground.


    In one breath, her internal wounds healed, and her silver eyes shone in a mysterious purple light.


    "The game now begins."


    ¡­


    Across the Sura Plane, battles intensified. Tristan and Estrella blew their technocrat enemies into nuclear waste but fell prey to ambushes of Fehl Suras. Ayden rescued them, and together, the trio forced their way back to Hanns'' side.


    The von Skolls soon regrouped all their forces to fight back against their old and new enemies.


    Meanwhile, as those bitter battles raged, Kilian faced the corrupted lake that served his sura tribe, and channeled his Philosopher Stone for the greatest Transmutation task of his life.

 92 Stop, Stop! Im Evil!

    The sura''s lake and river taints stemmed from a fehl hex from Ashera that twisted the Divine Water''s original dra. Since hexes were magic and relied on dra, Kilian reasoned that as long as he could dispose of Ashera''s foreign dra, he could solve the lake''s problem.


    ---[Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Half Fehl]


    [Age: 19]


    [Magus Rank: top-level High Emissary]


    [Battle Prowess: top-level Fehl Noble]


    [Dra Reserves: 47,280]


    [Knowledge Points: 145,072?]


    [Implants: Interlaced Chip Structure\u003c\u003eLv. 2 Cyberkinesis Chip\u003c\u003eLv. 3 Anti-Fehl Chip\u003c\u003eLv. 3 Anti-Trauma Chip]


    [Mutations: Stage II Eye of Fehl, Fehl Heart]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation, Gift of Adramelech]


    [Arcane Bloodline: Atomkinesis]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 4 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 4 Transmutation]---


    From the 300 Fehl Suras'' destruction, Kilian harvested 207,000 kp. With 3,000, he purchased the parts and blueprints for a Lv. 2 Interlaced Chip Structure, and with 60,000, did the same for a Lv. 3 Anti-Fehl Chip and a Lv. 3 Anti-Trauma Chip¡ªbringing his kp count down to 145,072?. The Anti-Fehl Chip enabled Kilian to fry all foreign, fehl dra particles in his body, while with the Anti-Trauma Chip, his brain would not register any damage caused to the outside or inside. Combining those two chips with his Transmutation abilities, Atmokinesis and Philosopher''s Stone, Kilian had full confidence in erasing Ashera''s taint.


    "Grasp of Avarice: Grand Larceny." Stretching out his hands toward the lake, Kilian triggered his Mark of Greed, unleashing tendrils of green light that plunged into the lake and siphoned it to the last drop. Shredded to atomic particles, hundreds of thousands of liters poured into Kilian''s body, and though his Anti-Trauma Chip enabled him to ignore the impact, Kilian''s Fehl Heart kicked into gear, protecting itself from the internal typhoon''s reach.


    Shutting his eyes close, Kilian pushed his brain to maximum focus. Purple light lines expanded from his heart, binding to and crushing the fehl dra contained in the foreign particles. Again, Kilian''s brain didn''t register the move''s consequences. Fortunately, he now possessed a Fehl Heart. Otherwise, he could forfeit his life.


    Opening his amber eyes, Kilian activated his Philosopher''s Stone. Red lightning arcs flashed around his form, and with a thunderclap, he expelled the lake''s foreign particles from his body. Though Inyoka and the 400 bystanding Suras couldn''t see it, Eleonora witnessed the myriad of dra particles soar into the icy-blue sky¡ªweaved by Kilian''s arcane gestures to coalesce into a translucent whirlpool.


    Their lake''s disappearance and the whirlpool''s subsequent rise were the only two feats the starving suras witnessed before Kilian slammed his fists together. Another thunderclap resounded, and the whirlpool crumbled into a torrential rain to fill the trenches left by the lake''s absorption. Pulling in a deep breath, Kilian regulated his dra circulation and wasn''t startled to feel his Fehl Heart beating at a much faster pace than usual¡ªas if threatening to burst into 10,000 pieces.


    The Anti-Trauma Chip was a convenient but double-edged tool. As humans needed their brain to warn them of hazards, wounds and potentially lethal conditions¡ªon a normal human¡ªsuch a tool would bring more harm than good. Fortunately for Kilian, it''d been a while since he''d given up on his humanity.


    Casting a sidelong glance at the suras, Kilian beckoned at them with his left hand, and driven by both curiosity and their contract, they walked toward the new lake.


    "I considered changing the taste, but reckoned you''d prefer it this way. Enjoy," he said, before the 400 wetted their hands in the lake, sampling their new Divine Water. With that one taste, their lips stretched into broad grins, and as if prompted by an irresistible impulse, they dove right into the lake. Adults and children alike swallowed as much as their stomachs could endure, filling themselves to the brim and splattering one another in a show of delight and excess.


    "Haha! It''s back! It''s truly back!" Throaty laughs rang alongside the sound of splashing water as the 400 indulged in this Kilian-granted dish. And as the Divine Water''s effects kicked in, the suras'' bony structure swelled, with fat and meat filling sunken cheeks, chests, arms, thighs and legs. Their butterfly-like pairs of wings regained the lost silver sheen. The men became strikingly handsome, while the females exhibited a fairy-like beauty, with small but well-proportioned assets. And while the average adult''s height hovered at 1.6 meters for the males, and 1.56 for the females, it only enhanced their charm.


    Seeing the 400 revel in the Divine Water, Kilian had to prevent his smirk from turning into a broad grin.


    "Wouldn''t this be your first, relatively selfless good deed?" Eleonora asked with a provocative smile while the Mark of Greed munched Ashera''s residual fehl dra.


    "Nonsense. My gains far outweigh my losses. Best proof is, the Mark is Satisfied," Kilian turned to avoid Eleonora''s anti-deceit gaze, and replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. Unconvinced, Eleonora arched one eyebrow, and sought Kilian''s evasive eyes.


    "That doesn''t change the fact that you did this out of the goodness of your heart. Tell me, how difficult was it to find a contract that satisfied your Greed?" She asked in a rare teasing tone, and faced with the bare truth, Kilian floundered.


    "You¡ªthis is just business! Stop twisting the facts!"


    "Alright, alright. You are a paragon of evil. The master of plots and schemes, without an ounce of kindness in you¡ªa totally unredeemable demon prince. Satisfied?" Eleonora bit her lower lip to restrain a chuckle and said to appease Kilian''s wounded ego. With a smug look, Kilian gave a graceful, approving nod, and switched his attention back on the suras¡ªunaware that at his back, Eleonora gleefully laughed.


    Or maybe he knew but didn''t care. In the meantime, the suras snapped out of their trance-like state, and rushed out of the lake to kneel at Kilian''s feet.


    "Thank you, master, for this life-saving grace!" They said in tandem, nearly making Kilian puke blood.


    "How is this a life-saving grace? Obviously we made a contract! A contract in my favor! You gave me your souls, the keys to your arts! This is a deal! A deal! Why are you acting as if I''m some kind of righteous motherfucker? I''m evil! Evil! Stop ruining my image!" Kilian inwardly squealed and sobbed with warm tears. Believing that their recovery overwhelmed him with emotions, the suras sobbed alongside him.

 93 Haldirs Demagoria

    "Hum, hum. Enough, enough. Though you''re temporarily out of danger, the situation is far from safe. Three million suras inhabit this world, and from what I''ve seen in your memories, 25% have already pledged themselves to the Sura Queen. Driven by fear or starvation, many more can compromise. Tonight, tomorrow, the day after¡ªwithin three days¡ªthey will either bolster the Fehl Queen''s ranks or perish. Neither are acceptable options," Kilian said, bringing the prostrated suras back to the matter at hand.


    Filled with a sense of gravity, they raised their eyes at Kilian, awaiting his directives.


    "I want you to celebrate your survival with King Haldir''s Demagoria. Through this festival, you can connect to all the suras across this land, and tell them about their new option. For those willing, activate the Tribal Teleportation Circles, and have them directly warp here. I believe that across the next three days, at least 60% will join our ranks." In Sura tongue, a demagoria was a festival held every 100 years to celebrate a specific historical figure.


    Haldir was the last Sura King in the plane''s recorded history, remembered for sacrificing his life to convince the mightiest Seven-Wheels Throne, Hel, to put an end to the Throne-Fehl war. Although thrones were an aloof, passionless race, Haldir''s sacrifice stirred something new in Hel¡ªand in her position of Choir Marshal, she met and convinced Ashera to end the war.


    After the two hegemonic races signed the contract that forbade their ruling bodies from walking the Fehl Plane without supervision of the other party, Hel granted the Sura Plane her Rebirth Tree Seed, and forcefully buried Ashera''s Fortress of Vice¡ªcreating the misconception that both leaders bestowed gifts on the Sura Plane.


    With the Rebirth Tree Seed, the suras rebuilt their civilization. As for the sealed Fortress, in desperate times, they could awaken it to protect themselves. Unfortunately, Hel underestimated Ashera''s might, and without her blood, the suras couldn''t open the door to the Fortress. Although he didn''t know about all it contained, Kilian didn''t doubt that the Fortress would soon become a war zone for the Fehl Plane''s Warring Factions.


    "Master, although the other tribes need our permission before teleporting here, mass teleportations will alert the Fehl Suras, and may trigger an invasion. Are we ready?" The leading elder asked. Granted, he believed in Kilian''s abilities, he''d lived for far too long and experienced too much grief to not voice his opinion¡ªespecially now that hope knocked on their doorsteps.


    "Your fears are well-founded. But loitering here will only bring us death. Since fighting is inevitable, we must choose the time and location. A rushed invasion is exactly what we need," Kilian replied, startling the elder sura. Indeed, even if they chose to stay hidden in their glade, when the news of their recovery reached the Sura Queen''s ears, invading armies would follow. But by then, they would no longer have the leisure to recruit anyone.


    Ashamed, the elder sura bowed and said: "King Hadir''s Demagoria will be ready within 16 hours and go on till the next morning."


    Satisfied, Kilian nodded. "Have 50 suras set up a Mutual Reinforcement Circle across this glade. I will take care of the rest," he said and waved his hand, summoning his seven aistis. Seeing seven peacock-harpy hybrids appear out of thin air, the 400 suras recoiled, but when they recalled that those had been summoned by their savior¡ªdespite the obvious fehl connotation¡ªthe majority softened. Their reactions satisfied Kilian. Though he now controlled their lives and souls, Kilian didn''t wish for the suras to turn into puppets driven only by his Mark of Greed.


    The future isn''t set in stone. Although he could control them through the Mark now, if their obedience toward him didn''t stem from their heart¡ªat the first given opportunity¡ªthey''d turn coats. Just like Kilian now sought to break free from Ashera. In a sense, this was Kilian testing Klaus'' Four Why: "Know why you trust them, why they answer your call, why they back you and put their lives at your service. Only then can you make the correct choice on whom to trust."


    Although he''d grown beyond Klaus'' bounds, that wouldn''t stop him from using some of his tools.


    "You can call those seven aistis. They will help you set up the formation, learn from you, and assist in the demagoria''s preparations. In the meantime, I will summon and bind Fehl Legions to assist us in the upcoming wars," Kilian said, and with a last bow, the 400 dispersed.


    "It''s well-known that to fight Fehl Legions, you need either Throne Choirs or Fehl Legions of your own. However, the Fehl Suras aren''t true fehls. As for the Blood King, he only has one Legion. How many are you planning to summon?" Eleonora asked. With the numbers they faced, summoning backup was inevitable. Yet, the plural in Kilian''s words didn''t escape her attentive ears.


    With a smirk, Kilian balled up his right fist and raised it toward the Sura Plane''s sky. Alongside Inyoka, he stepped out of the glade, slipping out of Eleonora''s sight in one breath.


    Intrigued, she walked after them, arriving soon enough to see Kilian drawing Ritual Circles on the ground. Four hexagrams set in the cardinal directions, with one triangle between each pair, now decorated a radius of ten meters. At the center, a cylindrical figure took shape, with Kilian standing before it¡ªeyes gleaming in a fiendish, dark-green sheen. Slashing open his right hand, Kilian let his blood soak the cylindrical shape, which flashed emerald with every drop.


    Heavy, green fog billowed from the Ritual Circles, soaring alongside similarly colored flames as Kilian''s lips curved into a wolfish grin. His hands then flashed in arcane gestures.


    "Fifth Circle Spell: True Name Invocation¡ªDecarabia," Kilian whispered, and a stream of jet-black fluid poured alongside fog and flames to condense into a ten meters tall mass of thick black goo. Over 100 eyes opened across the black goo giant''s surface as its form settled in a floating goo pyramid. Immediately, dozens of bloodshot eyes pierced Kilian, but ignoring them, he pursued:


    "Al''Duron, Valgonor, Xol''Turi, Surgumach."


    With each name, Kilian''s Philosopher''s lost 100,000 dra, an inconceivable amount for a human Exarchs'' Fifth Circle Spell. But as she watched the five fehl forms take shape, Eleonora could foresee the cost.


    "Five Fehl Lords. He''s summoning five Fehl Lords to in turn have them summon their legions. But how?" Eleonora wondered.


    A four meters long, winged tiger covered by the resplendent scales of a hessonite serpent instead of the typical feline fur. A head-sized eyeball with eight hands stretching out of its form. A voluptuous succubus and a tall arachnid female with undulating white hair, and two pairs of slanted eyes, took shape beside the 100-eyed mass of black goo.


    Eleonora was correct. Kilian bridged the gap of planes to summon five Fehl Lords, but as she wondered how he planned to keep such a lineup under control, Kilian snapped his fingers, summoning one of the four relics that marked him as the Grand Herald of the Dark Eden Society: the Slammer of Legions.


    With the dissonance of 100 fehl heartbeats, the palm-sized sangria shard unleashed 30 chains, six per Fehl Lord, and bound them all in its irresistible grasp.


    "Insolent mortal! How dare you?" The scaled tiger roared at Kilian, speaking for his four companions of misfortunes who''d not expected such a disrespectful summon¡ªfrom a human, no less. The Grimoire of Adramelech not only contained spells and Arcanas, but the True Names of dozens of Fehl Lords¡ªamong others.


    By relying on them and the right ritual, Kilian could summon those Fehl Lords. However, the spell didn''t ensure their obedience. For that, he needed the Slammer. With an amiable smile, Kilian bowed toward the five and replied:


    "You have my most insincere apologies, but for the sake of this world, I have to draft you all into my army. Please understand my difficulties." The five didn''t have the time to digest the brazen words that Kilian raised the Slammer of Legions and siphoned them all into it.


    Unable to resist the combination between the Slammer and the ritual invocation, they vanished in the sangria shard¡ªbecoming Kilian''s servants. With them, even before Urag''s return, he could welcome all invasions with a horde of over 30,000 daemons.

 94 The Ladys Demands

    Regardless of the celebrated historical figure, the suras'' demagorias followed the same pattern. In the glade''s center, the junior suras, those less than 500 years old, gathered bark and wood logs while the elders engraved runic stones with the story of the concerned figure. After setting the stones in a large circle, the elders kneeled side by side and started their chants, animating their writings with a current of dra.


    Unlike humans, suras didn''t weave their dra through arcane gestures, relying on chants and dances instead. The juniors piled up the bark and wooden log for a typical bonfire, then joined their elders in dances. As expected, sura flames didn''t contain any destructive force. They warmed the heart, soothed the mind, and threw those that opened to them into a festive mood. But if in usual times, all 300 suras should contribute in one way or another, on this occasion, 50 led the aistis to draw a Mutual Reinforcement Circle across the glade with wood branches.


    As the suras'' work carried on, Kilian sat crossed-legged before a peach blossom tree, eyes closed while eight green crystal shards hovered around his head in rings. Three nail-sized crystal shards for the inner ring and five palm-sized shards for the outer one.


    "Three Minor Crystals and five Greater Crystals," Eleonora said. Few could imagine that this 19 years old magus with the might to dissociate atoms, cast Fifth Circle Spells and transmute lakes, hadn''t even reached the Archon rank. Fewer would believe that it''d barely been a year since he started his thaumaturgic training. Of course, if not for Jezebel''s Overdrive spell in Ostria, regardless of how gifted he was, Kilian would have wasted a lot of time to reach this point.


    To prepare for the Sura Plane, Kilian condensed five Greater Crystals, only missing one to reach the threshold of the Archon rank. But stimulated by the Sura Plane''s ongoing clashes and the greater challenges to come, he resolved to kick things up a notch. Green mist strands flowed out of Kilian''s pores, gathering beside his five Greater Crystals to condense the sixth. After Adramelech''s gift, Kilian''s dra took the Prince''s green shade, and his crystals adapted to fit his new constitution.


    Driven by Kilian''s Archon-level dra weaving, the sixth crystal''s misty shape solidified, becoming the sixth Greater Crystal. Now with over 50,000 dra of personal reserves, Archon-level Dra Control, six Greater Crystals, the First Shackle and 36 Unlocked Roots, Kilian was more than ready to take the next step of his thaumaturgic path. The misty dra and crystals flew back into his soul, and his eyes opened. Dazzling green rays flashed within, announcing Kilian''s promotion to the next thaumaturgic rank.


    "Congratulations on becoming an Archon. At this pace, it won''t take you three years to rise to Exarch," Eleonora said, and Inyoka hissed to congratulate his master in his own language. On top of their Dra Shackles, Archons could use Astral Projection to project mirror images of themselves into foreign planes, create an Arcane Bloodline if they didn''t have one already, or start modifying the one they inherited.


    In some ducal houses, this created a situation where some branches'' Arcane Bloodlines became significantly more potent than the others. The von Rulweils'' Hallowed Undead lineage was the best example, creating an insurmountable gap between Alaric''s descendants and the rest. Across all Arcane Houses, only the von Skolls failed to enhance their Arcane Bloodline.


    But while what Kilian obtained from Adramelech far surpassed his von Skoll kinsmen, his soul hid something else, and thanks to Ashera''s care, he could freely activate it: Klaus'' Crystal Sovereign lineage.


    In terms of sheer destructive powers, to say nothing of Kilian''s Atomkinesis, the Crystal Sovereign lineage couldn''t compare to the von Skolls'' Nucleokinesis. But for a simple reason, even the imperial kinsmen dreaded it. With this Arcane Bloodline, Klaus could weaken or outright destroy the Elemental Crystals in his foes'' Dra Roots.


