Cultist of Cerebon - Litrpg/Isekai

All four of Vidhatri’s eyes snapped open the moment she awoke, adrenaline flooding her body the moment she regained consciousness.

There was a common Skill among high-leveled [Fleshwarpers] that allowed them to intentionally modify their brains. Vidhatri had used the Skill to augment her adrenal gland, causing it to trigger upon awakening. She wanted to ensure that she would never be lethargic upon awakening, always ready to respond to any threat or situation that required her immediate attention. The young leader of the cult she was currently guiding had expressed his envy of this ability, but didn’t trust anyone aside from himself to make modifications to his brain.

An unnecessary caution on his part, but still likely a wise one. Vidhatri had done things with the brains of her enemies that would turn the stomachs of even the most hardened [Fleshwarpers].

Vidhatri turned her attention to the sensory organs that she had spread around her chambers, various eyes and ears tethered to her body by thin tendrils of flesh. The eye placed near the window allowed her to see the desert sun slowly rising above the horizon and casting its light on this strange city. Meanwhile, the ear by the door alerted her to the residents of the spire slowly stirring as they prepared to begin their day.

Zareth’s apprentice, Tamir, was already on the ground floor and performing the morning service as was his duty, leading the cult’s early risers in prayer.

Focusing on the chambers belonging to the spire’s [Cultists], Vidhatri was gratified to discover that they were empty. This indicated that they were already awake and prepared for the day ahead as she had ordered. Today was a significant day for them and the cult at large, and she would have punished them if she had found them to be lax in their readiness. Perhaps not as severely as she would have if they had dared to do such a thing in Dehkshetra as she doubted that Zareth would tolerate such measures.

Satisfied with her inspections, Vidhatri rose from her bed and prepared to give her prayers to the god who had saved her life, which she preferred to do alone. The moments when night transformed to day or when day transformed to night were the best times to pray to Cerebon. There were some among her fellow faithful who forgot that the Weaver of Sinews held dominion over transformation as much as he did over flesh, but Vidhatri was not one of them.

After approaching her chamber’s window and kneeling in the direction of the rising sun, Vidhatri spoke the same prayers she’d recited every morning for two decades.

“Praise be yours, Weaver of Sinews and Harbinger of Change. May your will forever guide your chosen worshipers to their ever changing paths.”

Vidhatri spent the next fifteen minutes praying, then another half an hour in meditation. Serving the god of transformation necessitated more introspection than most realized, and meditation was an indispensable method of avoiding personal stagnation. Her experiences since arriving in Tal’Qamar made this period of reflection all the more important, as she had been heavily affected by everything she had seen.

It was all far more confusing than she would have liked. Vidhatri forced away the traitorous wish that the Flesh Father had chosen anyone else but her for this assignment. Unfortunately, Vidhatri was the only one with the ability to both protect herself and rapidly learn the region’s language, due to her possession of [Parallel Mind] and [Perfect Recall].

Such Skills were usually exclusive to either [Mind Mages] or individuals who achieved a very high level in a knowledge-based Class, but Vidhatri’s… unique history made her an exception.

There were other people with these Skills among the Dehkshetra temple, but none of them had Vidhatri’s experience in combat and were too valuable to risk being sent to another continent. While Vidhatri herself was far from a disposable novice, the temple would not be overly inconvenienced by her loss.

However, she was certain that the temple would have placed far greater importance on this place had they truly known what she was going to find.

Cerebon’s cult in Tal’Qamar worshiped Vidhatri’s god in ways far different than she had ever heard of or experienced. The [Raja] of Dehkshetra would gleefully cull or expel every worshiper of Cerebon in the city if he could truly do so without severe consequences, while the authorities in this dry and sandy lands actually supported the cult’s presence.

Naturally, the circumstances of each city were vastly different. Zumair was a continent in a state of near constant conflict and Dehkshetra was a city that had been thoroughly molded by that experience. Without the power granted by sapient sacrifices, Tal’Qamar's cult would have already been destroyed had they been located on Zumair.

This desert was relatively peaceful in comparison, with the region’s monsters kept suppressed by its elementals and war only just breaking out recently.

Her time in Tal’Qamar had been one of the most peaceful periods of her life… at least as far as she could recall. Her memories prior to becoming a member of the Dehkshetra temple were vague, as that was before she acquired [Perfect Recall], but what she did recall made her sincerely doubt that there was anything among them worth preserving.

Vidhatri lightly shook her head as she forced those thoughts away, refocusing on her immediate goals.

Today was significant for the young [Cultists] who had fallen under her tutelage, so Vidhatri rose from her meditative position and quickly reabsorbed her extraneous sensory organs, the tendrils retracting smoothly as they merged with her flesh. Wearing the same non-descript robes she’d been wearing when she arrived in Tal’Qamar, she exited her chambers.

She largely ignored the wary expressions of the spire’s occupants as she approached the common room, long since accustomed to being feared by the weak. It was of no consequence. So long as they did not work against the Weaver of Sinew’s interests, she cared little about the opinions of others. Especially not the opinions of people with so little faith that Vidhatri barely considered them her compatriots.

It was only because she recognized how relatively new the cult was in Tal’Qamar and how much they had yet to learn, that she tolerated their presence at all. Once the common room was in sight, Vidhatri paused and took a good look at the sight before her.

