Cultist of Cerebon

Zareth looked up from his attempt to create a new designer pet as he sensed his cult’s surprise guest making her way toward his laboratory.

Yesterday, he had just been about to finish showing Vidhatri around the spire when they had received a sudden visit from an officer sent by High Command. Apparently, the shivarath had decided for some odd reason that it would be a good idea to sneak into Tal’Qamar rather than go through proper channels.

One of the many guards patrolling through the Spire Gardens had caught sight of Vidhatri when she revealed herself, resulting in High Command sending someone to interrogate her. It had been a nervous few minutes of trying to convince the suspicious officer that Vidhatri was not an immediate threat to the city and his guest. The officer had finally agreed to conduct an interview in the morning instead and left.

Naturally, Zareth had decided that their conversation could wait until later while the shivarath was being questioned and focused on handling other matters, such as reassuring Tamir that he definitely wouldn’t be required to participate in sapient sacrifices.

Probably.

Sadly, ‘later’ had become ‘now’ and he now had to deal with the foreign zealot stepping into his laboratory.

“Welcome back, Senior Fleshwarper Vidhatri,” Zareth said as the shivarath walked down the steps and began studying his equipment and samples with an appreciative expression. “I’m surprised High Command was willing to let you go so quickly.”

“The local authorities merely wished to soothe their pride after I was able to bypass their heightened security,” said Vidhatri, her voice utterly unapologetic and mildly disdainful as she honed in on Meldorath’s Heart and crouched down to study it. “With the weight of your cult’s political power and my willingness to reveal how I had gotten past the gates, the heathens had no reason to keep me detained.”

Zareth was glad that the situation had been resolved relatively easily, though he had a feeling that wouldn’t remain the case if something like it happened again. High Command’s liaison not-so-subtly had made sure Zareth knew that Vidhatri’s actions would reflect directly on him in the future.

“It is impressive what you have managed to accomplish alone and without guidance,” Vidhatri continued before he could respond as she pressed one of her palms against the floor near Meldorath’s Heart. “With this, it makes sense how your cult has successfully functioned without proper sacrifices. However, I still believe your refusal to offer the Weaver of Sinews his deserved tribute is a foolish mistake.”

Zareth immediately winced. He’d a vain hope that the shivarath wouldn’t bring up their… cultural differences after he explained the cult’s situation in Tal’Qamar yesterday, but it seemed like that was too much to ask.

Just when he finished fixing a polite smile on his face and was about to reply, Zareth suddenly faltered as Vidhatri did something that made him completely lose his train of thought.

“Why are you doing that?” Zareth asked as he watched Vidhatri push aside her cloak and reach into the meat of her left calf.

Zareth was baffled as the shivarath retrieved what appeared to be a small coin-shaped piece of flesh with several runes carved onto its surface before closing the wound.

“Our bodies are often the safest place for Cerebon’s chosen to hide items from those ignorant heathens who would persecute us,” Vidhatri explained calmly before holding the flesh coin into the air and murmuring a few words in her native language, causing it to begin glowing.

It took a moment for Zareth to realize what was happening, but he eventually noticed the lack of sound coming from beyond his laboratory. Vidhatri had likely used that coin to create a magical ward that would ensure that they had privacy for their discussion, similar to Rizok’s [Aura of Silence] Skill.

“That wasn’t necessary. This place is already the most heavily warded location in the spire,” Zareth said as he watched the shivrath return the flesh coin to her thigh with obvious curiosity. “Although, I would be interested in learning what that thing is. It seems very useful.”

“No precautions are too great when discussing our people’s secrets. Especially with such a highly leveled heathen standing guard nearby,” Vidhatri explained as she began walking around the laboratory and studying his specimens. “As for your question, its name in your tongue would translate to ‘Flesh Rune.’ They are created through the efforts of [Flesh Scribes], a Class common among a particular sect of our god’s worshipers.”

Zareth couldn’t help but imagine the many possible applications of these Flesh Runes. He’d heard of distant cultures where magical tattoos were common, but he’d never been able to find anything similar since tattooing wasn’t a very common practice in Tal’Qamar.

In addition, he'd just learned two important pieces of information about Cerebon's other worshipers. First, that they were persecuted enough that they'd be paranoid about protecting themselves, and that they also possessed knowledge that would be highly valuable to his cult.

“That’s fascinating, but you don’t need to worry about hiding while you’re in Tal’Qamar,” said Zareth, refocusing on the matter at hand as he plastered a smile back on his face. “The people of this city know and accept our presence. I assume that not sacrificing any of them helps with that.”