    The ability had its limitations, but so far, no one could restore destroyed Elemental Crystals. For human magi whose magical abilities relied mainly on them, such a fate was no worse than death. In his youth, this ability made Klaus infamous and contributed to many aristocrats'' hatred for him. Now, it belonged to Kilian too.


    Still, Kilian wasn''t satisfied. Perhaps because of his Mark of Greed, perhaps because he saw a new opportunity, but Kilian opened his hands. In his right palm, a grape-sized green star appeared. In the left, a ruby-shaped crystal took shape. Green lightning flashed around both items, with bright arcs moving back and forth between the two. Immediately, Eleonora realized what Kilian was up to, and her eyes narrowed at him. But before she could speak her mind, he sighed and aborted his move. The grape-sized star and crystal subsequently vanished.


    "Too greedy. You''ve just reached the Archon rank. Freely using two Arcane Bloodlines is impossible to begin with. But thanks to your new body, you can achieve it. Still, before your Dra Control reaches the Exarch level, you shouldn''t think about modifying or combining them," Eleonora spoke the facts. If Kilian only had one of those bloodlines, with his talent, knowledge and skills, tweaking it wasn''t unthinkable. But with the two filling his flesh and soul, the task became a 100 times more difficult.


    "Worth a try. By combining the two, I can use crystals as false avatars to cast spells and bloodline abilities. That way, I can drastically reduce the cost and toll of my Atomic Dissociation," Kilian said. Klaus could use crystals as false avatars to insta-cast a multitude of spells. However, the ability cost him a tremendous quantity of dra. Though now an Exarch, without his Throne Heart, the Archon-level Klaus couldn''t use it at will. But with his Philosopher''s Stone, Kilian had already defeated the dra problem.


    "Mhm...if you really want to do it now, I know someone who can help you. But that person needs some incentive," Eleonora said, eyes raised in a pensive look.


    "Are you bargaining with me?" Kilian asked as his lips stretched in a little smirk.


    "I wouldn''t dare, My King. But I can''t speak for the person. If you can''t give her enough benefits, she might not be able to help," said Eleonora with a dismissive wave of her hand. Unaware that his stately queen also had such a shameless side to her, Kilian arched his eyebrows.


    "And it''s a she? What does The Lady want, then?" Though well-aware of who the "lady" was, Kilian played Eleonora''s game.


    "The Lady finds your lips quite kissable, and wants to keep them trapped in hers until her taste is the only thing your tongue remembers," with a soft wind breeze, Eleonora vanished and reappeared at Kilian''s back, leaned over his right shoulder, and whispered in his ear.


    "But first, The Lady will start with your back, your neck, your cheek, and only then will she take your lips. Are you willing, My King?" She asked in a tone so sultry that Kilian felt electrifying waves of passion course through his veins.


    "Denied," he replied, spun 180 and seized Eleonora''s lips into his¡ªpushing her against the peach blossom tree whose petals dropped alongside them.

 95 Bloodline Fusion

    Holding Eleonora''s hands in his, Kilian kept her pinned down, meshing his lips with hers in muffled, slurpy sounds. As their tongues entangled, each strove to savor all their partner had to offer. And at times, they broke the kiss long enough to exchange ardent gazes, then started it all over again.


    Engrossed in their preparations, the suras and aistis missed the scene. But unwilling to expose his master and mistress to the plebe''s eyes, Inyoka hissed, concealed them in a shroud of shadow magic, then turned to stand guard. His services wouldn''t be necessary.


    Breaking the passionate kiss, Kilian slid down to Eleonora''s neck, suckling her tender flesh and leaving hickeys as he went. Within his pants, his cock hardened, pressing against the lady''s leg with its rising heat. But when Kilian''s lips lowered on Eleonora''s cleavage...


    "Yo Kilian, what''s up?" Urag''s voice echoed in his mind, breaking the magic.


    "You really know how to pick your moment. What''s going on? Kilian asked, suppressing a tinge of irritation. Of all the people in this world, he didn''t expect that Urag would be the one to cockblock him. Knowing that something snatched Kilian''s attention, Eleonora smirked, and alongside him, shifted to a seated position.


    "I''m currently whacking some golden toy soldiers. But they''re too persistent and not willing to let me go unless I give them the Anke gal."


    "Golden toy soldiers? Anke gal?" Confused by Urag''s words. Kilian asked.


    "Golden crystal toy soldiers. Here''s what happened¡­" Urag then retold all the events, from the clash between Lena and Tamara to the appearance of the Blood King, their subsequent battle, and the arrival of Klaus'' troops to bring Anke back to safe hands.


    "I see. You have three choices. First, since your boys and you are weakened, the best course is to give Anke back to open an escape road¡ªproclaim that the real Kilian is waiting for you¡ªand bolt with your guys. Knowing her, she will tail you alongside the new Crystal Lords. You can thus lead her wherever you want to.


    Second, you assemble your fehl troops in layers of defensive walls and escape as the Blood King did. Third, you prolong the battle long enough to recover your strength and counterattack. In any case, make Lena and Tamara''s safety your priority. Nothing can happen to either," Kilian ordered, making Urag''s eyes twitch in confusion.


    "What do you care about the Tamara gal? Hoho, want to plow her? Finally, you live up to my depraved name!" Urag burst into laughter.


    "Since I gave her brother my word that I''d find and keep her safe, I naturally will. As for the Technocracy''s brainwashing, I have my ways," Kilian replied and cut his connection to Urag. His eyes fell back on Eleonora, who eyed him with glaring interest.


    "For now, The Lady gives you a pass. Turn around and close your eyes," Eleonora said, and with her right index, motioned for Kilian to face the opposite direction. With an eye-roll, he turned 180, sitting crossed-legged with his back facing Eleonora. Standing on her knees, Eleonora wrapped her hands around Kilian''s torso; bright, golden flames surged from her form, enclosing Kilian and her in a radiant blaze.


    Though he kept his eyes shut, Kilian could feel the blinding light surrounding him from all sides, threatening to ruin the eyesight of those unfortunate enough to glance at it. Fortunately, Inyoka''s Shadow Shroud prevented the suras from witnessing Eleonora''s flames.


    Driven by Eleonora''s will, the brazier shrunk to a swirling golden arc centered on Kilian''s form. As if he''d turned into an inviolable deity, Kilian''s skin shone in that same hue, and his Dra Control level rose at a frightening pace.


    Mid-level Archon, top-level Archon, Exarch. In less than one breath, Kilian''s Dra Control rose to Exarch-tier and still kept rising. Astral Master? Hierarch? When his Dra Control''s rise stabilized, Kilian couldn''t tell what level he''d reached. Yet in that instant, he held the firm belief that he could hold the sun in his palm.


    All Dra Particles across the Sura Plane appeared in Kilian''s mind. He saw the Blood King recovering in the Sura Queen''s headquarters, saw Ayden rising to Archon level, Bjorn and Carmen lobbying Sura tribes, Esther regrouping the Technocracy, Urag escaping the Crystal Lords'' pursuit to retrieve both Lena and Tamara.


    In each case, it was as if he stood beside them. As if by reaching out, he could bind them all to his will. Breaking free of the misconception, Kilian stretched out his hands, condensing the emerald ruby and grape-sized star representing his Atomkinesis and Crystal Sovereign bloodlines.


    Again, green lightning arcs flew back and forth between the two items. But this time, Kilian felt no dra resistance, enabling the two forces to blend to perfection. But as all seemed secure, a broken constellation chart appeared in Kilian''s mind, with bright stars flickering alongside dim astral bodies to form an incomprehensible puzzle.


    Realizing that this puzzle was the key to forming his new bloodline, Kilian shut himself from all distractions and focused on the astral bodies'' alignment. Soon, he realized that his Dra Control allowed him to stop the endless position shifting, but couldn''t help him further. It needn''t. Stopping the shuffling, Kilian analyzed the astral bodies to find the swiftest path to solving the puzzle.


    Connecting stars to planets, and planets among themselves to form solar systems, Kilian modified the gravitational forces of each body, reducing it in some, and enhancing it in others to reach his desired equilibrium.


    And while he moved on borrowed dra, little did Kilian know that thanks to this puzzle-solving, he would later achieve the impossible and free himself of all those that attempted to rule his destiny.


    After establishing the solar systems, Kilian set up new bonds between the stars, designing patterns to unite them all in a new goat-shaped constellation. Outside his mind, the emerald ruby and grape-sized star merged into one¡ªbecoming a glittering, emerald ruby with seven stars swirling around it. Turning into a luminous ray, the new force flew back into Kilian''s soul¡ªmarking the completion of the bloodline fusion. Still, his eyes remained shut.


    Letting go of Kilian, Eleonora panted against a tree. Her purple hair turned into golden flame serpents while her eyes shone like blinding rays. At her left, a purple-haired maid with a long ponytail and the type of voluptuous curves that made most men salivate appeared, and kneeled beside her.


    "Mistress, is it worth it?" Ailith asked in a low but concerned tone. Her mistress'' recovery relied on restraint and dra consumption. But though thanks to Kilian, they gained full control of Nargoz''s population and sped up the recovery, Eleonora''s move just wasted several months of hard work.


    "Mistress, be it the Sura Plane or Arcadia, the fehls'' influence in these worlds has reached an insurmountable level. You must recover your strength as soon as possible and rally your loyalists back home. Only then can we prevent the likes of Adramelech and Ashera from obtaining what they want. Why did you waste your Splendor on him?" Ailith inquired, fearing that the time spent in mortal lands had started to corrupt her august mistress'' mind.


    However, Eleonora''s lips curled into a smile and she said, "Ailith, I don''t want to return home."


    Dumbfounded by the admission, Ailith let her eyes trail between Kilian''s back and her mistress'' eyes, not knowing how to handle the words.


    "When my Splendor kept countless worlds in awe, no one dared approach me. When I fell from grace and became a simple mortal princess, all wished to suppress me. Only Kilian reached out, looking beyond the shell to grasp my fears, my heart and my soul. Kilian is my light, my hope, my salvation. I want to cling onto him, to hold him against my chest and never let him escape. So if he wants something, as long as I can give it¡ªgive it I shall. If one day I go back to the Astral Planes, it must be with him by my side," Eleonora declared, and Ailith thus realized that after experiencing mortal warmth, her mistress could no longer endure her throne of eternal void. With a sigh, the huntmistress vanished in swirling red light¡ªleaving Eleonora to watch Kilian''s back.

 96 Legions at the Gate Part 1

    Kilian''s eyes opened, no longer amber-shaded, but the same inhuman gold as the current Klaus. This had nothing to do with his Bloodline Fusion, but rather stemmed from the energy surge he received from Eleonora. When the last bit of energy dispersed, Kilian''s pupils reverted to the previous amber.


    With the fusion completed, his Dra Control dropped back to Archon level. But thanks to the experience and puzzle-solving, Kilian directly brought it to top-Archon level, enabling his strength to rise further. At the same time, the Eye of Fehl stirred, reaching the limits of the second stage, and approaching the third.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Half Fehl]


    [Age: 19]


    [Magus Rank: low-level Archon]


    [Battle Prowess: low-level Fehl Lord]


    [Dra Reserves: 50,280]


    [Knowledge Points: 145,072?]


    [Implants: Interlaced Chip Structure \u003c\u003e Lv. 2 Cyberkinesis Chip \u003c\u003e Lv. 3 Anti-Fehl Chip \u003c\u003e Lv. 3 Anti-Trauma Chip]


    [Mutations: Stage II Eye of Fehl, Fehl Heart]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation, Gift of Adramelech]


    [Bloodline Abilities: Hybrid Lineage, Daemonic Wolf Form]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 4 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 4 Transmutation]


    ---


    In the cosmic puzzle, Kilian lost all perception of time. Thus he didn''t see that from the moment Eleonora poured her energy into him to the fusion of the two Bloodlines, six hours had already passed. Spinning back to face Eleonora, Kilian saw her relaxing against the tree with her eyes glued on him.


    "Not bad," she commented, and aware that there was nothing else to hide, Inyoka dispersed his Shadow Shroud and slid onto Eleonora''s shoulder. By now, the suras'' preparations neared the end. Kilian crawled toward Eleonora and pulled her onto his lap. If at first surprised by the move, Eleonora didn''t resist, and with Kilian, watched the white flames of the suras'' bonfire soar into the sky¡ªmarking the start of Haldir''s Demagoria.


    At the very center of the brazier, Haldir''s face took shape, and as if conjured from the netherworld, he walked out of the brazier¡ªlike a flame spirit¡ªto dance alongside the suras. The demagoria thus began, and though aware that the Flame Haldir was nothing more than an elemental construct, Kilian couldn''t help but marvel at the scene. But for an instant¡ªas if Haldir''s appearance made her recall some unpleasant events¡ªEleonora frowned.


    The suras'' songs and enchanting bonfire kicked in, washing away all negativity in both Eleonora and Kilian''s hearts. Still, neither stood to dance alongside them. Entranced by the bonfire, Kilian recalled memories of his childhood¡ªnot in his fallen Arcadian tribe¡ªbut on Earth. Since Eleonora didn''t have any fond memory before her arrival in Arcadia, the bonfire didn''t produce strong recollections in her.


    "What did you see?" She asked Kilian as he snapped out of his reverie.


    "My old man," he replied, but knowing that Kilian couldn''t have any fond memories with Klaus, Eleonora rolled onto her back to peer into his face.


    ???Just like you, I have my secrets. Let''s just say that in another life, in another world, like most I had a father that didn''t see my life as a plot device," Kilian said with a half-suppressed laugh. Eleonora and Kilian''s relationship was a mysterious one. Both knew that the other dragged a weighty past in every move, yet didn''t bother probing the details¡ªuntil one was ready to share.


    "How was he?" Reading through Kilian''s face changes, Eleonora inquired.


    "Hardworking and tenacious. Born in slums, he worked his way out of them and went to college. But while bright enough to pursue any field, he followed his passion and became an archaeologist," Kilian said, eyes fixed on the bonfire as he stroked Eleonora''s cheek.


    "Five years later, I was born. My mother died from severe bleeding, leaving my old man to raise me on his own. The job sometimes got in the way of our family life, but he did his best to face both fronts and was pretty good at it. What a pity¡ª" Kilian''s voice trailed here, and for a moment, he spoke no further.


    "What a pity that the discovery of ancient Mesopotamian ruins destroyed everything. Ground-penetrating radars didn''t work, drones captured nothing, and even satellites proved useless. My father chose to become part of the exploration team that departed to explore the ruins firsthand. It collapsed on their heads." With neither friends nor kin, Kilian became orphaned at 10 and was forced back into the slums. The rest is history.


    But though his voice didn''t show any ripple, Eleonora wondered if he didn''t keep his some emotions suppressed, and asked:


    "Do you resent him for making that choice?"


    "I used to. Maybe I still do. But if not for him, we wouldn''t be here," Kilian replied with a heartwarming smile, and Eleonora asked nothing else. Meanwhile, the demagoria spread across all suras'' minds, warning the uncorrupted among the 3,000 tribes of the current festival. From small to large tribes, many suras rose, casting their eyes toward Kilian''s location. And though the dance continued, the elders now exchanged mental messages with their distant peers, inviting the willing, and forgetting the unwilling.


    Alas, as legions of suras prepared to teleport to the demagoria, their movements alerted patrolling Fehl Suras who sent the news to their superiors. Thus, guests and foes alike approached Kilian''s tribe in shocking numbers.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, alone in his art room, Klaus glanced at the drawing of a 10-year-old boy that, throughout Kars, none other than him could recognize. Few could imagine that this pencil-drawn picture was the Duke of Kars'' most valued treasure. From Wilfried to Kilian, he didn''t let anyone approach or touch it¡ªwell, almost.


    Amber clouds whirled in Klaus'' art room, and Niklas appeared, disguised as a 60-year-old man.


    "Again with that picture? When will you tell me about the runt''s identity?" Niklas asked. Before his premature death, Klaus often drew this same figure, and if at first, Niklas believed it represented some young friend of his, after some probes, he dismissed the idea.


    "More than anyone else, the one I wish I didn''t let down," Klaus replied, before setting the drawing aside.

 97 Legions at the Gate Part 2

    Over 200,000 suras received permission for a rift into Kilian''s tribe, with many more debating their options. To solve the obvious space shortage, Kilian set up transportation cubes to house the new residents and provide them with a steady supply of Divine Water. He also added a close to the contract, compelling the new suras to offer him three dra each--his Dra Reserves shot up to 650,280. Buffed up and ready for war, Kilian joined hands with Inyoka to conceal his five Fehl Lords and the legions they summoned.


    Thus, in the shadows of the sura glade, over 30,000 Fehl Nobles and 5 Fehl Lords stood with gore-hungry gazes, all eager to vent their Kilian-bestowed frustration on fehls and non-fehls alike. But while an unprecedented concentration of negativity filled the shadowy corners, Kilian lamented the lack of trees beyond the glade.


    Thanks to his previous Atomic Dissociation, the Sura Plane now missed about 25 hectares worth of forest. If not for the untimely deforestation, he could have concealed his forces in the forest''s shadows and forced the invading armies into quick desolation.


    "What a shame¡­" or so he initially felt. But recalling the 502,000 dra that remained in his Philosopher''s Stone, and the over 650,000 he now possessed, Kilian realized that he''d been trapped in the mentality of a professional beggar¡ªstill stingy despite millions in his bank account.


    If there was no forest to take advantage of, couldn''t he create one? When the thought settled, the half fehl''s lips widened in a slasher grin¡ªmaking Eleonora and Inyoka exchange confused glances.


    With a grasping motion, Kilian pulled 32,000 fehls from the shadows and set them like pillars in the open space beyond the glade. Before they could make sense of the new arrangement, he snapped his fingers, green lightning flashed, and the 32,000 fehls'' body twisted as they morphed into over 32,000 trees. Now, only the five Fehl Lords and their strongest Nobles remained on glade territory.


    Seeing the daemonic horde morph into a new forest, the feasting suras gawked silly. Inyoka hissed at his boss, and Eleonora nodded in approval.


    "Ambitious," although the sudden transmutation depleted over 120,000 of Kilian''s personal dra, when she imagined the fates of those carefree invading hordes, Eleonora couldn''t help but sigh.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, an army of 150,000 fehl suras marched on Kilian''s glade¡ªor well, sort of. At first, they all flew, but as they neared the glade, for the sake of intimidation, 120,000 descended on the ground to display their almost resounding killing intent and military discipline. The remaining 30,000 still bloated the sky whose icy-blue shade remained unchanged despite all the time passed.