Meldorath’s Heart had finally spread its influence beyond the laboratory and to the spire’s lowest public floor. The cult had reacted with predictable confusion at the stone beneath their feet turning into flesh, but Zareth had quickly calmed them and explained the benefit that it provided their cult. Now they seemed relatively comfortable with the situation, as expected by the God of Flesh’s servants. Vidhatri had advised Zareth that he should prioritize taking advantage of the situation and adding more flesh golems to the spire’s lowest floor for defensive purposes, but that took time.

Several of the [Cultists] under her care had shown interest in becoming [Flesh Animators] and focusing on the creation of golems. Vidhatri would nurture that interest and mold them into useful tools for the cult’s future.

Fortunately, this place was not entirely devoid of potential or those who had already begun to grasp the true essence of their faith.

Vidhatri’s mouth slowly curved into a smile as she spotted one such individual lecturing a shame-faced young [Cultist] and decided to continue her descent. She was fond of Onara as the human had shown herself to be devoted to Cerebon. Vidhatri had even gone so far as to inquire about potential Class Evolutions for the human in her most recent letter to the Dehkshetra temple.

Deciding to see what had drawn the ire of the [Seamstress], Vidhatri approached the scene quietly.

“What’s wrong with you, lass? There ain’t a chance I’m letting you be presented to the public for the first time looking so shabby,” Onara admonished as she inspected the [Cultist], a lizardkin girl by the name of Saurika who was wearing the cult’s new ceremonial garbs.

While the young [Cultist] had obviously rushed when donning the garb, Vidhatri had to admit that Onara had done well when designing them. The garbs themselves were somewhat similar to those worn in Dehkshetra, being long flowing robes that reached down the ankles, but with a distinct Tal’Qamari flair.

Rather than the dark reds and blacks favored in Vidhatri’s home, these garments were a light purple reminiscent of the twilight sky. It was complemented by one of the local headdresses of the same color and adorned with a modified version of Cerebon’s insignia across the back, a central eye encased in a circle with six equally spaced protrusions moving opposite the direction a shadow would travel on a sundial.

It was only the eye that had been added to Cerebon’s insignia, obviously referencing the gift bestowed on Zareth that was quickly becoming associated with this cult.

Aside from the garbs, the [Cultist] had also begun etching several patterns into her scales after acquiring [Permanent Flesh Manipulation] in preparation for this day. It was an acceptable show of devotion, and Vidhatri found herself nodding in approval as Onara used a Skill that instantly adjusted the ceremonial garb.

“There you go. You’ll not disgrace our god with your shoddy appearance,” Onara said after she finished inspecting the lizardkin girl.

“Thank you, Seamstress Onara. I meant to be more careful, but I was in too much of a rush after waking up this morning,” said Saurika, smiling toward the older woman. “I… never had anyone teach me how to properly wear anything this fancy before.”

“It’s not a problem, lass. This little cult of ours needs to stick together,” said Onara, her expression growing warm. “Now go on then. The rest of the [Cultists] are eating breakfast. You better join them before people start flooding into the spire.”

The lizardkin girl expressed her gratitude one final time and hurried away to the dining area, hastening her steps when she caught a glimpse of Vidhatri.

“Your attention to detail is commendable, Seamstress,” Vidhatri said as she approached the elderly human woman. “Both in your design of the ceremonial garbs and in how they are worn. This cult is fortunate to have your skills and dedication.”

Onara smiled warmly and the compliment, a trace of pride in her eyes. “It’s my way of serving, Senior Fleshwarper. Haven’t felt this useful since I was a young girl. More people in Tal’Qamar see Cerebon’s grace every day. It’s an honor that my work will be the first thing people see when they arrive to be treated by our [Cultists].”

Vidhatri studied the [Seamstress] for several moments and saw nothing but a sincere dedication to their cause. It made her feel at ease to be in the presence of such devotion when the other members of this cult were so lacking in that regard.

Vidhatri and Onara spent the next several minutes in genial conversation as they discussed the day ahead. It was only recently that the [Cultists] had all acquired [Permanent Flesh Manipulation], which opened many options to the cult that they didn’t have while the Skill was possessed by its leader alone.

Zareth’s time was valuable, and he was wise enough to understand that he shouldn’t waste it offering his services to every misbegotten soul in Tal’Qamar. Instead, he focused primarily on matters that could best further the cult’s interests such as his experiments or more recently on research.

Regardless, this meant that the cult could now offer its services in bodily modification and healing to a much wider population as a means of expanding its influence. Within a few hours, the spire would be open to anyone in Tal’Qamar who wished to receive these services.

Vidhatri felt that it was an… interesting tactic, though not one that could have worked in Dehkshetra given their reputation.

“Hopefully, Zareth actually got enough sleep last night to be well-rested for today,” Onara said once their conversation drifted to the cult’s young leader, her expression filled with concern. “I know that the lad’s been chosen by our god to spread Cerebon’s teachings through Tal’Qamar, but he could really learn the concept of moderation.”

Vidhatri couldn’t help but hum in agreement. Zareth was rather focused on his personal projects recently, which Vidhatri would normally encourage, but not when she was left ignorant of much of his activities.

When Zareth wasn’t in his laboratory creating new tools for Tal’Qamar’s military, his attention was on the flesh golem he had placed in a location unknown to her. It was only after multiple inquiries that he revealed to her that the golem was located somewhere that it would allow him to research ‘several important matters.’ Vidhatri was not yet trusted enough to be told what those important matters actually were, so she would simply have to defer to Zareth’s judgment for the time being.