“Perhaps. The authorities did seem much more tolerant of me than I was expecting,” said Vidhatri, surprisingly open to his perspective considering her religious zeal. “Though I doubt you would feel the same if your cult faced the same conditions as we do on Zumair. Or if you’d experienced a need for specialized biomass without having your necessities conveniently fulfilled by acquiring forgotten knowledge.”

That was the second time that Vidhatri had mentioned a link between Meldorath’s Heart and the need for sacrifices, and Zareth couldn’t help but be curious. He hadn’t forgotten that Cerebon had sent Vidhatri here specifically because of the tome he’d found in the lost temple of Meldorath.

Zareth had been anticipating that they would engage in more small talk, but he had no complaints if Vidhatri wanted to dive directly into the heart of the matter.

“Are you implying that sacrifices are your primary means of acquiring magical biomass?” Zareth asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. “Is that why Lord Cerebon seemed so interested in finding Meldorath’s temple and acquiring the knowledge of her followers? So that you would have an alternative?”

If so, that would explain a lot and reflect well on Cerebon in his opinion. Unfortunately, Vidhatri’s snort of disdain made it clear that his conclusion was off the mark.

“I would not normally speculate on our god's intentions, but I will make an exception in this case as he has directed me to guide you,” said Vidhatri as she stopped in front of the floating biomass templates in the back of the laboratory. “To answer your question, I doubt it. The Weaver of Sinews has never cared to control the behavior of his worshipers like some lesser deities, nor does he indulge us in unearned power. Cerebon’s chosen are expected to find their own path and prosper through their own efforts.”

Zareth wondered how much of Vidhatri’s opinion was accurate and how much was the biased perspective of a zealot.

“If Lord Cerebon doesn’t care about Meldorath’s Heart, then why did he go to so much effort to acquire this tome?” Zareth asked skeptically as he walked over a nearby bookcase and retrieved the object of their discussion. “I find it hard to believe that he spent several decades searching for a lost temple if not for that.”

The various fleshcrafting designs were all quite useful, but they were all things that he would expect Cerebon’s other worshipers to be capable of creating. He’d latched onto Meldorath’s Heart being the deity's target, because it seemed the most likely ‘game-changer’ in the tome, but Vidhatri had only displayed a moderate interest in the biomass creating organ.

The moment Zareth picked up the tome in question, Vidhatri turned her full attention to him for the first time since entering the laboratory.

“Is that it?” asked Vidhatri, her eyes locking onto the tome with a fervor that made him uncomfortable. “Give it to me so that I may examine it.”

Zareth hesitated as Vidhatri extended her lower pair of arms, obviously expecting to be obeyed. His instincts rebelled against the idea of surrendering what was likely his most valuable possession to someone he barely knew, but he ultimately saw no reason to refuse.

After all, he’d already copied what he could from the tome, and she had been sent specifically by Cerebon for exactly this purpose.

“Oh, how sublime to have finally fulfilled our god’s mandate after so long,” said Vidhatri, her previous disdain disappearing in favor of near-rapturous glee as Zareth reluctantly handed her the tome. “You have done well, Cultist Zareth. Few worshippers your age have managed to further Cerebon’s designs as well as you have done.”

Zareth barely held back a shudder of unease. It was bad enough having Vidhatri four eyes locked on him with such intensity, but the sudden switch from coldly examining his laboratory to widely smiling with overwhelming joy was more than a little disturbing.

“Thank you for your kind words, Senior Fleshwarper,” said Zareth as he shifted in place and tried to hide his discomfort. “Although, I would appreciate it if you explained in detail exactly what ‘designs’ I’m furthering.”

Vidhatri barely seemed to hear him as she opened the book and began reading, her eyes moving with such speed that he could have sworn she was a [Scholar] with [Speed Reading] or something similar.

Zareth was just about to ask his question again a little more forcefully when Vidhatri finally decided to answer.

“The reason for your confusion is because you’ve dismissed this as the mere journal of a dead goddess’ worshiper,” said Vidhatri, her eyes never leaving the tome as she turned another page. “You cannot be blamed. The High Priest who wrote this went to great lengths to hide it from even his peers. Come closer and make use of our god’s gift. Look upon this tome with his eye to guide you.”

Zareth was very skeptical. He’d naturally already studied the thing closely with the [Eye of Cerebon], but hadn’t noticed anything else than some of the script becoming legible.