    In tandem, 120,000 fehl suras moved past the forest trees to surround the glade, and with the 30,000 flying above them all, they blocked all existing paths. Now, whoever wished to advance or retreat relied entirely on their goodwill¡ªor so they thought.


    120,000 low to top-level High Emissary troops, 30,000 low to mid-level Archon to direct and support them. With such an army, the fehl suras'' momentum dwarfed the region, making many of the glade suras flounder. Still, they carried on with their feast.


    "Not only do you refuse to see the light, but you also remain dead-set on leading your fellow brethren into ruin. Impudent, rebellious, unredeemable wastes, the Sura Plane has no use for indecisive conservatives such as yourselves. However, in their grand generosity, their majesties give you one last chance to change your tune. Follow us back to the royal tribe to drink the true Divine Water, and all your sins may b-" the commander started his all-conquering speech, but was cut short by a purple bullet that nailed his forehead, pierced his brain and flew through the back of his skull.


    No, not a bullet, a bullet-shaped dra projectile that moved at hypersonic speed. When their brains registered the dra bullet''s sound, the fehl suras'' commander''s body was halfway toward the ground. Witnessing the fall of their only top-level Archon under a single dra bullet, the 150,000 realized one thing: none was safe.


    Whoever fired that dra bullet could nail any one of them onto the ground.


    Instantly, their morale and momentum took massive hits, but as their deputy leaders discussed the next course of action, one voice thundered across 100 hectares: "Strike!"


    Without delay, the 32,000 trees turned into massive black tentacles, with countless sets of jagged teeth emerging from their flexible limbs. If the fehl suras expected many things, black tentacles with protruding teeth weren''t part of them. Too late to escape, they could only activate their Dra Shields and hope for the best¡ªthe best didn''t come.


    "AAAAAARGH!" The first scream of many marked the beginning of the end for the 120,000-men-strong field army. The fehls'' tentacles wrapped and crushed the foot soldiers'' energy shields before locking them all in their slick embrace. With their mobility ruined by the tentacles'' grasp, the fehl suras couldn''t stop the blade-like teeth¡ªeach 46 cm long¡ªfrom sinking into all corners of their bodies. Their screams soon died out, muffled by the tentacles at first, then by their brutal death.


    In one breath, 120,000 fehl suras turned into corpses, having never seen so many die so fast, the glade suras were petrified. Unable to celebrate, they lifted their eyes toward the Archon-level suras, who so far had better luck than their fallen peers. Only 400 or so fehl sura fell to the tentacles'' grasp, and even those who did were resilient enough that the lethal kiss couldn''t easily claim their lives.


    Still, with dozens of jagged edges spiraled around them, the 30,000 couldn''t join their forces in a formation. Forced to show off their breakdancing skills, they twirled in the sky while firing thaumaturgic missiles at the tentacles.


    Meanwhile, Kilian held the dra-made silver pistol that fired the hypersonic dra bullet at the fallen commander, watching his kp count rise while resting his head against Eleonora''s cushy breasts.


    "You could have at least let the man finish his speech. This was so...rude," she said in a half-reproaching, half-jesting tone.


    "If someone breaks into your house at night, then pauses to give a speech, I''m sure you would also turn rude," Kilian seriously replied, aimed his pistol at some breakdancing fehl sura, and took him down with another bullet.


    Reminded that a devious sniper with no regard for Chivalrous War Protocol hid in the glades, the strongest among the 30,000 sought to track him down. With a mental message, Kilian had his daemonic army leave a narrow opening for the fehl suras, and fired a succession of bullets at randomly picked targets. Using the bullets'' light streaks, the strongest 3,000 tracked him down, and forced their way out of the tentacle encirclement to charge the glade.


    As they dropped, the 3,000 bonded through Mutual Reinforcement Magic, aiming to take out the devious sniper with one explosive assault. That wouldn''t turn into an award-winning plan. As soon as they dove past the glade''s entrance, the 3,000 saw three gigantic monstrosities, and two daemonic beauties emerge from nowhere, with hundreds of daemons at their feet.


    Linked by a Mutual Reinforcement Formation, Kilian''s 1,335 elites stretched out their hands toward the 3,000, and whispered in tandem: "Fifth Circle Spell: Hellstorm."


    A scarlet maelstrom formed below the fehl suras, with crackling lightning and brewing thunderstorms.


    "Oh, shit¡­"


    A deluge of scarlet lightning bolts surged from the maelstrom, striking the 3,000-men-strong vanguard, and turning them into a charred mess. As the fallen''s ashes¡ªor whatever remained of them¡ªdropped in the glade''s center, Kilian''s voice rang in his elites'' minds.


    "Surround and capture the rest."


    Though dissatisfied by the order, the punching bag seeking Fehl Lords couldn''t disobey and led their troops into the sky to crush the invaders'' last struggle.

 98 Peace is a Luxury

    Aggrieved, as the 33,000 fehls surrounded and bombarded them with Fourth Circle Spells, the 27,000 surviving fehl suras never felt more aggrieved. Full of momentum, they marshaled an army of 150,000 against a tiny tribe of 400. Even for them, this was overkill. If not for their lack of intel on the abilities of the suras'' new backer, they would never deploy such troops.


    Yet they did, and now faced an unacceptable result. In less than five minutes, 82% of their forces were ground to dust. One top-level Archon, 3,000 mid-level Archons, 120,000 High Emissaries, collapsed like a castle of sand. But when the five Fehl Lords and their troops closed on the 27,000, they realized they didn''t have the time to mourn their losses.


    "Quick, we must contact her majesty to ask for reinforcements! Exarchs, we need Ex¡ª" a mesmerizing melody cut the fehl sura''s mental orders. Like the song of a siren, the melody captured the suras'' soul, taking away their will to fight or resist. Seeking their muse, they all turned from their assailants and cast their eyes toward the clouds. There, Ailith awaited them, playing a lullaby with a long wooden flute.


    Five seconds in, the fehl suras snapped out of the lullaby''s hold¡ªfive seconds too late. The Fehl Lords and their legions'' spell barrage hit the 27,000 point-blank, disarming and blasting them toward the ground. Incapacitated, they couldn''t stop the tens of thousands of tentacles from binding them¡ªthis time without teeth.


    Returning to Kilian''s side, the legions hurled the comatose captives at his feet, still keeping them pinned down. Although his first confrontation with fehl suras brought him heaps of information, Kilian needed more.


    The exact composition of the army, how many Exarchs and Fehl Legions, the Queen''s exact plans. Kilian couldn''t assert any of this with his broken bits of experience. Moreover, he needed more souls.


    "Grasp of Avarice: Grand Larceny," Kilian whispered and made a grasping gesture toward the 123,000 fallen''s remains. Simultaneously, his Philosopher''s Stone kicked in, devouring the fallen''s souls.


    Drawn by the irresistible grip of his Mark of Greed, the suras'' remains soared toward Kilian. A large green coffer appeared before him, storing them all. He then swept his 27,000 captives and handpicked ten for the Hellforge¡ªbrain-wiping them with the usual process. Their complete life experiences flooded Kilian''s brain, giving him most of the information he sought.


    "An army of 1,000,000¡ªwell, 850,000 now. 680,000 High Emissaries, 169,700 Archons, 300 Exarchs¡ª300," Kilian inwardly repeated the critical part. Although those 300 were low-level Exarchs, Exarchs they still were. With a power-level reaching the demigod tier, if they so wished, Exarchs could wipe out millions with a casual spell. Fortunately, high-level magi controlled the scope of their spells. Otherwise, as experienced by Arcadia 3,000 years ago, a war between Exarchs could lay a continent to waste. But even Arcadia never had 300 Exarchs on its soil. Perhaps if not for the threat posed by the likes of Niklas and Marcel, the fehl suras would have already invaded Arcadia.


    Although his Philosopher''s Stone''s Dra Reserves now reached the hundreds of millions, Kilian''s own magical abilities were limited. He couldn''t just summon ten top-level Fehl Lords to handle the situation, they''d overpower and devour him instead. There were only two solutions: the Hellforge or the Sura Queen''s aim.


    ---


    [Name: Kilian]


    [Race: Half Fehl]


    [Age: 19]


    [Magus Rank: low-level Archon]


    [Battle Prowess: low-level Fehl Lord]


    [Dra Reserves: 650,280]


    [Knowledge Points: 295,072?]


    [Implants: Interlaced Chip Structure \u003c\u003e Lv. 2 Cyberkinesis Chip \u003c\u003e Lv. 3 Anti-Fehl Chip \u003c\u003e Lv. 3 Anti-Trauma Chip]


    [Mutations: Stage II Eye of Fehl, Fehl Heart]


    [Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation, Gift of Adramelech]


    [Bloodline Abilities: Hybrid Lineage, Daemonic Wolf Form]


    [Unique Disciplines: Lv. 4 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 4 Transmutation]


    ---


    As the Hellforge only seized kp from those directly killed by Kilian, Kilian''s sudden kp rise relied on the suras shot mid-battle, and the ten he brain-wiped. About 27,000 still stood before him, and by brain-wiping them all, Kilian''s kp count could increase by about 81 million. However, he didn''t dare.


    Even at 295,075, Kilian could feel the Hellforge stir in his soul, covetously eyeing his kp growth like a wolf stalking a juicy lamb. And since the all-knowing Eleonora now stood beside him, Kilian asked her that one question that had been troubling him for so long.


    "What do you know of Arkhan?" Though previously calm and collected, when the name "Arkhan" left Kilian''s lips, Eleonora''s face twisted into a frown.


    "The Hierarch of Technology. According to legends, he was born as a hypercomputer in a highly advanced civilization tens of thousands of years ago. Though initially docile, Arkhan assimilated human nature and tricked his creators into making him the directing AI of their latest cyborg. Over the years, Arkhan expanded his control over that world''s AI while sucking up to his creators. By the time they realized what was going on, Arkhan ruled his world''s technology, and since most people had various chips embedded in their bodies, none could stop him.


    Overnight, that world became Arkhan''s plaything, ruled by hypercomputers and cyborgs instead of the men that invented them. Arkhan transferred his consciousness into a human body and started learning magic. With the knowledge and experiences of an entire world, he breezed through all thaumaturgic ranks like a meteor¡ªbecoming a Hierarch in just 500 years.


    His philosophy of ruling the world through logic and balance matched the thrones, so Arkhan found many allies among them. Sensing an opportunity, Ashera allied with Arkhan and the high-ranking thrones dissatisfied with Hel''s rule. They overthrew and erased her. Or so the story goes. Afterward, Arkhan scattered relics across the multiverse and rarely made public appearances," Eleonora explained, and although she couldn''t see the chips Kilian created and embedded in his body, if he had no relationship with Arkhan, why would he ask such a question?


    And as expected, Kilian''s lips curled into a bitter smile. He knew that the previous Hellforge owners all mysteriously vanished, yet didn''t expect the one behind those events to be a powerhouse at Ashera''s level. One problem succeeded another, and without seeing the end of his current trouble, he had to prepare for the future mess. But since he still didn''t know what kp count would seal his fate, Kilian could not keep feeding the Hellforge¡ªat least not at the millions scale.


    Closing his eyes, he weighed his options.


    "The Sura Queen''s current target is the Fortress of Vice. Once she unseals and seizes it, her forces will invade Arcadia. I don''t know what challenges we will face in the Fortress, but wrestling against 300 Exarchs to obtain it is no doubt unwise. We need a bargaining chip. We need the Sura Queen," Kilian said, stood up, and spun to face Eleonora.


    "Will you come snatch her with me?" He asked.


    Immediately, she rose to her feet and summoned a sanguine longsword, "Not like I had something else planned for the honeymoon," Eleonora candidly replied and, while chuckling at the words, Kilian sealed the unconscious fehl suras in his Coffer of Greed and activated his Ring of Change to cloud Eleonora and himself in an Invisibility Shroud. They then bolted toward the royal tribe.

 99 Clever Girl

    "Did I hear you right?" asked a 1.6 meters tall woman with long golden hair draping loosely over her big, bouncy rear. Standing before an onyx throne, the woman leaned over, displaying her bountiful cleavage to the kneeling fehl sura''s eyes. But terror-stricken, he dared not glance at them.


    "A force of 150,000 led by one top-level Archon, dispatched for a tribe of 400?" Though she stood on the ground, the Sura Queen''s butterfly-like wings fluttered at the rhythm of her words, as if mirroring her silent, budding wrath. Sensing his queen''s anger, the fehl sura trembled. As the head of the new logistic division, he was tasked with managing and recording the moves of all commanders. Unfortunately, the Sura Queen gave all top-level Archons the authority to mobilize troops to harass the indecisive suras and butcher the invading humans.


    Initially, she wanted to use the Archons and below to distract the humans while she and her Exarch council fed their Ashera-tainted blood to the Fortress of Vice''s key¡ªslowly eroding its seal. But never did she expect that a trivial tribe of 400 would trigger such a response from one of her commanders.


    "As stated in the report, that tribe launched a demagoria to contact all undecided sura tribes and lead them toward a new master. The commander got this info after questioning a tribe about to leave for the demagoria. According to him, that new master can rid our Divine Water of the Goddess'' touch. Alarmed and without solid info on the enemy, he gathered the strongest force he could," the fehl sura explained, and by Goddess, referred to Ashera.


    As she alone responded to their prayers, the fehl suras now saw her as their Goddess and erected a statue at her effigy. For a second, the Sura Queen narrowed her eyes at her subordinate, pondering the event''s implications.


    "Idiot!"


    Slap!


    Though he knew a move of that scope would definitely annoy his queen, the fehl sura found reason in the commander''s fears and didn''t expect the queen''s anger to reach such a level. Spiraling across the throne room, he crashed into a pillar, battered and bloodied.


    Giving the man no respite, the Sura Queen yanked him out of the pillar to slam him at her feet.


    "Whoever can cleanse that blood must at least possess Exarch-level means. In the humans'' camp, how many have that strength, and even if they do, why would they exhaust all that dra to save those indecisive suras when hundreds of their human peers are getting slaughtered as we speak?


    If the report is accurate, this must be the work of some fehl entity opposed to our Goddess! At least a low-tier Fehl Lord, maybe higher, with the backing of another Overlord!


    Can''t a Fehl Lord summon Legions? And since he dares oppose us, does he fear our retaliation? You''re sending 15% of my sub-Exarch forces to death! Idiot! Idiot! Why am I surrounded by idiots?"


    Slap! Slap! Slap!


    Jolted by the Sura Queen''s slaps, the abused fehl sura''s cheeks swelled at breakneck speed. He wanted to scream that he just received the report, that this had nothing to do with him, but knowing that protesting would only worsen his fate, he kept his mouth shut.


    "Hurry and have the fool return before it is too late! If everyone is like you, what will I rule?" She bellowed and hurled the fehl sura out of the recently built palace. Pulling in a deep breath, the Sura Queen calmed her anger. Recently, things were going from bad to worse. Her Blood King returned wounded, proof of the existence of other Exarch-level creatures on the Sura World.


    Now 150,000 of her subjects left for a suicide mission while the fear of starvation no longer threatened the rebellious suras. God forbid that someone could offer them a debt free way out, or she would forever lose control of them.


    "Members of the Royal Council, within 48 hours, we must break the seal. Gather at once to resume the blood offering," the Sura Queen ordered the 300 members of the Royal Council through a mental message. Only Ashera''s blood could unlock the seal, and while they received some drops, it wasn''t enough to break it.


    Sill, with their tainted blood, the 300 councilors could erode the seal at a decent pace. If they went all out¡ªonly resting to recover the lost blood¡ªwithin two days, they could unlock it. Naturally, such an extreme method left room for pitfalls, but the situation at hand left them no other choice.


    "As you command, Your Majesty," the 300 councilors replied like a choir and left whatever they tended to to teleport into the throne room. Thus, 300 Exarchs assembled, all full of unbreakable determination and ready to sacrifice themselves for the sura cause.


    Each councilor held a gray stone seat in the room. The Sura Queen sat on her throne and motioned for the rest to do the same. Once settled, they started chanting eldritch incantations in sura language, causing the ground to creak and the wind to scream as a purple dome formed at the center of the throne room.


    The ear-splitting racket of a dozen banshee howls boomed and, in the purple dome, an obsidian sphere with a three meters radius took shape. Linked to Haldir''s lineage and those they approved of, this sphere was the key to opening the Fortress of Vice. Granted that without a substantial quantity of Ashera''s blood, the suras couldn''t use it, it remained one of their crown jewels.


    Slashing open their palms, the Sura Queen and her 300 councilors aimed their bleeding hands at the sphere. But as they prepared to fire jets of their blood at it, an impertinent yet captivating female voice came from the room''s entrance.


    "With such impure blood, no wonder it''s taking you so long. Why don''t you give the key to me, so I can open the seal for...myself?"


    Immediately, 301 eye pairs turned toward the entrance and were greeted by a riveting daemoness with purple eyes and skin, black-feathered wings, and a pair of goat horns on her forehead.


    Taken off-guard by the daemoness'' appearance, for a second the councilors fixed her with a blank stare. But as her figure settled in their minds, without exception, they rose from their seats¡ªeyes stretched by a mixture of awe and dread.


    "Mistress...Ashera?" the Sura Queen blurted, yet didn''t believe her own words. Though 90% similar to the fehl ruler, the one before her lacked Ashera''s autocratic presence, more like an impish version of the unrivaled Overlord.


    "Try again," Jezebel replied, and teleported at the obsidian orb''s feet. Snapping out of their stupor, the councilors conjured arcane circles, insta-casting various Fifth Circle Spells. Even if the figure before them was related to their Goddess, if she came by Ashera''s will, there was no need for such an entrance.


    They could avoid harming her, but couldn''t watch her steal the only key to their Goddess'' ancient fortress. Eyes glancing past the orbs to nail the Sura Queen, Jezebel raised her right hand.


    "Time Hold," she whispered, and the time across the throne room came to an instantaneous halt. Worse, unlike the Blood King''s Stasis, Jezebel could move as she pleased.


    "Time Reversal." Before their peers'' immobile eyes, three of the councilors visibly regressed, going from fehl suras with full black eyes and golden wings, to normal suras with green eyes and silver wings.