Vidhatri didn’t like it. Nor did she like how much Zareth seemed to trust the handsome lizardkin heathen. While she had been tasked to aid the boy in his endeavors, the Flesh Father had also instructed her to form an honest evaluation of Tal’Qamar’s cult. For what purpose, Vidhatri wasn’t certain. But that wouldn’t stop her from achieving her objective.

“Tell me, Seamstress. What is it about Zareth that causes you to be so concerned for him?” Vidhatri asked, deciding this was an excellent opportunity to learn more about this cult’s workings. “Out of everyone else in this spire, I can sense that it is you who are the most in tune with Cerebon’s teachings. I assume that you must have some reason for this.”

Onara was silent for several moments, her expression suddenly solemn and she considered what to say. When she finally responded, it was with a voice filled with melancholy.

“There used to be a time when I was a member of Suhail’s church, back when I was young. Not all that different from a lot of folks, given that [Suhail’s Boon] helped deal with the sun and made him one of the more popular of the Conclave’s gods in Tal’Qamar. Ma and Pa raised me to worship him, and I didn’t see a reason not to for most of my life.”

Vidhatri normally disdained those who turned away from the deity they’d sworn themselves to, but she kept that to herself. Onara seemed like the loyal type, so the fault likely lay with the heretic god.

“Despite how the folks in charge talk about them now, the Conclave wasn’t all that bad,” said Onara, her expression distant as she thought back on her past. “At least, they never asked for tithe any more often than the [Guardsmen] were asking for bribes. It wasn’t that they were evil, it's just that they got a bit too comfortable and felt entitled to what they had. Folks who live in the Qahtani are used to a rough life, so I never thought much about it. That changed for me a bit over a decade ago when the last famine hit the region.”

Vidhatri recalled reading about said famine while conducting her research into Tal’Qamar, something she had ample time for while sailing across the ocean to this continent. It had supposedly been caused when a group of Adventurers accidentally unleashed some manner of monstrosity in the center of Eldamir’s agricultural heartland.

Tal’Qamar had a sizable number of [Desert Farmers] to supplement its food supply, but a notable portion of its food came from imports.

“Many families, including mine, suffered terribly during that time,” Onara continued, her voice thick with emotion. “The Conclave had been getting worse over the years. Each temple was in competition with another and often just ended up making the situation worse. My husband wanted us to fall in with the Desharin, nomads who had their own ways of withstanding the famine, but I refused. It wasn’t until near the end of the famine that I realized Suhail wasn’t worth my devotion, but my family had already fallen apart by then.”

Vidhatri hummed in sympathy. A woman like Onara with a useful crafting Class could sustain themselves without a husband, but it was clear that losing him had affected her deeply.

“After that, I wasn’t too keen on following any more gods or joining any groups,” Onara said after taking a moment to collect herself, voice carrying a trace of bitterness. “When the Conclave was run out of the city and a batch of new gods popped out of the sands to take their place, I kept my distance. I’d heard rumors before about Zareth and how he only sold his services up in the Heights, so I was surprised when I heard about his cult spending gold to help folks in the slums and decided to attend one of his sermons out of curiosity.”

Vidhatri listened carefully as Onara’s eyes lit up and she explained everything she had felt after going to Zareth’s temple for the first time.

About how Cerebon’s teachings to change and better oneself resonated with her in a way the Conclave never had and inspired her to do better. Onara spoke about how the cult’s members helped her business and provided a communal support that she hadn’t felt in decades. That was especially the case after Zareth healed her son of injuries caused by the Conclave’s agents

Most of all, she spoke about how Zareth truly felt like a Tal’Qamar native, while the Conclave had always divided its focus elsewhere.

She gave examples of this, such as Zareth marking portions of the Slums as neutral areas away from the gangs by painting his cult’s insignia on certain walls or offering to help people start a new life if they wanted it. Vidhatri was old enough to understand just how difficult it was for those with criminal Classes to find work and escape their pasts.

Onara felt like joining the cult while it was still young so that she could help shape its future was the best thing she could do to repay Zareth, and prevent them from becoming like the Conclave.

Vidhatri would never allow such unrestrained decadence to foster among Cerebon’s chosen, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Once Onara had finished speaking, Vidhatri had reached the conclusion that this cult was surprisingly adept at fostering loyalty among members, despite its rather lax policies. She would need to continue monitoring to ensure that loyalty was truly directed toward Cerebon rather than solely toward a charismatic leader, but she hadn’t yet seen signs of that becoming a significant concern.

It didn’t surprise her that this ‘Conclave’ had been a bed of corruption and inefficiency, as the Amritaya in Zumair was similarly filled with squabbling deities. The Weaver of Sinews showed his great wisdom in his decision to not involve himself with a pantheon.

Overall, Vidhatri couldn’t help but reluctantly approve of Zareth’s unorthodox methods.

“Thank you for sharing your story, Seamstress. It is always pleasant to hear how others found their way into Cerebon’s embrace,” Vidhatri said genuinely, crossing her two lower sets of arms and bowing slightly. “Your journey serves as a reminder that true faith forms in the most trying of times.”

Vidhatri herself had been found by the Dehkshetra temple in her darkest moment, so she knew her words to be true.