“Am I looking for anything in particular?” Zareth asked after a few moments of unfruitful staring.

“Focus harder, Cultist Zareth,” Vidhatri said with a hint of censure. “Our god does nothing without reason, including bestowing upon you his sacred eye. He wishes for you to break the illusions that surround this tome, and you will not fail him.”

Feeling pressured by the zealot’s words, Zareth mustered his resolve and focused entirely on the [Eye of Cerebon]. Nothing happened at first, but then he began to feel the same indistinct pressure that he usually felt when attempting to see through an illusion.

Soon enough, the tome’s fleshy surface began to writhe as the script shifted and changed into what seemed to be a completely different language. Where before the [Eye of Cerebon] was able to translate the tome’s writing into something Zareth could understand, it now appeared far more dense and completely illegible.

Not only that, but the divine energy emanating from it somehow changed in quality in a way that was difficult to describe. It wasn’t necessarily more powerful, but it definitely felt more… potent to his senses.

“What language is this?” Zareth asked, his eyes widening in astonishment. “The script from before looked like some ancient form of Nephalan, but I don’t recognize this at all.”

“You’ve succeeded? Good,” said Vidhatri, sounding pleased as she looked down at him with approval before refocusing on the tome. “I have no idea what this language is, nor would even the most knowledgeable of [Historians] I suspect. Meldorath would not have wished for any but her highest ranking servants to be capable of reading this. It is likely written in whatever language the dead goddess spoke prior to her apotheosis, far in the distant past.”

Zareth had no way to know just how long ago that was. He knew that Cerebon had usurped Meldorath somewhere around the time that the System showed up, which was about three millennia ago, but any history further than that was lost to time.

Given that it had been written before his time, even Cerebon might not be able to read it.

Although, these were merely guesses on Zareth’s part since he didn’t fully know what a god was capable of.

If Meldorath’s High Priest had gone through the effort of having a tome written in a dead language and then concealing it behind a deceptive illusion, it must have been extremely significant.

“Unfortunately, I am no more capable of reading this language than you, and the Weaver of Sinews is not prone to explaining his motives,” Vidhatri admitted with a hint of reluctance, answering the question Zareth was about to ask. “However, we have noticed over time that our god seems interested in the acquisition of any knowledge pertaining to the System War.”

Zareth hummed thoughtfully as he considered the information. He wished that he could just use the artifact at the top of the spire to ask Cerebon directly, but the god had proven… less than receptive to being contacted.

The splitting headache and the ominous aura of warning that came crashing down on him when he had tried the last time had made that abundantly clear. Zareth had a feeling Cerebon would only contact him again once he had something for him to do.

Thinking on the matter, it made some sense that Cerebon wouldn’t know everything about the System War despite becoming a god around the time it had ended. The actual war supposedly lasted for several centuries, longer than the majority of mortal lifespans.

“Do we have any idea what Lord Cerebon is looking for specifically in regard to the System War?” Zareth asked, his mind racing as he tried to figure out the god’s motivation.

“We do not, though we assume that it is related to the System’s creation,” Vidhatri explained as she closed the book. “It is known among the upper echelons of our faith that the pantheons on the winning side of the System War actively suppress such knowledge, even through the use of lethal methods if necessary.”

Zareth wouldn’t normally consider ancient history to be particularly relevant to his life, but he hadn’t forgotten that the Conclave could be counted among those Pantheons. His instincts told him that this wasn’t a matter that he would be able to ignore.

Zareth was pulled from his musings when Vidhatri suddenly returned the tome to him, much to his surprise.

“I would normally take this back with me to Dehkshetra, but the [Raja] of a neighboring nation has been insistent in targeting our sect prior to my departure,” Vidhatri explained, answering his unspoken question. “Returning would risk delivering this precious item right into their grasp. Instead, I will stay in this strange city where I can offer you guidance on how to properly serve the Weaver of Sinews, while also working to decipher the tome’s hidden contents for our god.”

Zareth felt a bit conflicted about Vidhatri staying in Tal’Qamar. On one hand, having a high-leveled individual with her kind of experience would be a great benefit to his cult, but… he anticipated there being difficulties over their different sets of values.

“You are welcome here, so long as you understand that I am the one who decides how this cult will operate,” Zareth said forcefully, deciding that it would be best to make things explicitly clear from the outset. “Your actions in Tal’Qamar will reflect on me and this cult, so I expect you’ll adhere to our way of doing things. That means you won’t do anything that could hurt our position in the city, understand?”