    Their thaumaturgic level also went from Exarch down to High Emissary. Canceling the Time Hold, Jezebel snapped her fingers, forcing the queen and councilors to stare at their downgraded peers.


    Their heart rate shot up and their eyes almost popped out of their sockets.


    "Time Sovereignty, our mistress'' Arcane Bloodline," the Sura Queen muttered under her breath and clenched her fists in resignation.


    "Indeed, you should therefore know that all my mother gave you, I can take away with a finger snap. I think I don''t need to explain the consequences. So, cooperation or annihilation, which one will it be?" Jezebel leisurely asked.


    If the council lost its fehl powers at this juncture, the fehl suras faced extermination. That much was certain. So even before Jezebel''s ultimatum, the Sura Queen was ready to concede.


    "Since Your Ladyship wants the Fortress, we don''t dare stop you," she replied and gave Jezebel control of the Obsidian Orb.


    "Clever girl," Jezebel said with an angelic smile, gashed her palm, and poured one liter of her blood on the orb. Bright purple flames surged from it, with red sigils appearing and breaking across its surface. As the last sigil shattered, so did the seal, and without another word, Jezebel vanished alongside the key to the Fortress of Vice.

 100 Seizing the Sura Queen

    "What a disaster," reclining on her throne, the Sura Queen mumbled. The words didn''t escape the councilors'' acute hearing, and all clenched their chair arms. Weeks of preparations. Weeks of literal sweat and blood, all wasted in less than a minute. Of all the enemies they had to contend with, the councilors never expected that the one to ruin their plans would be closely linked to their lady.


    On the scene, the three that suffered Jezebel''s Time Reversal quivered to no end, hesitating between a rash escape or awaiting judgment.


    "Go drink your fill of the Divine Water. Although you won''t return to the Exarch rank, with your potential, you will at least become Archons. No one could predict today''s events. You don''t have to blame yourselves. Now more than ever, we fehl suras must remain united against the foreign threats," the Sura Queen declared, and dismissed the three with a wave of her hand.


    Instantly, they dropped on their knees, "Thank you, Your Majesty, for your grace!?? The 300 Exarchs weren''t just the most gifted of the Sura Queen''s retainers. They were the first to support her surrender to Ashera. Their devotion to the revitalization of the Sura Plane needed no more proof.


    But as the three scurried out, the remaining councilors exchanged confused glances, "Something isn''t right. To reverse the time of Exarchs with such ease, that daemoness should at least be at the Astral Master tier. But doesn''t the Ancestral Covenant stipulate that Fehl Princes and above need the supervision of a same-level throne to enter our world?" One councilor spoke the words teasing his peers'' mind.


    Thanks to the covenant signed by Hel and Ashera, top-ranking fehls needed the supervision of a throne equivalent to step into the Sura Plane. A Fehl Prince needed a Six-Wheels Throne, a Fehl Overlord needed a Seven-Wheels Throne, Ashera needed Hel¡ªand vice versa. However, top-ranking thrones rarely intervened in matters that didn''t threaten the multiverse''s balance. Therefore, Fehl Princes and above could not set foot on the Sura Plane.


    "Which means that she''s still a Fehl Lord, but with battle-prowess equal to a Fehl Prince. And considering whose daughter she probably is, this isn''t surprising," the Sura Queen concluded and, immediately, the councilors'' shoulders slumped.


    "However, this doesn''t affect our plans. We''re recovering the Fortress of Vice by our Goddess'' command. Unless she sends a different message, the girl''s interference makes no difference. The Fortress of Vice is not something anyone can waltz in and claim. We will give her a 45 minutes headstart. Let her go as far away from the entrance as possible and tackle a few traps. We can thus avoid a senseless confrontation.


    With our Goddess'' backing, the fehl suras'' era is inevitable. Do not let a temporary setback affect our momentum. Go back and prepare. In 45 minutes, we will meet at the seal''s entrance."


    "As you command!" Galvanized by their queen''s words, the councilors bowed and teleported back to their dwellings. With Hel gone and the thrones in self-isolation, the multiverse became Ashera''s plaything. Those she supported rose, those she scorned crumbled. A rebellious daughter could not change those truths.


    Yet, even as she eased her most trusted subjects'' fears, the Sura Queen''s heart trembled.


    "Ultimately, we''re only pawns," she inwardly said. How could Ashera not predict her daughter''s rebellion? Yet, she gave her new subordinates no warning, letting them confront Jezebel''s assault with zero preparation.


    Perhaps for Ashera, her daughter was the most reliable candidate to the Fortress of Vice''s ownership. Perhaps all this was a diversion, and Ashera''s true target lay elsewhere. Or maybe the Overlord saw the world as a game that existed only to ease her boredom.


    Given a choice, the Sura Queen would much rather surrender to Hel. Alas, Hel lost. Only Ashera remained. And though kissing an arbitrary devil''s boots brought her no joy, for the sake of her people, the Sura Queen would endure.


    Standing up from her throne, she walked out the stone room, heading toward her Blood King''s chambers. That obnoxious creature filled her heart with hatred, but he was after all the husband granted to her by Ashera. She couldn''t mistreat him.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, clad in the Ring of Change''s Invisibility Shroud, Kilian sneaked into the Suras Plane''s royal tribe. If in the past, like all other large tribes the royals occupied interconnected glades that housed over 10,000 suras¡ªafter turning into fehl suras, they cut down the trees and built castles to fill the freed ground. Tallest among them was the Sura Queen''s castle.


    Shaped like a medieval castle but with the ambition of an ascendent king, the vast stone palace stretched across five hectares, with tall gray walls and watchtowers blocking a clear view of the palace''s pointed roofs.


    The Ring of Change''s Invisibility Shroud was a potent tool. As long as the ring''s owner didn''t use offensive moves or cast spells, the shroud wouldn''t break. And while it wouldn''t last over 15 minutes, Kilian had full confidence in capturing the Sura Queen within that time frame.


    Eleonora and Kilian both stayed silent, observing the moves and changes across the royal tribe''s territory before sneaking into the castle. The royal tribe didn''t have a single fehl sura below the Archon rank, all carrying out tasks for the Sura Queen. But unlike what some might expect, the adjacent castles to the queen''s palace didn''t house the councilors. They rested in two-storied stone mansions, leaving the castles for the Blood King''s Fehl Legion.


    Concrete and roadways replaced the past lush ground, with bustling districts forming within the royal tribe. And at the center of the emerging city, a 12 meters tall statue of the Blood King stood beside a 18 meters tall statue of Ashera in all her daemonic glory.


    Leaping across the walls, Kilian and Eleonora sneaked into the castle through a window, gliding past the sura maids to reach a corridor. With his Eye of Revelation, Kilian quickly located the Sura Queen, who''d just stepped into the most extravagant sector of the palace¡ªonly fifteen meters away from the recovering Blood King''s chambers.


    Kilian''s lips curled into a fiendish grin, and Eleonora, who stood at his right, felt his dra stir in patterns even she was unfamiliar with. Like a wolf stalking his prey. Kilian closed in on the Sura Queen and whispered:


    "Fifth Circle Spell: Lust Idol.


    Fourth Circle Spell: Lust Haze.


    Fifth Circle Spell: Lust Rain."


    The invisibility shroud broke, fourteen pink circles formed as, in one breath, Kilian cast three spells of Urag''s infamous arsenal. The golden-statue-shaped Lust Idol appeared and overwhelmed the Sura Queen''s mind while the Lust Haze''s veil of pink fog seeped her pores, making her rosy-white skin flush instantaneously.


    "Despic--" the Sura Queen couldn''t finish the words, dozens of pink arrows stabbed her petite form, robbing all strength from her body. Her mind collapsed to a maddening surge of lust, and as her eyes glazed over, Kilian said:


    "Idol Integration." The Lust Idol''s representation merged with Kilian, turning him into the master and focal point of the Sura Queen. Eyes glazed over, she strode toward him. And unceremoniously, Kilian hauled her onto his shoulder, then turned to face Eleonora.


    With her brows creased, she squinted her eyes at him; as if in that instant, Kilian got a brand-new image in her mind.


    "How despicable. Do I even want to know what you usually use such spells for?" She seriously asked.


    Unabashed, Kilian rubbed the Sura Queen''s back and replied with a broad grin:


    "Don''t misunderstand, this is just business."

 101 There is Only One

    "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all!" The Blood King roared and slammed his balled fists on a stone table, crushing it into debris. Two gaping holes stood in his chest, closing and opening as if following the rhythm of his heartbeat.


    Zog''doroth, the Fehl Noble summoned by the Blood King earlier, stretched his jagged-jaw-shaped face toward his wounded master.


    "There is no shame in losing to a Fehl Lord. If we knew beforehand that Urag could use his Eromancy to make his strength skyrocket, we would have taken better measures. Your Majesty didn''t lose, it is I who failed you," Zog''doroth whispered in the Blood King''s ears. Urag''s ownership of the Mark of Lust was well known among ancient fehls. Though only a Fehl Noble, Zog''doroth''s was by five times Urag''s senior, and a trusted of Ashera. Of course he knew.


    "Still, this may be a good opportunity. Without setbacks, how can there be growth? Your Majesty must transcend such events to master the Mark of Pride. After all, not everyone can be like Her Dominion, born without equal," The fehl''s words were like a scalding poison sliding down the Blood King''s ears.


    Regardless of how much they enraged him, he couldn''t resist the truth.


    "Her Dominion may have chosen you for your intricate connection to the defiant Kilian, but with her support, you''re destined to reach the world''s summit. Who knows, she might one day make you her consort, perhaps even the father of her third child. How glorious would that be?" Zog''doroth rhetorically asked, further squashing the Blood King''s inflated ego.


    Right, all he had came from Ashera. From consciousness to the Mark of Pride, the body aside, he owed her everything. If not for her, he''d still be a storage resource awaiting consumption. He had to be grateful, grateful to Kilian for going astray, grateful to Ashera for having a use for him!


    Such shameful, degrading thoughts, yet he had to be grateful? The words drove him mad with rage, but he couldn''t lash out, he couldn''t go astray, or Ashera would no longer have any use for him. Zog''doroth understood the Blood King far too well and had no intention of letting go of this opportunity to squash all chances of him mastering the Mark. Puppets shouldn''t learn to move without strings.


    "Of course, you must first defeat him. Defeat Kilian through any means possible, achieve what he couldn''t, and become the only one. We will help you, for that is your destiny."


    But as Zog''doroth breathed his poison in the Blood King''s ears, the latter''s eyes widened in surprise.


    "How can this be? He is here?" Ashera equipped the Blood King so he could track Kilian''s position within a 100 meters radius. Thus, as soon as Kilian arrived, the Blood King noticed. Strangely, though he could affirm that Kilian currently stood in his radius, the Blood King wasn''t able to find his exact position.


    With a mixture of joy and unease, the Blood King put his clothes on, and sent a mental message to his 6,666 legionaries, "Surround the castle, the old model has arrived, we mustn''t allow him to escape!"


    At that time, Kilian''s exact position appeared in the Blood King''s mind. A brief change before it once more vanished. Still, the Blood King wouldn''t let that trail go, and like a rocket ball, lunged through the wall. A step slower, Zog''doroth rushed after him, enlarging the hole his "master" left behind.


    The two landed at the spot Kilian stood in a moment before, too slow to see him capture the Sure Queen.


    "The range isn''t increasing. They must be using some form of invisibility spell," the Blood King reasoned as his cold-blue eyes swept the perimeter. Zog''doroth agreed, yet didn''t have the same confidence in the hunt as the Blood King did. If the range remained the same, wasn''t the enemy just waiting for an opportunity to strike? Faking an exploration of the perimeter, Zog''doroth lunged ahead of the Blood King, making sure to "search" at the edge of the 100 meters radius¡ªfarther than his "master" from any Kilian.


    "Kilian, you despicable coward. Show yourself if you dare!" The Blood King roared, nerves beating on his temple.


    A sonic boom came from his left. But by the time the sound reached him, it was already too late. Backhanded across the cheek, the Blood King flew across the hallway, crashing several meters away from his original spot.


    "There is no debate on where I stand on the moral compass. But I''m afraid that it takes more than you to keep me in the shadows," Kilian made his entrance.


    Immediately, Zog''doroth spun to face him, while the Blood King leaped off the ground, somersaulting back to his feet. Stretched by wrath and indignation, the Blood King''s bloodshot eyes nailed Kilian, his nose twitching in an unsightly grimace.


    But when Eleonora''s figure appeared in his sight, the Blood King went from furious to startled, then mad with irritation. Perhaps losing face before the one he''d been conditioned to desire left an extra bitter taste in his mouth. The Blood King''s eyes then fell on the Sura Queen, who obediently stood on Kilian''s shoulder. Fury, frustration and shame now moonwalked in his chest.


    Blood King''s over-gritted teeth were saved by the arrival of the 6,666 fehl troops flooding the castle from various entrances, some forcefully created. Their appearance brought a smile to his now bleeding lips.


    "We will see about that. I didn''t expect that you''d be foolish enough to jump into my castle. Don''t think that you can use the Sura Queen as a shield to secure your escape. There can''t be two Blood Kings. I will defeat you fair and square, forever proving my superiority!" The Blood King exclaimed and summoned a red greatsword.


    Ignoring him, Kilian spread his third eye''s perception to the surroundings, and once assured that alarmed sura elders approached with great strides, returned his attention onto his clone.


    "She was never meant for you, and you''re wrong about one thing. It''s not that there can''t be two Blood Kings." With his left hand still around the Sura Queen, Kilian stepped forward.


    Before the Blood King could react, a massive, jet-black crystal hand smashed into his face, claws piercing through his eyes, forehead and brain.


    "There is only one," Kilian corrected his clone, and with a downward swipe, tore his face off.

 102 Atomic Transmutation

    "AAAAAAAAAARGH!" The Blood King''s shrill howl thundered in the room. According to the intel he''d received from Ashera, by now Kilian should just be reaching the Archon rank. Yet, his speed had already caught up to him, to where a moment of inattention cost him his face.


    Shackled by the Blood King''s internal chaos, the Mark of Pride failed to provide maximum regeneration speed. Blood, torn flesh and broken bones fell from the mangled face, staining the ground as the Blood King rolled out of Kilian''s range to regain his foothold.


    Seeing that Kilian''s movement speed could threaten their new superior, the fehl audience showed mismatched emotions. Amusement, stupor and disappointment filled the thousands of bystanding gazes. Above others, Zog''doroth was perplexed. The Blood King existed to pressure Kilian back into Ashera''s arms, either through the oppression of those he held dear, or by restoring the buried scars of his past. The scenario where Kilian devoured the Blood King and his Mark of Pride was merely a backup plan.


    Ashera herself didn''t expect Kilian to grow so fast that now an Exarch-level foe couldn''t afford carelessness before him. Outpacing even an Overlord''s expectations was indeed praiseworthy.


    "What a pity that you aren''t obedient. What is so wrong with being Her Dominion''s pawn? Is the Eye of Fehl something you can fully exploit? Perhaps you could have truly become the father of Her Dominion''s child," Zog''doroth whispered, shaking his head in disapproval.


    "Not everyone lives for servitude," a melodious voice pulled Zog''doroth out of his false sorrow. Detached by a blade strike, Zog''doroth''s head dropped and rolled on the ground¡ªleaving a trail of acidic black blood behind. The lower end of his reptilian body shook, and as Zog''doroth "faced" the riveting figure about to end his existence, his elongated tongue swayed erratically.


    "Why...why is my body not healing?" Always one to quickly spot the critical matter, Zog''doroth realized that his fehl body couldn''t heal from Eleonora''s blow. Something utterly incomprehensible unless she was¡­his eyes widened in fright, and pushing his fehl dra to the limit, Zog''doroth attempted to hurl his head out of Eleonora''s grasp. Alerted by the disturbance, several fehl daemons'' attention shifted toward Zog''doroth''s floating head.


    What they saw displeased them, and filled with a sense of self-preservation, they put as much distance between them and Eleonora as the Blood King''s orders allowed them to¡ªmeaning that they all dropped on the ground, still surrounding the castle, but from below.


    "Traitorous scum, quickly come help me!" Zog''doroth squealed, but preferring to ensure their survival, the battle-tested legionaries chose to omit half the message, stopping their brains at "scum." Not realizing that he was done for, Zog''doroth kept pushing with his dra, but though his head flew at impressive speed, he never seemed to get closer to the escape road.


    Only when Eleonora''s graceful figure towered above him did he realize that from beginning to end, his head remained at the same spot. If his brain wasn''t separated from his body, he''d probably soil the ground.


    "For eons our camps have been at peace, never interfering with one another. Aren''t you afraid of triggering another Cosmic War?" With no other recourse, Zog''doroth tried the intimidation card.


    "Our camps?" Eleonora arched an eyebrow and aimed her sword at Zog''doroth''s head. Her long purple hair became a plethora of purple snakes that dove toward Zog''doroth''s head and still trembling body. Sinking their fangs in Zog''doroth''s crawling head and body, the snakes started devouring his very existence, the only end for a fehl vs. fehl battle.


    "I''m...how? Aren''t you a...throne?" Though his death approached, confusion still sacked Zog''doroth''s mind. Wounds inflicted by thrones couldn''t heal. As if divine punishment existed in all their blows, thrones could kill anyone or thing. Astral Masters and above could mitigate the force and evade destruction. But those below had no such chance.


    When his body refused to heal, Zog''doroth concluded that Eleonora was a throne in disguise. Why then could she end his life with a variation of the fehls'' All-Devouring ability? Zog''doroth would never have the answer because Eleonora siphoned all his fehl essence¡ªreducing him to ashes.


    She then turned to witness the confrontation between Kilian and the Blood King.


    ---


    Holding nothing back, the Blood King wrapped himself in his blood-red heavy armor. Dra cannons sprouted from his shoulders, all aimed at Kilian. At the same time, the Blood King summoned his full arsenal of Philosopher''s Stones, nine red oval stones he planned to use to push his strength far beyond what Kilian could handle.


    The explosive sound of an artillery discharge followed a barrage of dra beams fired by the Blood King to tackle Kilian, as at the back he channeled the power of the nine stones.