“You’re welcome dear. You’ve done good for this cult after coming here, helping Zareth shoulder some of his burden,” Onara replied warmly. “The lad has a passionate and kind soul… but he can be a bit intense at times. It’s good that there’s someone like you to support him.”

Vidhatri nodded, accepting the praise in the spirit that it was meant. It was her duty to further Cerebon’s cause, and he seemed to have plans for Zareth. So long as that remained the case, she would do what she could to ensure that the human’s ambitions were successful.

After sharing a few parting words with Onara, Vidhatri decided to turn her attention to the day’s task. She could hear a servant approaching Zareth’s room to awaken the human and wished to have the cult ready before he joined them.

Corralling the [Cultists] under her supervision was no great burden, as they all respected her enough to follow her commands. Vidhatri was heartened to witness the cult’s camaraderie as they all assisted each other in preparation for the day ahead. A high leveled [Baker] named Gurza used the spire’s kitchen to prepare snacks for incoming guests while younger members of the cult helped prepare the same side room that had been used to augment High Command’s soldiers.

The atmosphere was relaxed and slightly anticipatory as everyone seemed eager to offer their services to the city’s heathens. Before long, the spire’s doors were opened and the first of Tal’Qamar’s citizenry were welcomed inside by Tamir.

Vidhatri had expected that Zareth would be the one to greet the guests, but he had emphasized his desire for the cult to act with as much autonomy as possible. It was an approach much different from the Flesh Father, and she wasn’t quite certain how to interpret it.

Vidhatri enjoyed the sight of the heathens recoiling at the flesh being spread throughout the structure by Meldorath’s Heart. Although they were clearly disgusted, none of them were willing to abandon their original reasons for coming to the spire and reluctantly allowed Tamir to usher them inside.

By the time Vidhatri spotted Zareth descending the stairs to join them, accompanied by his handsome guard and fully dressed in a more ornate version of the cult’s ceremonial garbs, the spire’s common room was humming with activity.

Even Zareth seemed surprised to see how efficiently things had been organized in his absence. He took a moment to scan the room, nodding in approval and offering polite smiles to any follower who greeted him. While the human lacked the Flesh Father’s awe-inspiring presence, Vidhatri had to admit that Zareth possessed a certain degree of charisma that made him well suited for his role.

Rizok was the first of the pair to catch sight of Vidhatri, so she rewarded him with a sultry smile that had the lizardkin’s green scales flushing a darker hue and caused her to feel a surge of satisfaction. The heathen was surprisingly easy to embarrass considering how experienced he should be from his time in the military.

Vidhatri would never admit this, but she found it rather endearing.

Zareth’s gaze eventually landed on Vidhatri and he began to approach the alcove from which she had been monitoring the proceedings.

“Senior Fleshwarper, good morning,” said Zareth, his tone polite as he greeted her. “Your organizational skills are appreciated. I wasn’t expecting the spire to be ready to receive guests for at least another hour.”

Vidhatri offered them both a slight nod, her four eyes assessing the human with a measured gaze. While there were very little signs of it, she had enough experience with people capable of manipulating their forms to notice the slight signs of fatigue coming from him.

Onara was correct that the human had been working too hard recently, which was impressive given how physically resilient Cerebon’s chosen could become.

“While I provided my assistance, it is your followers who most deserve praise,” Vidhatri responded firmly, turning her gaze back to the common room. She watched as a young lizardkin who barely reached her waist in height scurried through the crowd, barely avoiding tripping over her robes as she carried refreshments. “You’ve done well building this cult. They have a sense of community that is rare for such a young group, and they are all highly motivated.”

If only they were as motivated to serve Cerebon as they were to aid heathens, Vidhatri mused to herself but did not say aloud. She was wise enough to know that devotion was like a plant that needed to be nurtured and grown over time.

Zareth seemed surprised at her words and turned to look at his followers as well. Vidhtari had formed the impression that Zareth was the type of person who rarely stopped to appreciate what he had built. The human tended to be primarily focused on his own ambitions, always moving on to the next task.

It was a commendable trait, but one that could cause problems if not moderated.

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” said Zareth, his expression soft for a moment as he watched a crippled ogre stumble into the spire. “This has been a long time coming. I couldn’t tell you how many people who approached me about seeking our services I had to turn down due to lack of time; those with injuries who couldn’t afford to see a [Healer], or those who simply wanted changes in their appearances. Although, it’ll be some time before we can help anyone who wants major alterations to their bodies. Aside from myself, I would only trust you to change someone’s species or gender.”

Vidhatri had never imagined herself offering her abilities to help heathens… but the idea didn’t cause her to feel as much disgust as she expected. She’d experienced first hand how the gifts offered by Cerebon could drastically improve someone’s life and was reluctant to deny others that opportunity.

Over the next few hours, hundreds of heathens arrived at the spire to receive the cult’s services, including several who brought their children along to receive healing. They were prioritized by order of need with sashes of various colors given to them by Onara, a system that Vidhatri had never seen before but approved of.

The most complicated patients, such as those who were born with certain afflictions, were given dark red sashes and brought to either Vidhatri or Zareth for treatment. Otherwise, the two of them left the work to the young [Cultists].