Vidhatri stared at him with an assessing gaze that Zareth met without faltering. He could feel the same pressure he felt from any particularly high-leveled individual when he looked at her, but Zareth wouldn’t allow himself to be intimidated. He had worked too hard to establish his position to let it be compromised by the unrestrained actions of a foreign zealot.

“It seems then that I will need to learn more about this sect, so that I do not cause insult,” Vidhatri replied with an even voice, relenting first in their silent standoff before she turned away and walked over to the workbench he had been using before her arrival. “Though there are doubtlessly many ubiquitous rituals and fleshcrafting which I can provide my expertise with. This warbeast for example. It is far too small and would not intimidate even the weakest [Kshatriya Adept]!”

The so-called ‘warbeast’ that Vidhatri was referring to was Zareth’s alchemically sedated attempt to create a kind of flying feline creature that would serve both as affectionate pets and useful vermin hunters. In a world where the wildlife had a tendency to evolve extremely dangerous abilities, he figured a cute companion that could defend your home from magical scorpions and granaries from mice would sell well in Tal’Qamar.

The practice he would gain from designing the wings was also an added benefit for when he wanted to learn how to modify himself to fly.

With fluffy fur, a small button nose, and colorful wings, the creature was far from intimidating and was instead meant to look endearing, a fact which seemed to be lost on Vidhatri.

Just as he was about to explain this to her, the shivarath suddenly gestured to the creature with a prideful gleam in her eyes. “Behold! I shall demonstrate the true abilities of one who has dedicated themselves to serving the Weaver of Sinews, and who has been justly rewarded!”

Zareth watched in horror as his attempt at a cute flying pet suddenly began warping at a rapid rate. The creature’s previously small body expanded rapidly and began growing scales, its wings grew dark and sinewy, and even its cute button nose elongated into a more predatory snout. The pet now resembled something akin to a cross between a stunted wyvern and a gryphon.

Zareth was stuck between feeling impressed that Vidhatri could transform a creature many times faster than he ever could without even touching it, and upset over his hard work being ruined.

“That… was not meant to be a warbeast,” Zareth finally managed to say, his voice filled with exasperation. “That was supposed to be a pet, Senior Fleshwarper.”

Vidhatri’s expression of utter confusion would normally have had Zareth laughing if not for the circumstances. It took an unreasonable amount of time and effort explaining the situation for the shivarath to finally understand what Zareth was trying to accomplish.

“A… pet? The people of these lands would give gold for such trivialities?” Vidhatri murmured as she turned to the now malformed creature with a bewildered and slightly embarrassed expression. “How strange.”

Much to Zareth’s relief, the shivarath was able to return the cat to its previous form with just as much ease as when she altered it.

“Perhaps these lands are more different than I had anticipated,” said Vidhatri, her voice carrying a bit less confidence than before as she turned back to him. “Explain to me how my abilities may be put to the most use, Cultist Zareth. As you doubtlessly know this city far better than myself, I will defer to your judgment until I am more familiar with its customs.”

Zareth was more than a little relieved that despite her zeal, Vidhatri seemed at least somewhat reasonable. He’d maneuvered his cult into a fairly favorable political position in the city, but now that the other faiths would be competing in earnest for their portions of the spoils of war, Zareth could use all the help he could get.

Zareth took a moment to consider Vidhatri’s question before deciding where she would be most useful. “Well, I think it would be best if you were to help the members of my cult, either by teaching our [Cultists] what you know about fleshwarping or by helping people gain levels and acquire unique Classes. Even I could use your assistance with that, since I’m so close to my Class Evolution.”

Personally speaking, help with his next level was what he most wanted from Vidhatri. The Grimoire of Cerebon had given him an overview of what he could expect, but that would be nothing compared to the advice of someone as experienced as Vidhatri.

Vidhatri seemed to perk up a bit at that and looked at him with a curious expression. “How far are you from gaining your first Class Evolution? I have guided many young [Cultists] through this pivotal stage of development and would be glad to do so again.”

“I’m level 24, and I can feel that I’m a bit over halfway to level 25,” Zareth answered immediately, hoping that she would have useful advice to share.

Vidhatri’s expression grew thoughtful as she interlaced the fingers of her lower set of hands. “In this sort of situation, I would normally have you list every major achievement that you’ve accomplished up to this point. Through this, we could understand which potential Class Evolutions the System may offer you and decide on the best path forward. However, I believe there may be an opportunity to simply push you over the threshold directly if you are truly that close.”