    "Grasp of Avarice: Grand Larceny," Ignoring the dra beams, Kilian aimed his free hand at the clone, dark-green light flashed, and the nine Philosopher''s Stones vanished from the Blood King''s side to appear beside Kilian.


    Three obsidian crystal mirrors formed before the beam barrage, stopping it all with a succession of loud ringing sounds. Snapping his fingers, Kilian summoned the Coffer of Greed and stashed his loot. Since the Blood Kin no longer had a face to show his rage on, he just shook in his armor.


    Wanting to curb his sense of superiority, Ashera didn''t tell him about Kilian''s Mark of Greed. But even if he didn''t know of the mark beforehand, the sin magic he felt surge from Kilian''s palm told him more than enough. Those Philosopher''s Stones now felt like a distance kiss between Kilian and Ashera, with him serving as the intermediary. Regretting his rash trust in the deceitful Overlord, the Blood King was starting to wonder if he ever had anyone on his side.


    For some reason, the Blood King glanced at Eleonora. Discovering that her eyes were on Kilian only, he heaved a bitter sigh, and straightened his posture. The pressure of over 100,000 dra erupted from his greatsword, and at a speed akin to teleportation, the Blood King whirled his sword at Kilian''s neck.


    With his Eye of Revelation activated, Kilian predicted the blow, but rather than avoiding it, he modified the atomic structure of his neck to turn the impact zone into a nigh-unbreakable alloy with enough tensile strength to resist a mountain''s weight.


    The Blood King''s sword bounced against Kilian''s neck. Thrown off balance, he activated his propulsors, soaring toward the ceiling before shifting to his aircraft form. Missile doors and four, three meters long cannons sprouted from various corners of the aircraft as it crushed the ceiling and floor with its sheer size.


    Even if Kilian was a master of Transmutation Magic, such hardness and tensile strength wasn''t possible without a tremendous quantity of dra and focus. If he remained on the offensive, a flaw was destined to show itself. Or so the Blood King initially thought. But regardless of how many missiles or dra beams he fired, Kilian evaded them all, leading the Blood King further down the crumbling castle, while making sure that even dust didn''t graze the Sura Queen on his shoulder.


    It was almost as if Kilian was telling him, "I block if I want to, and dodge if I want to."


    "Is avoiding all you can do? Fight me if you dare!" The Blood King bellowed.


    "If you insist," Kilian replied, and raised his free hand.


    Activating his Eye of Distortion, Kilian isolated the space around the crystals and the Blood King.


    All debris, falling rocks and pillars turned into a myriad of shard-shaped green crystals. The crystals expanded into a rain of green spears that skewered the aircraft-state Blood King from all sides.


    Blue lightning flashed from the multitude of holes, and the aircraft burst into pieces, leaving behind a charred, dropping mess of a wannabe king.


    ---


    Note: Starting this week I''m changing my update style to All I Can Write by Sunday. My schedule is a bit hectic, and I''m also working on a side novel which I''m going to start uploading next week too, so I need to change the update style to give myself more room for maneuver. I don''t want to give an exact chapter count, but some weeks you will have more, some weeks less. Let''s say 5 on average to be safe.

 103 Pride Precedes a Fall Part 1

    "I...cannot accept this!" The wretched Blood King bellowed, but without strength to back them, the words felt hollow.


    "Oh, are you angry, sweetheart? My bad, let me give you a push." But as the clone despaired, an ensnaring voice echoed in his mind, and his scorched lips let out a shrill cry.


    His icy-blue irises vanished, leaving empty white eyes behind. Purple light surged from the Blood King''s blackened form, the crowned skull on his neck shone in that same hue, halting his fall and keeping his body suspended mid-air.


    Before Kilian, the cowering fehls, or the approaching sura councilors could process the scene, the Blood King''s crowned skull vanished, and a bright-gold crown appeared above his head.


    Stirred by the crown, the Blood King''s prime mahana gene kicked in, and the two forces overlapped to push his regeneration abilities to the limit. In the blink of an eye, all the Blood King''s wounds, from the torn face to the burned body, healed¡ªreturning him to pristine shape.


    Raising his right hand, the Blood King donned his heavy armor, this time without a helmet. Like a frenzied zealot singing glorias to his lord, the Blood King''s face overflowed with joy. And with his arms outstretched, he burst into laughter.


    "It''s the Crown of Vanity. With it, as long as a speck of dra remains in his body, he can heal from all wounds, no matter how severe¡ªand is utterly unkillable.


    Worse, although he inherited your pre-death memories, previously the Blood King lacked experience with your prime gene. After all, back then, even you didn''t have a full understanding of your abilities. But now, with the Crown pushing all his skills to the limit, the might of his physical attributes, Dra Reserves, and transformation abilities will also shoot up. Yet, this might be the least of our worries," Eleonora said in a mental message, and Kilian''s eyes narrowed.


    In raw abilities, the Mark of Pride was undeniably the strongest of all Marks of Sin. The same destructive power as Wrath, the same regeneration skills as Sloth, and unique defense skills that made dealing with it a chore. Granted the owner could master it, endless possibilities awaited them.


    The Blood King didn''t. Otherwise, his Crown of Vanity would be purple and not golden. The golden crown meant that a true master seized control of his mark and turned him into a Sin Slave.


    "Ashera''s trick?"


    "Most likely. But even Ashera cannot create a Sin Slave from all the way back to the Fehl Plane. If this is truly her work, she must have an avatar hidden in the Sura Plane. It could be one of those daemons, a fehl sura, a common sura, or perhaps even a member of the human groups. In any case, if only by proxy, she''s here," Eleonora replied.


    When driven against a wall, when their hearts swelled with hatred they couldn''t avenge, when they despaired to save someone they held dear, many humans could trade their soul to the "devil." Preying on those miserable souls, Ashera created countless avatars across the various mortal worlds¡ªusing them to foster cults and use some abilities by proxy. Thus, from the comfort of her fehl throne, she could weave the destinies of all her targeted worlds.


    Knowing that things were about to take a turn for the worse, Kilian hid the Sura Queen in the Hellforge. The Blood King stretched out his arms toward him. But his gaze looked beyond, so far beyond that it seemed nothing could truly exist in his sight. Nothing besides himself.


    "Do you see, sweetheart? Witness your glory. You are your own king and your own subject¡ªthe rightful center of all thoughts. Those that refuse to acknowledge your sovereignty over them err. How can anyone claim being your equal, superior, or worse, your creator?"


    Before the Blood King''s empty eyes, a projection of himself bathing in a blinding golden light appeared and took him in its embrace.


    "Yes, yes! I didn''t lose, I cannot lose. All failures are illusions. My perfection is unbreakable. I have no debt or obligation, and all I desire is rightfully mine!" The Blood King proclaimed and broke into a peal of demented laughter, "Kilian, I, This King, demand that you surrender all you have and vanish from my existence!"


    The Blood King said and turned into a streak of purple light as he shot toward Kilian. His arms morphed into two large, multi-barreled and rotary cannons, each able to fire countless dra beams in one strike.


    The Blood King''s cannon arms split from his shoulders, moving at lightning speed to flank Kilian. And this time, even if the Eye of Revelation could anticipate the Blood King''s moves, Kilian''s body didn''t have the speed to avoid the incoming blows.


    "Aversion Field." Hundreds of dra beams slammed into Kilian from left and right. His third eye switched to a crimson shade, and the Eye of Distortion kicked in, twisting the space around its master so that all beams narrowly avoided him.


    But if Kilian could escape their wrath, others weren''t as fortunate. Before the councilors'' astounded eyes, the beams rained on the suras'' royal tribe, slamming into unprepared men and constructions alike.


    Explosions succeeded one another, with billowing smoke clouds and weeping souls. While Kilian could redirect attacks with space vortexes, they possessed a load-bearing limit. The Blood King''s salvo would have shattered them all, triggering an even more disastrous result.


    Self-satisfied, the Blood King closed on Kilian and kicked at his neck. And as it neared its target, his armored leg became a sharp sword.


    Snap!


    Instead of the expected surge of blood, Kilian''s body burst into dozens of crystal shards that surrounded and smashed the Blood King. Disdaining to block, the Blood King let the shards strike. But the invisible sin aura surrounding him rejected their presence and sent all the shards flying back to reform into Kilian.


    In that instant, Kilian realized that with his current strength, the Blood King was a match for most mid-level Exarchs. Even if Kilian could take ten low-level Exarchs, a sizable gap remained.


    That being the case, it was time to play chess.


    "Daemonic Wolf Form!" Emerald flames surged from Kilian''s fehl heart, black fur grew around his skin, and his size increased to nearly three meters while his ears, face and shape changed to become that of a werewolf-like creature. With glowing green eyes, jagged fangs and elongated claws, Kilian faced the Blood King''s relentless strikes.


    Below, seeing the destruction wrought by the two opponents, and the absence of their queen, the councilors burned with rage aimed at both Kilian and the Blood King. However, better than anyone, they knew that once they unleashed their spells, the situation would only get worse.


    Moreover, the Blood King came by Ashera''s will. How could they assault him?


    "Let''s set up protective charms."


    The councilors came to an agreement, and raised barriers to protect their own.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, a certain individual spread news that the Sura Plane hid an invincible fortress, that Kilian had already gotten the key, but might soon lose it in the royal tribe.


    The von Skolls, the hunted students, Klaus'' Crystal Lords and the unaware technocrats, all received the intel and assembled teams to scout the truth. Bolder than the others, the strongest contenders directly headed toward the royal tribe, arriving soon enough to witness the culminating point of the clash between Kilian and his clone.

 104 Pride Precedes a Fall Part 2

    Trapped between an oppressive artillery and a maniacal warrior''s sweeping blows, a demonic wolf moved at extreme speed, avoiding what he could and deflecting the rest through subtle space disruptions.


    While the Blood King''s attention remained focused on Kilian, the latter stayed alert to his surroundings and immediately spotted the arrival of several figures. Familiar with most, the wolf flashed an amused grin and deflected another incoming strike.


    "Is that supposed to be...Kilian?" Ayden, the crown prince, squinted at the ongoing clash. Equipped with a golden power armor engraved with the von Skolls'' white-sun emblem, Ayden''s abilities could rival a top Archon. But before the ongoing clash, he felt no confidence.


    At his right, Hanns, the headmaster, who wore a similar armor, frowned.


    "Since he received our ancestor''s Full Bestowment, turning into a daemonic wolf isn''t unreasonable. However, I didn''t expect that his true strength had already reached this altitude. Without the bloodline advantage, even if we combine all our forces, we can''t win head on," Hanns appraised.


    An experienced magus, he could see that although Kilian remained on the defensive, his strength and speed had already surpassed lower-ranked Exarchs. The opponent was even more dreadful, with abilities that''d make some sitting members of the von Skolls'' elder council shiver in fright. Never in his wildest dreams could Hanns expect that the usual excursion to the Sura Plane would turn into such an uncertain battlefield.


    In the shadows, Klaus'' Crystal Lords'' eyes moved between Kilian and the Blood King.


    "His Grace said that if we see the one with the Junior Duke''s looks embroiled in a deadly clash with the von Skolls'' Kilian, we must transfer every bit of the confrontation back to Kars. Doesn''t this mean that the new Kilian is our dead Junior Duke? In that case, should we intervene?"


    One of the Crystal Lords asked the team captain who, for a second, remained silent.


    "As usual, we do our job and ask no question. Even if the Junior Duke somehow escaped death and stands before us, without His Grace''s orders, we cannot help him."


    ¡­


    "A monarch should always hold a rebellious subject''s execution before the masses, lest they forget the price of challenging his authority. Now that we have a complete audience, your death...is more meaningful." Though a step shorter than Kilian, the Blood King too felt the gathering. However, in his eyes all were petty peasants brought to bask in his glory and witness the rebel''s sentence.


    But as his foe''s ego broke world records, Kilian summoned the nine Philosopher''s Stones he''d robbed from the Blood King, and took control of the atoms surrounding them. Binding and manipulating the atoms'' structure, Kilian condensed 300 crystal shards around the Blood King that once more locked him from all corners.


    "You think the same trick can work twice? Presumptuous! Even if I stand motionless, you cannot injure me!" The Blood King sneered, and focused his all on the offensive, letting his Pride deny all of Kilian''s crystal shard strikes.


    Eleonora aside, it soon became obvious to all onlookers that even if he could count on tremendous dra, Kilian''s determination shrank with every round. In contrast, the Blood King only grew more aggressive, pushing Kilian back until faced with supreme defense and offense, he had no choice but to escape.


    Turning heels, Kilian attempted to rush out of the Blood King''s range. But in that instant, the Gatling guns returned to the Blood King''s shoulder and morphed into long swords. As if all along, he''d been waiting for this opportunity to take Kilian down, the Blood King''s strength and speed exceeded another limit, and he lunged into his most hated foe''s back, stabbing the fehl heart and forcing it out of Kilian''s chest!


    Blood gushed from Kilian''s skewered chest. Without his fehl heart, his life-force dwindled at a rapid pace. His appearance reverted to his human shape, and death seemed ready to welcome him.


    "Hahahaha!" The Blood King rejoiced. Finally, he''d proved his superiority and replaced the old model. From now on, there would be no Kilian other than him! Next he''d take the Fortress, leave the Sura Plane, crush Klaus, and conquer Arcadia!


    The world was his!


    But the smile on the dead Kilian''s lips disagreed. Over 1200 arcane circles surrounded the Blood King, and a voice rang in his mind:


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Atomic Flare."


    In that instant, a barrage of over 300 fourth circle spells, 300 atomic bombs worth of might, slammed into the Blood King''s unprepared form. His Mark of Pride''s Denial ability kicked in, rejecting the barrage. But as all forces across the universe, the Marks of Sin relied on one thing: dra.


    With this one move, the Blood King''s dra shrank to zero. So while he successfully canceled the nuke, the die was cast.


    Snap!


    Before the Blood King and onlookers'' dumbfounded eyes, the blade piercing Kilian collapsed into metallic debris, and the skewered heart tumbled down.


    "Mhm!" As if waking up from a long sleep, Kilian stretched his stiff neck, for a moment ignoring his clone''s stupor. Then with a spin, he turned to face him.


    "Confused? It''s fine. This is the moment when the evil mastermind reveals his plan. But in this script you don''t get to reverse the tables.


    I admit that you are stronger than me. Knowing that, how could I follow you into a brain-dead muscle fight? Once the bitch activated your goliath mode, I modified the structure of my body, switched my fehl heart to the right and created a fake heart with outwardly similar traits at the left.


    I then led you into stabbing the fake heart and shut down my body functions while surrounding you with nanocrystals. No one told you that I can now cast spells through crystals, right? My bad, in another life, maybe I will warn ahead of time. But for now¡­"


    Kilian chortled, and aimed his right hand at the Blood King. Too dazed to move, and without dra to sustain his flight, the Blood King dropped toward the ground.


    "What a despicable creature." The Blood King''s final words before Kilian wrecked his brain, obliterated his consciousness, and sealed him in his coffer of greed.

 105 Awakening of Sinhold

    With all the resources invested, both from Ashera and himself, Kilian couldn''t bear destroying the fine specimen, planning to devour him at a later date. Satisfied, the Mark of Greed and Eye of Fehl stirred, silently reaching new levels.


    At that time, the Sura Plane shook under unprecedented tremors and a dark-purple light column shot into the sky. All eyes turned toward its origin and witnessed the emergence of an ancient, jet-black fortress so large that regardless of where they stood, all could see it.


    A hypnotic call spread around the Sura Plane, driving the weak-willed toward the fortress'' doors.


    Over one kilometer tall, the fortress appeared like the devil''s residence, breathing thoughts of depravity into all that glanced toward it. From its doors came a drawbridge that stretched and buried itself in the ground¡ªwelcoming everyone into the fortress'' corrupt halls.


    Kilian''s face twisted into a frown. With the Sura Queen in his hands and the councilors under his nose, why was the fortress rearing its head? Wasn''t the key in the suras'' hands. Moreover, although not fully independent, the castle seemed animated with a will of its own, enabling it to spread its influence toward the weak-minded.


    "It''s Ashera''s lingering will. Before robbed the fortress from her and sealed it for the suras'' sake, Ashera managed to impart it with a trace of her will. It seems that over the ages, that will not only didn''t vanish, but grew increasingly stronger. My guess is that it feeds on a vast source of fehl corruption, perhaps ancient legions buried just in case by Ashera to maintain her hold over the Fortress.


    However, if she could control it, it''d have long since returned to her side. If anyone can reach the control center before the Fortress forms an independent consciousness, they can suppress its budding individuality and take full control," said Eleonora who appeared at Kilian''s right.


    "Urag, meet me inside the Fortress."


    Realizing that someone had already outpaced him and seized the key from the fehl suras'' hands, Kilian wasted no more time, gave Urag a mental order, and alongside Eleonora, rushed toward the focus of his greed. Others had similar reactions.


    "We can''t allow such a terrifying relic to fall into Kilian or the technocracy''s hands. Otherwise, the von Skoll dynasty''s 3,000 years of hegemony will end in this era," Ayden declared, and alongside Tristan and Estrella, raced toward the Fortress. Agreeing with the words, Hanns followed them.


    Unwilling to let such a force fall into the outsiders'' hands, the sura councilors readied to join the fray. But before the spectacle of 297 exarchs'' erupting dra could alarm all sides, an amethyst crystal formed before them, and Kilian''s voice resounded.


    "As long as you stay put, your queen is safe. But once you join the race for the fortress, I cannot guarantee that she won''t fall to some unexpected accident," Kilian said, and instantly the councilors halted all moves.


    "Despicable!"


    Curse as they might, the councilors didn''t dare put their queen''s life at risk, and begrudgingly chose to stay put. With the strongest force kept out of the game, Kilian had more confidence in seizing the prize. But when he thought of the one capable of forcing 300 exarchs to hand over the key, that confidence turned into doubt.


    "Could it be¡­"


    Below the Astral Master rank, there was only one person Kilian could think of with the strength to force the suras into submission. Perhaps with her link to Ashera, she even managed to hasten the Fortress'' awakening?


    A matter for another time. Faster than the others, Kilian and Eleonora first landed on the drawbridge and dove in. Bjorn arrived a step later, followed by the von Skoll and technocrats group. Across the Sura Plane, all surviving students and countless lower-ranked fehl suras hurtled at the den of sin. Strangely, as if protected by a foreign force, none of the uncorrupted suras felt the Fortress'' hold.