Tal’Qamar’s military authorities occasionally sent them wounded soldiers who had been injured during the ongoing siege of Fal’Ashar. It was cheaper for them to regrow limbs than to accomplish the same feat with a [Healer] or [Alchemist], so their services needed to be reserved lest they suffer from Skill Exhaustion.

Vidhatri watched the proceedings carefully, taking in the sight of an ogre woman who broke into tears of joy after her child was cured of a deformity to his left arm that he had been afflicted with since birth. Apparently, her people viewed such anomalies as bad omens, an indication that the child’s ancestors had been guilty of grave sins. Now that the boy had been cured, she was hopeful that he would no longer be shunned by her community.

The sight raised complicated feelings within Vidhatri…

Heathens were normally crying for very different reasons when they entered the Dehkshetra temple, usually being enemies of the cult who had been captured and were to be sacrificed. To see a woman on her knees and crying out in gratitude to a [Cultist] she had trained was a new experience for Vidhatri.

Inevitably, the [Cultists] who had been working tirelessly began to show signs of fatigue and the spire’s visitors were instructed to return at a later time. A few heathens had become belligerent at the news, but Vidhatri had no problems persuading them to leave.

Afterward, the mood within the spire was celebratory, and the young [Cultists] were showered with praise by the rest of the cult's members. Most of them were either bashful or beaming with pride. Vidhatri decided to allow them this moment as she returned to Zareth’s side. The human also had a proud smile on his face, even as he divided his attention between here and whatever his golem was doing.

It made her curious about his activities, so after offering congratulations on his cult’s successes today, she decided to direct their conversation to more serious matters.

“Have you made any progress in your research?” asked Vidhatri, nodding toward Rizok in acknowledgement after he used a Skill to create an area of privacy around them. “I hope the notes sent by the Dehkshetra temple regarding Divine Essence and the Etherveil were of use. You have been extremely busy recently, and I can tell that you feel burdened.”

Zareth had asked her to send for that knowledge from the temple shortly after he had achieved his Class Evolution. Vidhatri knew little about the topic itself, but Zareth seemed weighing a choice between specializing in one power or the other, so she had used [Perfect Recall] to quickly learn what she could on the subject after the temple sent the notes.

Personally, she was partial to Divine Essence as anything related to the divine was surely more powerful than mundane magic.

Zareth hesitated and quietly studied her for several moments, most likely considering what information she could be trusted with. Vidhatri would have looked down on the human if he simply shared everything without caution, so she waited patiently while he made his judgment.

Finally, Zareth seemed to reach a decision and hesitantly began to share his concerns.

“Yes, the information from the Dehkshetra temple was very useful, especially in regards to learning more about Divine Essence,” Zareth said slowly, nodding to her in a display of gratitude. “However, that isn’t really what has been worrying me lately. I’ve been attempting to learn more about an enemy of my cult called the Circle of Ghisara and haven’t been able to find anything of substance.”

Vidhatri listened as Zareth explained that the worshipers of a heathen god had been making aggressive actions toward his cult and his speculations as to their motives. She could tell that Zareth was omitting several important details, such as where exactly he was getting his information, but Vidhatri didn’t press the issue.

Apparently, he suspected that the heathens were interested in some unspecified discovery that he was attempting to uncover. Zareth had been working to confirm that, along with receiving lessons on manipulating Ether from another unspecified source, but hadn’t had much success.

When combined with his efforts to create a weapon for the city’s authorities to aid in the siege, there was little surprise that he was stressed.

“You should allow me to capture one of these heathens and deliver their soul to our god,” said Vidhatri, immediately offering the first solution that came to mind. “The Weaver of Sinews will peel apart their secrets and share them with you if these heathens are indeed a threat to your cult. You need not worry. I can be extremely subtle when circumstances call for it.”

Zareth’s expression grew complicated, in the same way it always did when Vidhatri mentioned offering their god his due sacrifices. Vidhatri had assumed the human was simply soft at first, but she had learned more of Tal’Qamar and now believed there was a slight merit in maintaining a relatively good relationship with the heathens.

Still, she was not lying when she claimed that she could capture a single heathen without anyone realizing her involvement.

“I… appreciate your offer, but it’s impossible to ensure that you won’t be discovered given that Ghisara is the Goddess of Oracles and Mysteries,” Zareth replied hesitantly.

It was a good point, and Vidhatri silently chastised herself for not having considered it earlier. After giving it some consideration, she concluded that the best counsel she could offer was one of patience.

“These kinds of groups always reveal their intentions eventually,” said Vidhatri, her voice thoughtful. “If your suspicions are correct, then you could potentially lure them into exposing themselves, potentially by spreading rumors that you’re making progress on finding whatever you’re searching for. Until then, you would be better served focusing on this city’s war and procuring land for your cult. Political power is ultimately the best deterrent for your enemies.”

It wasn’t exceptionally insightful advice, but Zareth seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. Their conversation drifted to a variety of other topics, such as Vidhatri’s thoughts on Divine Essence and Ether, as well as Zareth’s efforts to decipher the tome of Meldorath. That project, at least, had seen some amount of progress after the human became an [Atavistic Apostle].

It seemed like the tome did indeed contain information about the System War, though in far more detail than any source Vidhatri had ever encountered. Unfortunately, they had only succeeded in deciphering the first few pages, which obviously didn’t provide them enough context.

It would take a significant amount of time before they managed to learn anything of interest from the tome.