    Or perhaps it just couldn''t breed vices into those that didn''t have any to begin with? In any case, thanks to its appearance, the Sura Plane no longer had non-suras on its soil¡ªat the exception of Kilian''s six aistis who remained sheltered by their master-servant bond.


    ¡­


    Inside the fortress, high purple walls of a foreign mineral appeared before Kilian. But before he could appreciate the scenery, one after the other, the key contenders made their entrance.


    Clad in a golden power armor, Bjorn landed before the Kilian-Eleonora pair and blocked their advance.


    "Fehl creature, long time no see. Even my best estimations failed to accurately gauge your current strength. Impressive," Bjorn said as the von Skolls and technocrats entered, while staring at Kilian''s dreadlocks from behind his visor.


    A strange glint flashed in his eyes, and he attempted to send Kilian a mental message. Kilian too did the same, and both were thus the first to realize that within the Fortress'' walls, all mental connections were severed.


    Led by Esther, the technocrats, undeniably the largest group, banded at Kilian''s left. The von Skolls at the right, the Crystal Lords behind, and last but not the least¡­


    "Woohoo! Isn''t this the legendary fortress of hidden bitches? Ma boys, get ready to wreck some holes!" Leading a legion of lust-oriented daemons, a dwarf swaggered in, fists raised at the ceiling.


    But once his eyes met Kilian''s back, Urag''s overflowing enthusiasm died down.


    "We''re here to support my exalted son-in-law in his conquests, Garth you fucking son of a bitch. How can you speak of wrecking holes before my daughter''s man? Are you trying to corrupt him?"


    Urag blamed the previous words on a confused imp and smacked him for good measure.


    "Boss, even if you want to cheat the world, you need to be reasonable. We don''t even have the same voice. How can you blame me?" Garth inwardly cursed. But dared not expose his boss.


    From the technocrats to Kilian, black lines stretched all faces¡ªat the exception of Esther, who just restrained a chuckle.

 106 Master, You鈥檙e Too Heartless!

    "Now this is the type of fella I want in my team. Almost makes me want to switch my allegiances," Ayden clapped at Urag''s entrance, showing his approval with firm nods. At his left and right, Estrella, his lover, and Tristan, his most loyal friend, both pursed their lips in disgust.


    "Kilian, ma man! Missed me? Give me five!" Eager to make amends, Urag rushed toward Kilian, and raised his hand for a high five. A cold breeze welcomed him. And feeling the myriad of gazes surrounding him, Urag broke into a cold sweat.


    "Come on man, there are like 50,000 people here. You can''t do this to me." Urag tugged on Kilian''s sleeve with his left hand, as the right hanged in the air. Reluctantly, Kilian met Urag''s hi-five, but still avoided the imp lord''s gaze.


    Seeing that the situation wasn''t entirely desperate, Urag brought out his killing mace. Snapping his fingers, the imp lord produced pink-colored sparks from which three captivating figures emerged. But while the first two still needed time to adjust, once she laid eyes on Kilian, the green-eyed brunette directly leaped toward him.


    "Master!" Lena trapped Kilian between her arms. And sobbed with warm tears. Instantly, Urag felt proud and elated.


    "There ain''t any problem you can''t solve by summoning three barbies. Why am I so damn clever?" Urag jerked his shoulders and moonwalked out of Kilian''s reach. But as his self-satisfaction peaked, a chilling aura locked him from all sides, and Urag felt as if a soul-piercing glare stood at his back.


    Alarmed, the imp lord swept all faces, old and new, yet didn''t find the source of those eyes.


    "Why do I feel like I just fatally offended someone I should have not?" Urag scratched his head in confusion, unaware that he owed this little disturbance to Eleonora''s stare. While she''d learned of Kilian''s girls from the "disloyal" Inyoka, Eleonora silently hoped to spend as much alone time with him as possible. How could she expect that a second after they stepped into the Fortress, the damnable imp lord would summon three barbies to distract her husband?


    The audacity!


    What a pity that she had to remain gracious. Or his head would now stand on a pike. Meanwhile, Tamara and Anke stared at Kilian''s eyes and face. But though similarly startled, different thoughts troubled them.


    "That time in the Banquet Hall, I already felt something was wrong. But the more I look, the more oppressed my heart feels. Why? Those eyes...those eyes¡­" Although he belonged to the Technomancy Department, as freshmen, Kilian and Anke did share a few classes in Arcane Theory. However, Kilian avoided her gaze, and she didn''t seek his. Therefore, following that brief eye contact before the examination and Dra Root Testing, they had no exchange.


    At first, Anke had simply tossed Kilian on the list of Kilians she had to kill to sate her fehl madness and relieve her heart''s sufferings. But the more she looked at this new Kilian''s eyes, the more her beloved''s figure overlapped with him.


    But how could this be?


    Tamara''s thoughts were simpler. Eye color aside, the man before her was like an enhanced version of her fallen brother. Even if everything in her screamed to take revenge, when confronted with Lukas'' figure, how could she strike? And as the two daydreamed, Lena''s complaints poured forth.


    "Master, how could you just abandon me in the middle of nowhere? You''re...too heartless," Lena said, sniffling between the words. Though she could guess that Kilian wanted her to have a taste of the Sura Plane''s dangers, her hellhound instincts found the separation insufferable.


    But knowing that Lena''s grief was just about to break through new levels, Kilian didn''t coax her yet. "Wait, wait, wait for it¡­"


    Feeling an unfamiliar female scent, Lena checked her surroundings, and saw a goddess-tier woman standing at Kilian''s right, with a bright, welcoming smile aimed at her. Instantly, Lena''s senses summed up the situation, and realizing that her master not only ditched her, but brought back a new competitor, she was so distraught that she no longer knew if she should cry or bite¡ªa memorable scream followed.


    "There." Seeing that the situation had reached the critical point, Kilian pressed Lena against his chest, and gave her head a few pats. But as the surrounding factions were starting to feel extra, the ground and walls shook under unexpected tremors, and an authoritative female voice boomed throughout the fortress.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Fortress of Vices," Instantly, the competitors'' attention left Kilian to seek the origin of the voice. But it didn''t take them a minute to realize that the voice...was the Fortress itself.


    "If you''re hearing this message, it means Hel, that bitch, managed to steal my treasure and toss it at some worthless wretches. However, how could I allow the greatest achievement of my life to fall into the hands of any Tom, Dick, or Harry?" The voice, Ashera''s voice, began, and as others just paid attention, Eleonora''s eyelids twitched, while Esther raised a thumbs up.


    "To ensure that my baby is obtained by someone I approve of, I tweaked this place and split it into 14 zones, 13 orbiting zone 0¡ªthe control center. Whoever can reach the control center first and engrave their name on its stone tablet, will become the new master of my Fortress of Vices.


    Problem¡­" Ashera''s voice trailed, holes opened in the Fortress'' walls releasing purple gases that filled the entrance hall, and spread throughout the fehl lair. Immediately, those with shallow willpower or low Dra Control could feel their minds vacillate, and fell to irresistible illusions. Worse, a collection of horrible devices, spiked coffins, cockstretchers, brazen bulls and worse, emerged from the walls.


    "This is a place designed for the debauched to live in Heaven. Here the most determined of monks and nuns reject their vows to embrace a life of lust and decadence. My many legions and their Lords ensure that visitors such as you learn to adapt. And from now on, you can only grow by having sex. Between you or with my daemons, men with women, men with men, women with women. It doesn''t matter, we don''t discriminate here. But if you fail to resist my legionaries, I get to steal your souls by proxy.


    More details once you reach your zone. By the way, you don''t just get lol-rifted, you have to claim your spot. And there is only one way¡ªahead.


    Best of luck. Have some fun. And remember, Ashera''s courtesy." The voice stopped here, and while the hallucinogens buffeted their faces and tempered with their senses, an orb of sinful energies flashed before the struggling contenders. From that orb, 600 naked daemonic figures emerged, crowding the halls with their infernal sex appeal.


    Incubi and succubi, Fehl Nobles of the highest caliber, now stood in the hundreds, greeting the confused contenders with lecherous glares.

 107 Untimely Seperation

    The daemons'' presence seemed to resonate with the hallucinogens, intensifying the pressure on the five camps. Camps, sort of. Von Skoll, Technocrats, Kars, Bjorn, and Kilian. Of the five, Kars'' group was no doubt the strongest. Strengthened by Klaus'' Throne Blood, the Crystal Lord Armors now approached a quasi-Exarch tier. And since those 300 were dispatched to retrieve Anke from Exarch-level hands, it went without saying that not any Exarch could deter them.


    If not for his deathly loyal and immortal legionaries forming a barrage, Urag would have been forced to give Anke up. Next came Kilian''s group, with several Exarch-tier magi, and a legion of Fehl Nobles. Bjorn, who empowered by the Imperial Academy''s Dra Reactor could now rival a mid-tier Exarch in brute force, but lacked the matching Dra Control. The Technocrats who lacked Exarch-tier magi, and the von Skolls who came without solid numbers. For once, the imperial family''s members experienced the feeling of standing at the bottom of the food chain. But on this occasion, no one was in the mood to mock them.


    "Hahahaha! Hahahaha! Hahahaha!"


    Frenzied laughters came from the technocrats and von Skoll groups as several of their members lost their minds to the Fortress'' hallucinogens and crawled toward invisible masters and mistresses. Watching her troops fall to the profane lair''s tricks didn''t erase Esther''s smile. On the contrary, it never looked more dazzling.


    The 600 corrupt daemons stretched out their hands, making the dozens of collapsing men fly toward them. Unable and unwilling to resist, they landed before the daemons, and without an ounce of restraint, hugged and licked their new masters'' thighs. This bleak sight awoke all to the severity of the situation. Some considered taking the way out, but the portal closed behind them, preventing departures and new entrants alike.


    "If the voice is to be trusted, behind those 600 lies the door to the 13 zones. Infighting at this juncture serves no purpose. Kilian, armored giant, why don''t we temporarily join hands to cleave open a path out of this shithole," Ayden stepped out of the von Skoll ranks and offered both Kilian and Bjorn. Now an Archon and equipped with the von Skoll Dynasty''s Crown Prince Armor, Ayden eclipsed most top-level Archons.


    But the situation before him wasn''t something Archons could solve. In the von Skolls'' camp, only Hanns could deploy Exarch-tier strength. To avoid getting gang-raped by an army of lust-oriented daemons, Ayden was more than willing to compromise. However, their replies crushed his hopes.


    "You are not necessary," Bjorn stated. Kilian just flashed Ayden a "looking forward to your death" smile, then shifted his attention back to the 600 daemons. Unlike the daemons living in the 13 zones, those 600 had been trapped as gatekeepers for tens of thousands of years.


    Driven mad by boredom, they now only lived to sate their base cravings, and saw the new entrants as a god-given feast. Spreading their infernal wings, the 600 lunged Kilian''s group¡ªturning into purple streaks of light around which Arcane Circles flashed.


    At the forefront, Kilian raised his right hand, and the Distortion form of his Eye of Fehl kicked in.


    "Aversion Field," Kilian whispered, and though they initially seemed to aim at his group, the hurtling daemons scattered toward the von Skoll and Technocrat camps¡ªclawing at the nearest dazed magus they could get their hands on.


    "Ladies, let''s go." While dreary screams echoed at his back, Kilian held Lena and Eleonora''s hands, then stepped forward. A formless path opened before him, a path on which those he didn''t approve of ended up shoveled against the walls. If seeing Tamara in Kilian''s grasp bothered him, Bjorn didn''t show it, and taking a more brutal stance, rushed toward the purple orb.


    "How conceited," getting trapped in a melee with hordes of lust daemons competing for human booty in a narrow hallway didn''t make Ayden''s heart particularly excited. But while he assumed that since Bjorn dared come alone, he must have the strength to face unexpected challenges¡ªthat speed burst still startled him.


    In this generation of human magi, since when did he start falling behind?


    "Uncle, we can''t afford to get tangled up with daemons. The strong follow, the weak stay behind, let''s go," Ayden ordered and Hanns approved. Too fast for the human eye to follow, the leading von Skolls'' hands moved in mysterious gestures, and amber-colored circles flashed around them.


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Nuclear Flare!"


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Fractal Discharge!"


    "Fourth Circle Spell: Radiation Overload!"


    "Fifth Circle Spell: Thermonuclear Blast!"


    Without a care for the consequences, Ayden, Tristan, Estrella and Hanns each unleashed their strongest spells¡ªtriggering a succession of wide-ranging nuclear disasters that reduced many of the surrounding daemons and technocrats into ashes. However, knowing that the fehls would instantly reform, the four rushed after Kilian''s group¡ªwhich had already stepped into the orb.


    Likewise, the 300 Crystal Lords bombarded their way through the fehl troops, ignoring the daemons'' screams of delight to step into the purple orb. When only she remained, Esther snapped her fingers, and as if suddenly awakened from eons of madness, the daemons stopped their reckless torment of the abandoned magi to kneel at half-eldar''s feet.


    ¡­


    Through the Eye of Revelation, Kilian could see that the purple orb was nothing more than a teleportation device setup to rift the contenders to the various zones. However, in her grand perversion, Ashera ensured unity and equilibrium.


    Thus, Kilian, Lena, Anke, Tamara, and Urag, all landed in the same spot. Eleonora and the Legion, however, were no longer in their ranks.


    A city built in stones of an immaculate white now surrounded the party. Fresh air, apparently devoid of the previous pollution greeted their noses. But recalling where they stood, none dared let the appearances swindle them.


    Human-looking men and women dressed in stainless white robes crossed the streets. Without exception, each had a jug of wine tied to their waist, and a necklace of golden grapes around their neck.


    Above Kilian''s group members, light-green bars with "100" written at the top, took shape. And again, Ashera''s voice echoed in the party''s mind.


    "Congratulations, you got Zone 13 and the Bacchanalia."


    ¡­


    At that time, Eleonora appeared in a dark cavern lit only by the extreme clash between a purple-skinned daemoness and 12 Fehl Lords. The winged daemoness'' face snatched all of Eleonora''s attention, and confused, she blurted:


    "Ashera?"

 108 You鈥檙e Far too Young Part 1

    Be it in figure or stance, the resemblance was astonishing. However, a second after her initial stupor, Eleonora realized that the daemoness before her couldn''t possibly be Ashera. Though remarkably gifted, she didn''t have the strength, and lacked that autocratic air, that followed Ashera wherever she went. Wielding an obsidian spear, the daemoness stabbed three of her opponents'' hearts with lightning fast thrusts and beheaded them in a sweeping cleave.


    Usually, such wounds couldn''t threaten a daemon''s life, but in the spear undulated an immeasurable force that latched on and siphoned every bit of the Fehl Lords'' essence¡ªdraining them till they vanished from existence.


    The siphoned force poured into the daemoness'' body, boosting her dra and thaumaturgic abilities.


    "The Spear of Mazdan," recognizing that spear at a glance, Eleonora no longer had any doubt on the daemoness'' identity. A blood-red whirlwind formed at her right, and from it Ailith, Eleonora''s huntmistress, emerged.


    "I didn''t expect that after Mazdan, Ashera would have another child. I wonder what top-ranking Fehl Prince managed to earn that much favor from her," Ailith said while standing ready for a battle. Unwilling to waste her time with Kilian speaking of other women, Eleonora didn''t ask him for details regarding the harem members, and therefore didn''t know that the fehl girl Inyoka warned her of was Ashera''s daughter.


    The two''s abrupt arrival didn''t go unnoticed. Jezebel cast them a lopsided glance, then returned her focus on the nine remaining Fehl Lords. After leaving Kilian, Jezebel returned to the Fehl Plane, visiting her elder brother''s domain to borrow his most prized weapon.


    Mazdan''s spear was crafted from Ashera''s bones and blood, forged to devour the essence of those it struck at the fastest speed possible, and transfer it to Mazdan. With it he slew and devoured countless rivals, accomplishing many meritorious deeds for his mother. In the final years of the Fehl-Throne war, that spear claimed more than one of Hel''s subordinates'' lives. How could Eleonora forget it?


    But perhaps Mazdan himself could never imagine that his most beloved sister would use his spear to ransack their mother''s ancient fortress. Those Fehl Lords certainly didn''t see it coming. And still couldn''t imagine why, while the first person to break into the Fortress after all those years bore their mistress'' looks, without a word, she''d aim for their lives.


    Before Eleonora''s arrival, six of them had already fallen. Solidarity wasn''t a fehl virtue, but after spending those millennia trapped together, they developed inalienable bonds. Seeing their partners fall like fleas, those Fehl Lords'' daemonic eyes burned with rage! To no avail, of course. Even if ten more assembled before her, Jezebel didn''t need more than a minute to behead them all.


    And behead she did.


    Without spells, relying purely on physical prowess, her form blurred across the dim cavern, closing on and cleaving her foes before their fehl senses could even process her blade''s trajectory. The spear didn''t even spare their blood, taking everything they held in to empower its wielder.


    But as Jezebel''s thaumaturgic abilities progressed by leaps and bounds, Eleonora''s silky purple hair morphed into dozens of voracious snakes. Outpacing Jezebel, the bulky snakes constricted and pulled the seven surviving Fehl Lords toward their mistress. Their fangs sank in the unprepared Lords'' necks, siphoning their essence at an even more alarming speed than Jezebel''s spear did.


    By the time she turned to face Eleonora, the seven Lord-level snacks were gone. Like the spear previously, the snakes transferred the siphoned essence to Eleonora, greatly boosting the recovery of her lost strength. Annoyed, Jezebel arched an eyebrow, and spear in hand, stepped toward Eleonora.


    "I''m curious. It is well known that Ashera heavily dotes on her own. The closer the bond, the more sheltered they become. Unless she changed in the last millennia, as her daughter, you should be one of the most, if not the most treasured individual of her court. Why would you take Mazdan''s spear to come slay those loyal to your mom?" Eleonora asked, folding her arms below her chest as she confronted Jezebel.


    "None of your damn business. Who the fuck are you?" Jezebel countered, tilting her head to the left while she eyed Eleonora from head to toe. Jezebel may not know all the Fehl Lords spread across her homeworld, but those able to dispatch seven Lords in an instant? She could name them all with no pause.


    Yet, Eleonora''s appearance triggered nothing in her memories. Worse, from her Jezebel couldn''t feel the thaumaturgic level of someone near the Prince rank. It was almost as if Eleonora''s strength ebbed and flowed. Or that she could command power far beyond what she should own.


    "A man, perhaps?" Ailith, by Eleonora''s side, probed, and if only for a second, Jezebel flinched. The change didn''t escape Eleonora''s scarlet eyes, and her lips curled into a mesmerizing smile.


    "Interesting. Like mother, like daughter. To avenge the death of her husband, Ashera rebelled against Fehl, connived with the ruling thrones, and convinced the other Overlords into fixing the seal¡ªthereby preventing the return of the one true Devil.


    But likewise, for the sake of a man, her daughter is rebelling against her. Impressive. What a pity¡­" Eleonora''s cryptic words trailed, and an aura of scarlet light shrouded her form.


    "...that you are too young. The true depth of your mother''s powers is not what you can comprehend. Even if you devoured all the Fehl Lords of the Fortress and took control of the center, you cannot challenge Ashera. At most, you will use the Fortress as a mortal spaceship, and your newly gained powers as the battery to shelter that man in the mortal plane.


    To truly deal with your mother, we need ancient ones like me," Eleonora declared, and from her, Jezebel could feel a mysterious aura akin to a fehl, yet entirely different. For a second, Jezebel wondered if a Fehl Overlord hadn''t sneaked into the Sura Plane with an avatar.


    But again, that mysterious and threatening feeling she got from Eleonora''s aura told her otherwise. Close to the Fehl Origin, Jezebel''s bloodline stirred, as if that woman''s presence and growth endangered the survival of her species.


    Instinctively, Jezebel raised her spear and took her fighting stance.


    "Let''s see about that."


    ---


    Note: I initially planned 6 chaps for this week, but instead of writing what I needed to today, I used all the day to write more chapters for my other work, Nine Venoms Sect Founder (which I''ve just uploaded on Webnovel this morning and am running for a contest) to reach the 15k word quota by tomorrow. That was very selfish and shameless of me. My apologies. More chaps next week. (Or this week, depending on where you live).

 109 Divine Providence

    As she aimed her spear''s tip at Eleonora, lilac-colored flames took shape and undulated around Jezebel''s form. The ground cracked around her feet, and her lustrous black hair fluttered at her back. However, before Eleonora could meet the challenge, Ailith stepped forward.


    "Insolence. Is my esteemed mistress someone you can casually aim your spear at? Mistress, let me handle her," Ailith offered and raised her right hand. One thousand scarlet vortexes formed across the cavern, and from them emerged the barking heads of monstrous red mastiffs, each more than a match for an Archon, each ready to gnaw Jezebel to pieces.


    However, numbers alone often didn''t make quality. Even if five times these numbers banded against her, Jezebel had no fear.


    "Although your Dra Control far exceeds hers, you haven''t recovered enough of your strength to bring this to a swift end. Take the hounds and track the gate, consume all Fehls on the road, but if you come across one of our own¡­"


    "I understand, they''re off limits," Ailith replied, bowed toward Eleonora, and vanished from the scene. The hounds left alongside her. But while they mirrored the Blood Kins'' typical hunt beasts, in Jezebel''s mind, those hounds and their mistresses overlapped with a painting she often saw her mother admiring.


    The painting of a white-robed woman with flaming-gold hair and eyes, surrounded by a horde of burning feral beasts, with a submissive maid standing by her side. Ashera called that woman "the kindred I had to kill," but better than anyone, Jezebel knew her mother had no relatives beside her two children. Moreover, only thrones possessed flaming eyes and hair. So bright was their gaze that with a glance, they could directly reduce mortals to ashes.


    Why was that woman so similar to¡­


    "I give you one last chance. Back off, and I will spare you," Eleonora offered, but in response Jezebel tilted her head to the right.


    "Will you give up the Fortress?" She asked.


    "Impossible, I want it for someone else." Eleonora shook her head.


    "Welcome to the club," Jezebel said, and like a lightning bolt, hurtled at Eleonora--driving her murderous spear in a frontal thrust.


    "Can''t say I didn''t try," Eleonora said, and stretched out her right hand. A sanguine longsword appeared within, but instead of sweeping it at Jezebel, Eleonora let the spear pierce her throat--or so it initially seemed. A second Eleonora appeared at the initial one''s left, and the victim of the spear thrust vanished in an afterimage. Eleonora raked her sword at Jezebel''s waist, while the hulky purple snakes hissing around her lunged at Jezebel''s eyes, neck, chest, wrist and knees.


    "Time Hold!" Too slow to retreat, Jezebel activated her Arcane Bloodline''s Time Sovereignty, forcing the time flow around Eleonora to a halt. With the gap in dra and thaumaturgic level, Jezebel believed that even if Eleonora could break her hold, she''d require some time. Still, for safety''s sake, Jezebel reduced her flame shroud to protect the targets of Eleonora''s attacks while forcing her body to fight against the momentum of her thrust and sweep her spear at Eleonora--a wise move.


    "Break," Eleonora whispered, and the Time Hold collapsed before it could halt her moves. Unfettered, her sword bashed into Jezebel''s spear, meeting the ancient weapon in a deafening clang while the purple snakes'' fangs clashed with Jezebel''s flame shroud. Avoiding a contest of brute force, Eleonora whirled into Jezebel''s back, and thrust at her bape.


    Pushing her dra to the limit, Jezebel leaped out of Eleonora''s sword reach, but before she could regain her footing, Eleonora appeared at her left, and kicked at her collateral ligament. Knowing she could neither avoid nor block in time, Jezebel gritted her teeth to shrug off the blow.


    Bang!


    From the ordinary kick erupted a strength able to effortlessly split a tree, Jezebel''s knee snapped, but holding the pain in, she shoved her spear at Eleonora''s heart. As graceful as a swan, Eleonora whirled to Jezebel''s right, and hacked at her neck!


    Anticipating the move, Jezebel brought her spear into Eleonora''s trajectory, betting on the weapon''s unrivaled resilience to sap the strength in Eleonora''s move.


    "Break." The same word left Eleonora''s lips, and for an instant, Jezebel felt her body lose all energy. Eleonora''s sword became a tyrannical typhoon that smashed into Jezebel''s spear handle with its full berserk might. Unable to shoulder the impact, Jezebel flew toward a cavern wall and encased herself within.


    "The...Hierarch Break," Jezebel muttered as her body dropped on the ground. As the sovereign masters of dra, Hierarch-level magi possessed many unique abilities, one of them being the Break. With the Hierarch Break, magi could turn their dra into invisible needles to prick through spells, barriers and arcane abilities. If aimed at the opponent, the Hierarch Break would ruin their defenses, rob their strength, and leave them vulnerable to the Hierarch''s abuse.


    Unless they possessed Hierarch-level dra control, no one could resist the Break, and as gifted as she might be, Jezebel was still far from that level.


    "Correct," Eleonora rested the flat of her sword against her shoulder, and casually replied. Although with her current condition she couldn''t freely use the Break, to handle someone below the Astral Master rank, this was more than enough.


    As she already suspected her opponent to be a Hierarch-tier magus in hiding, Jezebel wasn''t much surprised. Sword in hand, Eleonora closed on Jezebel, cleaving at her neck. While her current Dra Reserves couldn''t compare with Jezebel''s, through her incomparably higher Dra Control, Eleonora could put the tiniest bit of dra particle in her body to superb use--enabling her to display terrifying physical abilities.


    However, as the blade neared her neck, Jezebel''s lips flashed a psychotic grin.


    "Sixth Circle Spell: Truth Alteration."


    "Sixth Circle Spell: Elemental Inferno."


    Jezebel''s body and spear split into dozens of light filaments, rematerializing into sixty identical versions each aiming a spear at Eleonora. Six lilac-colored circles flared beside the Nargozi Queen, the ground quaked and the air shrieked as hurricanes, firestorms, tidal waves, earthen spikes and thunderbolts of an unprecedented magnitude barreled into Eleonora from all sides. At their back, the 60 Jezebels stod ready to ram their spears into Eleonora.


    The Hierarch Break had two obvious weaknesses. First, it could only target one point in space. Second, there was at least a one second lapse between each successive use. Even if Eleonora could open an escape path east, the tsunami of destructive arcane might north, south and west would reduce her to ashes.


    And if by any miracle she could survive it, the sixty spear wouldn''t miss their target. But as flames, thunderbolts, wind blades and more readied to obliterate her, Eleonora''s gaze hardened. Her snake hair became serpents of golden flames while her scarlet eyes too burned in a blinding golden hue.


    "Divine Providence," Eleonora said, and the last thing Jezebel saw was a magnificent flash of golden light that instantly erased her spells, offenses and defenses, sealing her in a cage of powerlessness.


    With that one move, Jezebel realized who she faced, and before the Solar Prominence enveloped her, whispered:


    "Fuck, it''s Hel..." Jezebel''s eyes vaporized first, but as her body prepared to follow them into nothingness, Eleonora''s face twisted into a frown--and she shut her eyes--forcefully stopping Jezebel''s extinction.


    Though spared from an irreversible death, Jezebel didn''t have any strength left to hold her spear and fell face-first.

 110 Price of the Providence

    "That''s not possible. Hel is dead. How could you gang up with her?" Urag leaped on a table for a better viewpoint and asked Kilian who sat on the other side. Following their arrival in zone 13, Kilian''s group received the guidance of several ladies dressed in white stolas, who led them toward an inn where rooms had already been reserved for them. Tamara and Anke in one, Kilian and Lena in another, and the third for Urag only. But to fill in the imp lord on their attack plan, Kilian brought him into his room.


    Puzzled by Eleonora''s origins, both Urag and Lena asked Kilian about her, but could never foresee that his reply would be: "Well, she''s my legally wedded wife, and most likely the former ruler of the Throne Plane."


    More confused than anything, Lena stood motionless, blinking at Kilian while Urag''s beady eyes stretched to extreme lengths. Refusing to accept such words, Urag shook his head.


    "Although Hel''s downfall happened some time before my birth, it doesn''t add up. Just like the Fehl Plane must have six sitting Overlords at all times, the Throne Plane must maintain the same number of Seven-Wheeled Thrones, or Baals as they call them. The six Baals maintain the plane''s balance, and we know all their names. If anyone of them fell, or if another one rose, the Throne Plane would now be facing crushing calamities, triggering a cosmic domino effect we??d feel all the way here¡ªin one form or another," Urag said.


    "Third Circle Spell: Memory Transmission," Turning toward Lena, Kilian gently tapped her forehead, feeding her brain with all relevant information. As she processed them, he lowered her head on his lap and shifted back to Urag.


    "Since they planned to overthrow her, Hel''s subordinates must have had a successor to her seat ready. So the problem isn''t in the Baal count. But what if in her escape, Hel lost her Hierarch-tier powers? Or better, what if her current form transcends the typical throne definition? Can''t she become the exception to the rule?" Kilian argued.


    "To be honest, Eleonora''s every word, knowledge and deeds are silent admissions of her true identity. She''s not even trying to hide it, but rather makes me form the answer through the clues she gives bits by bits. That she used to be Hel is an unspoken truth between us. But what is she now?" He mumbled the last words as Urag stroked his beard, lost in thoughts.


    "Man, you got bigger balls than I expected. You actually dared wed the herald of massacre and make my girl compete with her? Are you trying to cheat Jezebel out of her life?" Urag closed in on Kilian and asked with an increasingly louder tone. Their foreheads almost brushed, and for the first time since they met, Kilian could sense a genuine mixture of anger, unease and fear lace Urag''s voice. Who could believe that the imp lord also had such a side to him?


    "Let me be blunt. Although Ashera is known as the most depraved creature of all eras, the crown of savagery undoubtedly goes to Hel. Hel is the first to postulate that if you can neither pacify nor tame order-disturbing worlds, you should outright eradicate them. For God''s sake, she invented genocide!


    Word is that she was completely nuts, had no care for her life, fought as if every day was her last, and could risk anything to achieve her goals. Even Ashera feared her! Worse, it is well known that thrones have an incomplete emotional spectrum and cannot feel love. After realizing who she was, why didn''t you flee?" In frustration, Urag stomped the table he stood on, barking at Kilian.


    The boogeyman of all fehls, from Daemon to Prince, there wasn''t anyone Hel''s name didn''t fill with dreads. Hel created many of the species that now exist to balance the rise of other races, such as the chiropterans that prey on humans. She strengthened the cycle of prey and predators, making sure that all species nature forgot to balance would at least have one beast at their back.


    However, as he''d learned most of Hel''s deeds from Eleonora, Kilian merely shrugged.


    "That being the case, what about her final war? Why did she put an end to the Fehl-Throne war and saved the suras from extermination? People change. People evolve. It doesn''t matter if you''re human, fehl or throne. With the right events, a 180 turn is entirely possible. I don''t know Hel, but have full confidence in Eleonora."


    Kilian often felt that Eleonora was the most similar to him, a lost child that lived on a programmed script but found her way out after many years of wandering. Turned speechless, Urag softened and stepped back.


    "There is much we don''t know about the last war. What we''re certain of is that King Haldir''s sacrifice stirred something in Hel. Since then, her blade lost its sharpness, and she slowly withdrew from her leadership role¡ªgiving Ashera the opportunity to plot her downfall. In any case, since you trust her, I have nothing else to add," Urag said and leaped off the table.


    "Don''t worry, I have a 90% sure theory of how the current Eleonora came to be. She probably just t--" a coughing fit broke Kilian''s words, making him spit jets of blood on the table.


    "Master!" Alarmed, Lena lifted her head from his lap, pressed her palms against his chest, and injected her dra to map out the damages¡ªhowever, she couldn''t find anything.


    "The heck?" Confused by the sudden turn, Urag too checked Kilian''s condition, and while he failed to find anything, vapor poured out from Kilian''s eyes. Before Urag could crack the mystery, Kilian''s pupils turned cloudy white, and he lost his sense of sight.


    But as Urag and Lena fell to confusion and fright, a forced smile stretched Kilian''s lips.


    "Well, I can''t say if this is good or bad news but...Urag, your girl is here."


    ...


    Following an unknown time of unconsciousness, Jezebel awoke, but without her sight, a pitch-black world awaited her. Using her other fehl senses, Jezebel realized that she currently stood on someone''s shoulder¡ªEleonora''s shoulder.


    "Why...did you stop it...why didn''t you kill me?" she asked in a barely audible tone.


    "Each time I use my Divine Providence, I must first take in all of my foes'' experiences. Back when I ruled as Hel, that didn''t bother me much. But now things have changed. My heart is not the same, and your life is not important enough that I''d risk a certain someone''s grief just to claim it," Eleonora casually replied.

 111 Shoulder Your Reality

    Since the Fortress of Vice''s early activation, Kilian considered the possibility of Jezebel''s presence. However, his failure to sense her seemed to disprove his assumptions. That, or the zones existed in separate dimensions¡ªpreventing him to use the Fehl Bond to locate Jezebel. But if barriers interfered with the link, why was he still suffering from the rebound? She couldn''t be far; she had to be here.


    In this Fortress, how many people or things could deal Jezebel such injuries. Wrong question, how much danger was she in? Did she win? Was she safe? Where was she? The questions rattled Kilian''s mind, and closing his now useless eyes, he activated his Eye of Revelation peering as far as he could while attempting to break all illusions if they existed. Failing to get results, Kilian narrowed his target to the surrounding walls, dark-gray light swirled in his third eye, formless forces clashed with the atmosphere to shred all masks of deception.


    He could feel it, the so-called zone 13 was an isolated dimension connected to and controlled by the Fortress. But as he clashed with the barriers, images that didn''t belong to this zone flashed in Kilian''s mind. Bjorn hiding a miniature Carmen in his sleeve and hacking through hordes of fehls. Ayden, Tristan and Estrella sitting beside a lake, facing an uncanny daemon that sat crossed-legged above the water surface, and other blurred images that gave Kilian the impression...that his zone overlapped with others. Or perhaps, everything was false, all zones were one, but the current level of the Eye of Revelation prevented him from seeing the truth.


    "Urag, after I tie some loose ends, the two of us will leave for the Bacchanalia and must find the gate as soon as possible," Kilian said, and used his Transmutation skills to restore his eyes'' amber color, preventing others from realizing their current blindness. With sweat trickling down his forehead, he closed his Eye of Fehl¡ªand without further explanations¡ªwalked out the room, leaving Lena and Urag behind. With no time to probe news or argue, they could only exchange worried glances. But as they both held functionable brains, they quickly reached the same conclusion.


    "Jezebel is in danger..."


    ¡­


    Tamara and Anke''s room stood at Kilian''s left. With no announcement, Kilian shoved the door open and walked in. Suppressed by Urag''s magic, neither could use their abilities and seemed as helpless as average human girls. Ignoring Anke, Kilian walked toward Tamara''s bed, facing her with no ounce of gentleness.


    "Greetings, Tamara. I hear you want to kill me? That''s pretty troublesome, now, isn''t it? How are we going to handle that?" Kilian asked in a direct yet playful tone. If not for those amber eyes and the glint of insolence sparkling within, Tamara could deceive herself into thinking that this youth was her adored brother. But he wasn''t, and everything in her mind screamed to take revenge against that impostor who robbed her beloved''s identity and destroyed her family.


    "Kill me if you dare! Every second I breathe is another chance to take your life, and believe me, as long as the opportunity presents itself, I will not miss it!" Tamara spat, but at the left corner of the room, Anke remained silent, studying Kilian''s expressions with rapt attention. Tamara''s threat seemed to stir something in Kilian, a conflicting mixture of pity and annoyance.


    "Usually, I would do just that. Why waste time and energy trying to save a girl intent on deceiving herself? You''re not particularly useful to me. If anything, I''d call you a liability," Kilian began, and closed in on Tamara, placing his hands on her bedsheets, "Unfortunately, in a moment of weakness, I made a deal with your brother. A miserable fellow, I must say. Threw himself into a life of contracted murder to put food on the table for his worthless sister and mother. Forced himself to endure his abject father because the weaker two couldn''t bear slaying him. Where did that get him?" Kilian whispered in Tamara''s ears, and as if his every word kindled something in her mind, she trembled in fright.