After nearly half an hour of conversation, Zareth suddenly tensed as his gaze grew distant. Vidhatri knew the human’s attention had shifted to his flesh golem, and waited patiently for him to refocus on their conversation.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Senior Fleshwarper,” Zareth said once he regained his composure. “There’s an important matter that requires my attention. If you need me, I’ll be in my laboratory.”

Vidhatri nodded calmly, and watched as the human swiftly departed. She expected his heathen guard to obediently follow along, but was surprised when she noticed the lizardkin hesitating and glancing toward her.

“Oh? Is there something that you need from me?” Vidhatri asked with a sly smirk. “If you want more of my… attention, then you should wait until after the sun falls to seek it. I’ll be more than happy to see you then.”

She could tell that the heathen was slightly flustered by the implication in her words, but he very quickly recovered and looked at her with surprising determination.

“I would like that, but that isn’t what I wanted to ask,” said Rizok, momentarily pausing nervously before he seemed to regain his courage. “I was wondering if you would like to join me later on a trip through Tal’Qamar so that I could welcome you to the city. There’s a shivarath [Cook] near the Spicebloom Bazaar who specializes in food from Zumair, and I thought you might enjoy the chance to taste something from your homeland.”

Vidhatri would never admit it, but Rizok’s invitation was possibly the last thing she’d expected to hear.

Vidhatri knew that her form was appealing to many, which was to be expected given that she’d personally crafted it. However, even her fellow shivarath worshipers in the Dehkshetra temple often found her to be… overbearing.

There were some who enjoyed that, but never for very long.

Vidhatri took a moment to study Rizok, forcing back a snort of amusement when the lizardkin subtly preened under her gaze. He was quite the specimen, with beautiful scales and admirable musculature earned through a lifetime of combat. Even in a peaceful environment, Rizok maintained an air of alertness and strength that Vidhatri found appealing.

However, none of those were the reason why she was actually considering accepting the heathen’s invitation. Rather, it was the utter earnestness in Rizok’s gaze which caught her off guard.

Vidhatri couldn’t recall anyone ever looking at her in such a way.

“I suppose I can spare the time to indulge you,” said Vidhatri, hiding her surprise behind a teasing smile. That became more difficult when she saw Rizok’s eyes light up with genuine excitement. “We’ll see if this [Cook] is as genuine as you claim, and you can show me whatever sights in Tal’Qamar are worth seeing. It will be useful to understand this city from a native’s perspective.”

Rizok’s smile widened at her acceptance, showing off an impressive row of teeth that could likely tear through flesh with ease. “You won’t regret it. We can go later this evening.”

After the two of them spent the next few moments settling the details of their romantic outing, Rizok excused himself to attend his duties. Vidhatri watched him leave, enjoying the sight of his strong tail waving from side to side behind him. Once Rizok had fully disappeared from view, Vidhatri allowed the small smile that had been playing at the edges of her lips to grow.

As she turned her attention back to the common room, she couldn’t help but think that her time in Tal’Qamar may not be as unpleasant as she had once anticipated.

Zareth dearly wished that he had a more efficient method of communicating through his golem than directing it to slowly transcribe his thoughts. He’d always found it awkward to write using Tal’Qamar’s weird reed calligraphy pens, and that was made even worse when he had to do so using a flying eyeball with tiny hands.

Still, he forced his golem to frantically write down his thoughts as Lore Guardian Othrik shared the discovery he’d made while researching the Nexus of Magic.

“Are you certain that the scroll said Ashar’s Deep?” Zareth wrote down using his golem’s clumsy fingers.

The elderly lizardkin glared before writing down a response and waving it in front of the golem, confirming that the scroll had indeed referenced Ashar’s Deep and that he didn’t appreciate having his expertise doubted.

Zareth let out a curse of frustration as he took a seat in front of his workbench after informing the Lore Guardian that he needed a moment to think.

He didn’t actually have anything urgent to do in his laboratory and just needed some privacy while he sorted out the implications of what he had learned.

It had been several weeks since Rizok first brought Zareth to meet the Lore Guardian, and he had learned a lot during that time. At first, Zareth had decided to dedicate the majority of his time to studying the Etherveil. After all, who wouldn’t jump at the chance to train in magic when given the opportunity.

Zareth had already had plenty of impossible experiences since his reincarnation, but he was convinced that nothing would ever feel as otherworldly as when he first touched the Etherveil.

It was difficult to put into words, but connecting to the Etherveil was like experiencing a reality beyond his physical senses, a realm where thoughts and emotions flowed like water and air. It was truly beautiful, and Zareth had to stop himself from immediately choosing [Ether Attunement] so that he could experience it even more closely

Instead, Zareth had allowed those sensations to fade and took a step back in order to judge his options in a more logical manner. From what he had been told, [Ether Attunement] would allow him to effectively become something akin to a [Mage] while [Divine Essence Attunement] would allow him to do things that were more limited, but also more potent in comparison.

The records from the Dehkshetra temple claimed Cerebon’s Divine Essence could accomplish things like turning metal into flesh or even more esoteric abilities unavailable to most of his followers.

Zareth had always believed that emphasizing his specialities was superior to spreading himself thin, so the concept of [Divine Essence Attunement] appealed to him at first.

Still, he wasn’t in a rush, so Zareth waited and allowed Lore Guardian Othrik to give him a few lessons on manipulating the Etherveil.

Sitting up from in seat, Zareth drew upon that near infinite source of energy that existed just beyond his senses and began weaving it as the Lore Guardian had taught him.

It wasn’t particularly difficult and even felt natural as a thin thread of Ether began to form between his fingertips. The Ether would only be visible to him unless it became concentrated enough to fully manifest in the physical world. Reaching this level of concentration shouldn’t be all that difficult according to the Tessik’s Pre-System records.

However, Lore Guardian had introduced him to one of the greatest mysteries of the modern day Etherveil during his very first lesson.

Zareth stopped playing with the thread of Ether and attempted to push more energy through it, testing the limits of what he could do. The thread of Ether began to glow brighter, becoming more substantial by the moment, until the energy Zareth had been channeling just suddenly… disappeared.

It was impossible to tell where it had gone or what had become of it. According to Lore Guardian Othrik, focusing too much Ether into a single location always caused this result, and was a phenomenon that had never been mentioned in the Pre-System era.

Supposedly, not even the greatest of [Archmages] understood the cause of it.

After creating several thin threads of Ether as he had been taught and being careful to avoid reaching the dissipation threshold, Zareth slowly willed them to converge into a relatively simple pattern and pushed his will into the threads.

A single moment later, a ball of light manifested in front of Zareth, and he found himself smiling at the magical experience of manually casting the very first spell he had ever learned.

Unfortunately, even this light spell had taken him weeks to learn and wasn’t all that useful when he could turn his skin bioluminescent with little effort. He would need to choose [Ether Attunement] if he wanted Lore Guardian Othik to be able to teach him more than just a small cantrip, which was why his choice was leaning in that direction.

It was also why Zareth had grown significantly more interested in discovering the location of the so-called Nexus of Magic that his [Atavistic Insight] was leading him toward.

If he could harness its power…

Now, Lore Guardian Othrik had uncovered credible accounts pointing him toward Ashar’s Deep, a massive underground cavern system near Fal’Ashar that was relatively popular among Adventurers. This was consistent with occasional references to something underground that he’d gleaned from the tome of Meldorath.

He wished that he could just hire the Pathfinders to explore it like he did with Meldorath’s temple, but Ashar’s Deep was far more vast and dangerous than the temple of a dead goddess.

That being said, actually accessing it in the first place was likely to be the greatest obstacle.

Zareth was pulled from his thoughts as he sensed Rizok making his way down the stairs into his laboratory. Glancing back at his friend, he immediately noticed that the lizardkin seemed to be in a better mood than when Zareth had last seen him.

He had a good idea why.

“Glad that you finally joined me, Rizok. Did something pleasant happen?” Zareth asked teasingly as he leaned back in his seat.

“Nothing that you need to worry about,” Rizok immediately responded, his smile not wavering for a moment as he joined Zareth’s side and quickly changed the subject. “Why did you suddenly come down here? Did Lore Guardian Othrik find something of significance?”

Reminded of his current conundrum, Zareth straightened and explained to friend that he needed to gain access to Ashar’s Deep. Naturally, Rizok immediately saw the issue with this.

“If the reports we’ve received on the ongoing siege are accurate, then that’s a problem,” said Rizok, his expression becoming more serious. “Fal’Ashar may have been caught off-guard out in the field, but they are more than prepared to protect their city. They are well stocked, have a well-sized garrison, and the walls surrounding Fal’Ashar have the best enchantments in the entire Qahtani Desert. Even an [Archmage] would find it difficult to damage those walls. Successfully seizing the city could potentially take up to a year.”

Zareth had been a veterinarian in his first life, not a historian, but even he knew that it wasn’t unheard of for sieges to last that long. Fal’Ashar was no mere town, and was instead a powerful city-state that had invested significantly in its own defense. Not only that, but their morale would not break so long as the rest of their allies remained capable of fighting back against Tal’Qamar.

That being the case, General Nasrith would most likely decide to leave behind enough soldiers to keep Fal’Ashar contained and move on with the rest of the war. Given what he had just learned, that would be against Zareth’s interests.

After failing to learn anything more about the Circle of Ghisara, Zareth had reached a similar conclusion as Vidhatri and decided to instead focus his attention on the war. This decision was now further reinforced by the importance of Ashar’s Deep.

However, every idea he’d come up with to help with the siege had been handedly dismissed by Rizok.

“Are you certain that the Blood Sacks wouldn’t be useful?” Zareth groaned as he rubbed his head in frustration. “Didn’t the reports claim that they caused structural damage to the fort captured by General Nasrith after seeping into the ground for too long?”

“You shouldn’t underestimate the ability of a [Strategist] to adapt to new circumstances,” said Rizok, ruthlessly dashing his hopes. “The first rule of warfare is to assume that your enemy is every bit as clever as yourself. Even if they haven’t yet developed a complete counter to the Blood Sacks by now, the enemy will have received reports of its approximate capabilities and understood the implications. That fort was too close to Fal’Ashar to not be under constant scrying. It’s worth an attempt, but I would not expect much to come from it.”

Zareth wasn’t surprised by Rizok’s response, even if it frustrated him. It turned out that sieging a city was actually more complicated in this world than in his previous one.

Vitality prevented most natural famines, while Fal’Ashar would have ample counter measures to any magical methods of forcing a surrender. Siege spells, magical plagues, poisoned water supplies, infiltration from above or below; all of these were common strategies used for millennia in this world, and thus thoroughly planned against.