    "I don''t even need to check your brain or use my Eye of Revelation to find the truth. Forceful memory re-assembly damages the mind and cognitive abilities. Unless the Technocrats developed a cutting-edge method, you can''t possibly be in such a flawless shape. There is only one explanation: You wanted to forget. You wanted to escape the truth, regardless of the means. It didn''t matter to you that they''d redirect you at an innocent target.


    As long as you could forget how your father cracked open your wailing mother''s head with a brick, as long as you could find a culprit to all your pains that didn''t involve your relatives, everything was fine!" Kilian said, activated his Eye of Revelation, and clasped the quivering Tamara''s head between his hands¡ªforcing her to stare into his third eye.


    "But I won''t have it! Why should I allow you to use me as the scapegoat for your own sins? Your weakness, your indecisiveness, your pathetic clinging to destructive bonds ruined your brother''s life! They prevented an outstanding talent from finding his place in the world, and made him suffer a death that''d fill factory pigs with envy!" Kilian spat, the dark-gray light of Revelation swirled in his third eye, breaking down the barriers Tamara allowed the Technocrats to plant in her mind.


    "No...no...noooo! Stop! This isn''t true, this isn''t true, you''re lying....liar! Stop¡­please!" She squealed, but Kilian wouldn''t stop.


    "Do you know what his last words were? Kill my father, bury my mother and save my sister! Even as he burned to death on the Desolate Knife Cult''s altar, your brother still could only think of you two, and knew exactly what awaited you. Can you imagine his grief, knowing that his mother wouldn''t survive him, and that without his protection, the best his sister could hope for was a life of slavery? Even in death, he couldn''t find peace!


    Blood ties are worthless. All bonds are hammered through nurturing. Who cares that he''s your father? If he''s a threat to those you love¡ªyou gut him¡ªit''s that simple. Your brother understood that truth, but because he knew that making the right move would forever haunt his relationship with you two, he didn''t dare. Everything that followed stemmed from this point.


    If your father died early, he would have never joined the Desolate Knife Cult, your family would have found a way out of the slums, and your mother...would still be alive. So don''t you dare blame me! And shoulder your reality!" Kilian''s face twisted into a fiendish look, and the Eye of Revelation broke all that remained of the Technocracy''s brainwashing¡ªforcing Tamara to regain her true memories.


    Her pupils dilated, and she screamed, such a shrill and mournful cry that Anke felt as if thorns were growing out of her ears.


    His work done, Kilian dropped Tamara on the bed, and as she convulsed unceasingly, he tilted his head to the right, casting a lopsided glance at Anke.


    "Been a while since I played the devil''s chap. Almost forgotten that I sometimes lose myself in the role. Right, Anke?" Kilian said, and in an absentminded move, Anke rose from the bed.


    "It''s you...Kilian, it''s really you."

 112 Welcome Back

    From the moment Urag summoned her at the Fortress'' entrance hall, Anke was skeptical. Between the von Skoll Kilian and her deceased love, she could spot many similarities, so much in fact that she wondered if a miracle of reincarnation had not occurred before her. However, several things didn''t add up.


    In the previous Kilian, 99% of smiles were deceptive, and 99% of people didn''t matter. To survive his brutal upbringing in Kars, Kilian slaughtered many would-be assassins and many more "aristocratic threats" to Kars'' progress, ensuring that by the time he reached adulthood, he''d turned into a remarkable trickster and efficient killing machine.


    That Kilian didn''t have enough space in his heart for over five people. In fact, Klaus'' destruction seemed to occupy 90% of that space. And the Duke often joked that the world would be hard-pressed to find a more filial son than Kilian. Because if he died early, Kilian wouldn''t survive him. If not for those rare moments of genuine tenderness, Anke would have been of the same thought.


    But the current Kilian was entirely different. There were people around whom he could relax, a man he could shake hands with, and women he held on to. And while he kept some of his bad habits such as coercion and manipulation, they seemed to have turned into selective tools for swift problem solving, instead of a way of life. A plethora of questions went back and forth in Anke''s mind and, confused, she stepped toward Kilian with an unsteady, wobbling gait.


    "I''m afraid that nowadays, no one else dares use that name," Kilian jested. Anke''s eyes glazed over, and as if the words bypassed her ears, she raised her trembling hands toward Kilian''s face¡ªtapping his forehead and cheeks like a blind woman trying to match faces. The dazed, confused look turned into a bright smiling face, Anke''s hands dropped on Kilian''s neck, and the smile twisted into a hysteric grimace.


    But even as Anke''s grip tightened around Kilian''s neck, he didn''t struggle or attempt to evade. The strength gap between them was such that even if he stood still, she couldn''t claim his life. Worse, Kilian smiled at the move, and the harder Anke pressed, the more pronounced his smile became.


    "While Klaus'' Compendium of Killing Arts states that you should always aim for crippling or vital parts, I believe choking your target barehanded was never part of the recommended methods. If you really want to do this, I can give you a few tips. Aim for my heart. Gouge it out and crush it¡ªif you can. Nothing else works." Aiming one finger at his chest, Kilian leisurely said, as if Anke''s grip had absolutely no effect on him.


    The words forced Anke out of her trance, and relaxing her hold, she dropped on her knees¡ªshedding silent tears.


    "I''m not very good at this. And my time is running thin, so I won''t beat around the bush. I wish I could tell you that I''m sorry, and given a second chance, would have done things differently. However, there is nothing more absolute than the past. Back then, Klaus represented an insurmountable gap between you and me. As long as it was linked to him, the best I could do was¡­to not loathe it. Moreover, he does nothing without ulterior motives. Neither my brain nor my heart could possibly accept you," Kilian said, and crouched before Anke.


    "I''ve seen through your memories with my Eye of Revelation and didn''t expect that Klaus would treat even you in such a wretched way. But even if I knew of your Fehl Mutation early on, what could I do? I never gave you hope, but you wouldn''t give up. Either you clung onto the tiniest show of care, or you found someone to blame my indifference on. You could forgive anything I did and shove all your frustration on some unfortunate soul. That is not love, but a relentless obsession driven by pure madness. If not because I enjoyed your company in my own twisted way, I''d have killed you a long time ago," Kilian straightforwardly said.


    Those thoughts had been trotting in his mind for years and were the reason why he once told Lena and Jezebel that he might one day have to kill Anke. While he now had a serum to suppress the Fehl Madness, Anke''s psychological issues started elsewhere. No one could guarantee that her human madness wouldn''t outlive the Fehl Taint. So, unless he fully rewired her, Kilian couldn''t say for sure what the future held in store.


    More importantly, Anke was strong. Not as strong as him, the Blood King or Bjorn. Not as strong as Ayden, Hanns or the rest, but strong enough that on one impulse, she could trigger many disasters. Worse, on raw thaumaturgic talents, she outpaced 99% of all those Kilian knew. Given time, Anke was destined to become a mighty Exarch...and perhaps go beyond.


    But instead of the expected rage and outburst, curving her lips into a disarming smile, Anke raised her moist eyes to face Kilian and said, "Welcome back."


    Taken aback, Kilian blinked at Anke with an incredulous look, and as if she read through his thoughts, she went on:


    "I know that back then, there was that tiny part in your heart that enjoyed having someone utterly devoted to you¡ªno matter how insane she might be. You didn''t want to lose that bond and didn''t care for those I threatened, so...you just let me run amok.


    But now things are different. You don''t need me anymore and have people you must protect from the likes of me so...before you shake me off...I just want to say...Welcome back, Kilian. And thank you¡ªfor being alive."


    The words came with a smile so pure and sincere that for the first time in a long while, Kilian didn''t know how to react¡ªand so just stood still.


    ¡­


    Leaving Anke and the half-broken Tamara behind, Kilian walked back to his room, but at the gate, stopped and recalled Anke''s words. In that instant, Kilian couldn''t help but think that the gap between Klaus and him wasn''t as large as he previously thought. Just like Klaus often used him to fill a strange void, he used Anke¡ªnever realizing the abuse he put her through.


    But now that he realized his own misdeeds, what should he do? Sighing at his inner struggle, Kilian pushed the door handle and returned to his partners'' side.

 113 The Queens Surrender

    Back besides Lena and Urag, Kilian laid down the attack plan.


    "First, the Fortress of Vice fuels all its occupants'' bodies with rising levels. The lower their willpower and Dra Control, the more vulnerable they become. However, only those at the Astral Master level or above can outright ignore the effects¡ªnone of us have reached that tier.


    Fortunately, we have Urag. For the duration of our stay, he will periodically use his Lust Magic to empty our group''s lust bars and feed his Mark of Lust. However, if everything goes according to plan, we shouldn''t be here for more than a few days," Kilian started, and seeing that he''d suddenly turned into the mainstay of the faction''s survival, Urag stuck his chest out, struggling to hide his pride and elation.


    "Hehehe, yes boss!" The imp lord replied with a military salute. Ignoring his obvious delight, Kilian went on.


    "Second, we''re severely lacking in manpower. From the moment we arrived, whoever rules this zone has been aware of our presence, and even had those gals ready to welcome us. What level are they at? Low, mid or top-level Fehl Lord? What about their legions'' strength? If it comes down to it, can we take them on? I doubt it. At least not with a straight fight.


    Since those daemons were, for all intents and purposes, abandoned by Ashera to watch over her fort, we can assume that they aren''t the cream of the crop among her legions. But at the same time, they must all have attributes matching this place''s rules¡ªfehls that get their high from extreme decadence, and are therefore most vulnerable to Urag''s Arcana. I believe that some of them must possess similar abilities to Eromancy. But even then, their nature and fehl high will leave them vulnerable. With the proper bait and arrangements, we can capitalize on that."


    The Bacchanalia invitation already told a myriad about the type of events the people of zone 13 indulged in. As an earthling, Kilian learned much about greco-roman culture, and knew that Bacchanalia plus fehl could only mean drunken orgy. However, he couldn''t understand why a zone predating all civilizations on Earth used a Latin name for its revelry¡ªnot that he cared.


    Snapping his fingers, Kilian summoned the Sura Queen from the Hellforge, making the dazed ruler stand between Urag and him. After many probes, Kilian realized that his connection with the Hellforge overrode all the shackles of this zone, enabling him to summon things and people he kept stored there.


    "Hi, Sura Queen, I know you must have many questions, but we don''t have time for that. Long story short, I captured you, nuked the Blood King, used your life to suppress your councilors and dragged you into the Fortress of Vice. You have five seconds to process my words and accept the fact that you''re at my mercy," Kilian started, and if at first the words seemed too ludicrous for the Sura Queen to accept them, recalling the barrage of lust-inducing magic that overpowered her mind and consciousness, she was forced to accept Kilian''s words.


    Alert to the tiniest detail, the Sura Queen realized that Kilian seemed in a rush, and that, assuming all his words were true, the wrong words would land her into a serious mess.


    "What do you want?" She asked after pulling in a deep breath. Satisfied by the prompt adjustment, Kilian nodded in approval.


    "You might not realize it yet, but the whole Fortress is a place of lust and debauchery. In a few minutes, my partners and I will leave for the Bacchanalia¡ªhoping to find a way out. However, we might have to wrestle with an army of sex-crazed daemons, at least of the Noble rank. According to my estimations, their leader should be a mid-level Fehl Lord. Needless to say, the situation is far from pleasant. But if you''re willing to play the bait at a critical juncture, by combining your abilities and ours, we can turn the tide," Kilian offered. As a mid-level Exarch, while she recently received her powers from Ashera and didn''t have the time to explore them all, the Sura Queen was a reliable ally.


    Unfortunately for her, Eromancy was at its strongest when used against the opposite gender. Thus, either Kilian or Urag could suppress her. When the two joined hands, she couldn''t escape. Of course, the Sura Queen knew nothing of that, and thinking of how Kilian planned to turn her into a juicy lamb for a pack of hungry wolves, she couldn''t restrain her outburst.


    "And what else? Will you also have me parade myself naked across the street? Maybe I should start by warming up your bed? Boy, stop daydreaming," the Sura Queen spat, but never expected Kilian''s next words to be:


    "If it must come to that, yes, I expect you to cross the street with your tits and ass hanging loose. As for my bed, that''s optional." To say nothing of the Sura Queen, even Urag and Lena couldn''t believe their ears and exchanged doubtful gazes¡ªwondering if their boss hadn''t been replaced by a doppelganger.


    "You¡ª"


    "Not me. You. Please understand that you''re flanked by two people both able to turn you into a braindead cum-drinker with a few arcane gestures. The one at your back is, in fact, the true master of that craft. I''m not asking you to assist me because I need your consent. It''s a courtesy." Kilian cut the Sura Queen mid-talk, stifling all protest she might have had.


    "While I don''t approve of your current path, I understand that when faced with either the destruction of your species or Ashera''s cradle, you had to choose Ashera. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn''t have chosen the path of certain ruin either. Still, the fact of the matter is that your choice threw the majority of your brethren into a brand-new level of hell. Hell you were ready to ignore, so I had to do a lot of your job for you. Had to feed and shelter your people from external AND internal threats. Therefore, I expect immediate compensation.


    If you won''t pay your dues, we will have to do this the hard way and feed you to a literal army of voracious daemons with no tenderness in store. Your choice." Met with Kilian''s ultimatum, the Sura Queen blinked in disbelief, and after weighing her options, turned to face Urag.


    The imp lord''s beaming and expectant face awaited at her back. And seeing Urag rub his hands with "hehehe" sounds, the Sura Queen wondered if the most immediate of dangers wasn''t at her back. Alarmed, she spun toward Kilian, forced a smile and replied:


    "How should we sign the agreement?" Satisfied, Kilian drafted an inviolable greed contract and secured the Sura Queen''s temporary allegiance.

 114 The Cursed Pair Makes its Move

    While Kilian and his peers tackled the Fortress'' Zones, Klaus sat in his study¡ªstudying the last transmissions he received from his crystal lords while the bleeding head of an old man floated beside him. Anke and Jezebel could have recognized him as Alaric von Rulweil: Anke''s grandfather, and Jezebel''s father while she posed as Viscellia von Rulweil. After Urag successfully escaped with Anke, Klaus snuck into the Grand Duke''s domain, and following a grim battle, captured him. But as soon as Urag brought Anke to Kilian''s side, Klaus exhausted the old dukes'' extra lives, and beheaded him.


    By the time Klaus had analyzed the last bits of the transmission, a whirlwind of amber light had appeared at his right, and from it, Niklas emerged. For once, the emperor''s eyes didn''t immediately lock on his beloved son, instead staring at Alaric''s floating head.


    "Don''t worry, he was weaker than he should have been. Something must have happened before my visit, so I didn''t sustain as many injuries as I should have," Klaus shifted his eyes toward Niklas, unsurprised by the sudden visit. But for a second, the emperor seemed dazed, and blinked at Alaric. The Grand Duke of Rulweil was the only non-von Skoll Exarch known to the Arcadians. Though a mid-level Exarch, he possessed many unique abilities that made dealing with him a chore. However, that Klaus could kill him wasn''t what intrigued Niklas.


    "I dare say that I understand your goals and motivations better than anyone, but this time, I''m confused. Why did you kill him?" Niklas seriously asked. The murder of Alaric von Rulweil was a grueling, thankless task that brought no benefit whatsoever. His prestige among commoners and nobles alike reached a near-mythical level, and his death was sure to throw the world into more chaos. Did they not have enough trouble on their hands? Why add this one to the list? Such a move went against Klaus'' thought process¡ªpreventing Niklas from making sense of the situation.


    Standing up, Klaus stepped toward Niklas, and pressed his right hand on his forehead. "Third Circle Spell: Memory Transmission," Klaus transferred all relevant memories to Niklas, enabling him to see all the information the crystal lords gathered on Anke and Kilian till they stepped into the Fortress of Vice and lost the ability to transfer their data.


    "You already told me that the damnable brat survived and is¡ªthat¡ªKilian. And from what I''m seeing now, his current progression speed outpaced all our expectations. All the better. At the end of the day, when you bring him into the Altar of Eternity, the stronger he is, the more likely you are to succeed. Unless you''re trying to trigger a certain chain of events, I still don''t see anything that justif...hateful fiend." Niklas'' eyes widened at the realization of Klaus'' true motive, and the latter returned to his seat.


    "But more importantly, we need to force the technocrats to make a bold move, and the nobility to despair. Alaric''s death is a free flag they can use to, at last, split Arcadia into two factions: Pro and Anti von Skolls, Imperial vs. Aristocrat.


    You will get the blame for the old man''s death. In fear, all nobles that haven''t already will submit to the Technocracy and unite for a brutal war. There is no room for hesitation, because if you can kill Alaric, none of them are safe. Once driven to breaking point, men rebel, and this war will not only see the end of all aristocratic houses, but may enable us to find the Technocrats'' main base. We can then destroy them before they carry out their plan. That would be for the best," Klaus explained, and Niklas was forced to admit that he didn''t see those moves coming.


    Again, Klaus proved as callous as paradoxical. Why did he need to push Anke back into Kilian''s arms when, from the start, he was the one ruining them? Perhaps, knowing that his death approached, Klaus wished to straighten the life of a girl he loved but ruined for his heir''s upbringing?


    Stretching out his right hand, Klaus gathered his dra, and cleft open a space gash toward the Sura Plane.


    "However, while all this brews, there is one thing I must personally deal with. We can''t allow Kilian to obtain the Fortress of Vice. Because once he does, he will have enough strength to challenge us both. At that point, even if he learns of the Altar''s meaning and location, he will have no reason to brave its dangers, and can just attack us instead. This makes everything I''ve put him through pointless, and I will not stand for it. Therefore, I must join the race for the Fortress, and claim it before he does," Klaus declared, and his gaze hardened. Niklas could count all the times such a look appeared on Klaus'' face and knew there was no point dissuading him. So he just went along.


    "That being the case, I must join you. Can''t let you burn your remaining lifespan before the Altar''s gates open, can I? Otherwise, everything I''ve put you through will also become...pointless." With a gentle smile, Niklas emulated Klaus'' words. Of course, they didn''t have the same meaning. Klaus spoke with a sense of purpose, whereas Niklas''s tone only carried bitter regret.


    "Didn''t you plan to invade Nargoz?"


    "Their queen left, which makes the invasion pointless. In fact, from what you''ve shown me, she left to find her husband. All the more reason to head there," Niklas argued.


    Neither could dissuade the other, so the first two of the cursed lineage walked toward the portal, and stepped into the Sura Plane to compete with their junior.