Zareth waited for a sudden burst of inspiration to hit him like it did for the Blood Sacks, when he was facing a similar impasse, but no such convenient solution was coming to mind this time.

“There’s no need to be disappointed that you’re unable to develop an idea that’ll allow High Command to end the siege outright,” said Rizok, attempting to provide some reassurance. “Situations like the Blood Sack are exceedingly rare. No offense intended, but nobody is expecting you to be a genius [Strategist] capable of orchestrating victory after victory. In war, it’s better to focus on simply tipping the scale in our direction and trusting your fellow soldiers to do the rest.”

Zareth didn’t like it, but he knew that Rizok was right. He was too focused on finding that one idea capable of ending the siege outright. Instead, it would be more fruitful to consider a multitude of smaller, cumulative methods that could gradually weaken Fal’Ashar’s defenses and morale.

At least, enough so that General Nasrith wouldn’t decide to abandon the siege and move on.

Maybe if I can even develop something that works with the cooperation of one of the other religious groups, Zareth mused as he made his way over to the cages where he kept his magical creatures.

Zareth felt this new perspective was worth exploring. Ever since he had touched the Etherveil, he had been able to better sense the magic within these creatures and felt like it would be easier to modify and apply their abilities to his augmentation templates.

He had attempted to make use of this newfound sensitivity to further his efforts to create flying humanoids, which would allow High Command to bypass many of Fal’Ashar’s defenses. Unfortunately, flight required significant amounts of tradeoffs to make work naturally, and thus needed equally significant magical compensation to become viable.

After an hour of experimentation, Zareth realized that his sensitivity to Ether simply wasn’t strong enough to allow for any options he hadn’t already tried before, which made him want to do something… slightly impulsive.

[Ether Attunement] would allow him to delve deeper in the mysteries of the Etherveil, enhancing his magical abilities and possibly opening new avenues for his research.

[Divine Essence Attunement] would likely enhance his abilities as well, offering him more options. It wasn’t immediately clear to him what Cerebon’s Divine Essence could do that Zareth couldn’t already accomplish with his own Skills, but the notes from the Dehkshetra temple implied that it would equip him with more specialized, potent abilities.

Regardless of whichever option he decided, there was a good chance it would give him the boost that he needed. Given how little information existed about them both, it was unlikely that Zareth would learn more than he already had, so he needed to make a decision.

Zareth’s mind raced as he considered both options, filled with a strange certainty that this decision would have significant consequences on his future. Both carried their advantages, but he kept finding himself being drawn to one in particular.

Zareth had always been drawn in by the allure of the unknown and the promise of discovery, a trait which had grown even stronger after becoming an [Atavistic Apostle].

Both were mysterious in their own right, but the bizarre interaction between the Etherveil and the System made [Ether Attunement] particularly intriguing. In addition, the “Nexus of Magic” being hidden by the Conclave was explicitly referenced alongside the Etherveil.

Besides, something inside of Zareth rebelled at the thought of giving up that infinite ocean of potential represented by the Etherveil in favor of Divine Essence.

Perhaps he would live to regret the decision, but in this moment, Zareth felt that the path of [Ether Attunement] called to him like nothing ever had before.

Before he could second guess himself, Zareth made his decision.

[Ether Attunement] has been acquired!

Instantly, something within Zareth expanded in a way that was difficult to explain. It was far more than just the surge of power that came with increased Stats and instead felt like a shift in his very essence.

The Etherveil, once a vague sensation that existed in the back of his mind, exploded into an array of magical textures and ethereal flows. He could feel the minute differences between the Ether in Rizok’s enchanted ring and the Ether within the caged Glassweaver Spider. Zareth somehow knew that the former was mental in nature while the latter was related to light.

He hadn’t even known that Ether could carry such aspects. Even a cursory sweep over the creatures he had collected revealed complexities he had never imagined.

The Crystalline Songbird had a mesmerizing melody that could enchant listeners that he’d been attempting to replicate, but he could now tell that was a useless endeavor. Shielding the singer from its effects would be impossible, while the Crystalline Songbird simply lacked the mental capacity to be affected by its song. Instead he was far more interested in the strange gravity manipulating magic within the creature’s wings.

It seemed obvious in retrospect that a literal flying rock would need an unnatural method to fly.

The Starshell Tortoise was capable of sustaining itself purely on lunar light, and Zareth now felt reasonably confident he could grant such an ability to his golem. It would be useful to give his flying camera a fully rechargeable battery so that it could spy for him without needing occasional maintenance.

The Whispering Willow Wisp, which looked like a simple orb of light floating from side to side, was…

Well, Zareth still wasn’t quite certain what was going on with the wisp. Its movements had seemed random to him before, but he could now tell that it was following the currents of Ether moving through his laboratory like a jellyfish drifting in the sea.

He didn’t know how that could be useful to him, but Zareth was still overjoyed by all the possibilities that came to mind when he looked at the rest of his collection.

“Rizok, I’m going to be down here for a while, so you should go spend some time with Vidhatri,” Zareth said, ignoring his friend’s protests as he turned his full attention to his experimentations.

There were so many new ideas that he wanted to test, both for the siege on Fal’Ashar and for himself. After all, it had been quite some time since Zareth had made any truly significant alterations to his own body.

Now that his options had expanded, he felt that it was time to change that.