Hearing that news, Zareth felt as if he had suddenly been struck by lightning. He’d only been expecting to receive some guidance on Class Evolutions, but it would be a game changer if he could actually achieve it soon.

Class Evolutions were a big deal, especially when Zareth was likely the only religious leader in the city who had yet to achieve one, with the possible exception of Kinta. General Nasrith’s upcoming assault against the enemy coalition’s forces was imminent, and he’d hoped to achieve his Class Evolution before then.

The augmentation templates he’d been working on would almost certainly make a big splash, but Zareth needed to make the best first impression possible.

“How?” asked Zareth, his voice filled with desire. “Only Cerebon himself was able to directly increase my level. How could you possibly achieve the same feat?”

“Simple. As someone who has completed an ordained mission from our god himself, you are qualified to undergo the Mamsa Moksha. Or roughly translated into your language, the Rite of Flesh Liberation,” said Vidhatri with a satisfied expression, the fervor in her eyes growing. “I had already intended to perform the ceremony, but it can be done in a way to ensure you gain your next level.”

“How would some sort of ceremony help me level?” Zareth asked skeptically, while still intrigued by the idea. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about participating in some sort of foreign ritual, but there were few things he wouldn’t do for a free level. “And why haven’t I heard about it before? Shouldn’t something like that be in the Grimoire of Cerebon?”

“Hmph. That ‘grimoire’ is merely something given to those who’ve shown the potential to adequately serve our god. It naturally does not hold information about the more important parts of our practices,” Vidhatri said with a hint of disdain before looking at him with a thoughtful expression. “You are familiar with the criteria that the System uses to bestow levels, correct?”

“Yes. It judges your actions based on a combination of difficulty and relevance to your Class,” Zareth immediately confirmed. “That’s why I’ve leveled so quickly ever since I’ve established the cult. Because I’ve been facing significant challenges directly related to being a [Cultist].”

The speed at which Zareth was leveling surprised even him at times. Going from level 18 to level 24 would have likely taken him several years of consistent work if the Conclave had not been driven from Tal’Qamar.

“Precisely, but there is another less obvious factor which many overlook,” Vidhatri added, a certain quality to her voice giving the impression that she was accustomed to lecturing people on this matter. “The System has a tendency to more greatly reward actions that a person has not previously performed. Most people do not notice this, as difficult feats tend to be those not previously done by their nature. Not only is the Rite of Flesh Liberation extremely relevant to your Class and wholly unique to someone like you, but it will also prove your devotion to the Weaver of Sinews.”

Zareth had never heard of that information before, and it clearly showed the advantage of belonging to a group that had accumulated knowledge over the years. This kind of advice was exactly what he’d been hoping for when Vidhatri arrived.

“How do we perform this Rite of Flesh Liberation, Senior Fleshwarper?” Zareth asked eagerly, already fully convinced by the shivarath’s explanation.

“Your enthusiasm is commendable,” Vidhatri said with a nod of approval. “The Mamsa Moksha is relatively simple and involves the acolyte acquiring the greatest possible offering for our god. While using the [Ritual of Offering] to present their gift, they will also swear on our god’s name to serve him faithfully forevermore and forswear all other deities. In return, the Weaver of Sinews will bestow on you the perspective of what it means for your body to be truly malleable.”

Needless to say, Zareth immediately demanded a more explicit explanation about what she truly meant. It took some time to get through Vidhatri’s metaphors and zealous rhetoric, but he was eventually able to put together a clearer picture of the Rite of Flesh Liberation.

It involved swearing a set of oaths before presenting an offering to Cerebon, and then receiving a reward if the god accepted. This reward came in the form of being forcefully transformed into a wide variety of different bodies by the god himself. This process would result in the worshiper losing any reluctance they once felt to significantly different bodies and also grant them the ability to intuitively use any form they took.

Hence why it was called the ‘Rite of Flesh Liberation.’

The majority of the ritual sounded reasonable to Zareth, despite being a tad bit gruesome. Even ‘forswearing all other deities forever’ didn’t seem unreasonable, as pretty much all of what Zareth had achieved was already inextricably linked to Cerebon.

However, it was when Vidhatri claimed the optimal offering to Cerebon would be to ritualistically sacrifice the worshipers of an enemy god that Zareth’s enthusiasm began to damper.

“Does the ‘offering’ need to involve sapient sacrifice?” Zareth asked hesitantly, hoping for an alternative. “I’ve already told you that this cult doesn’t engage in those kinds of practices. A large portion of my followers would balk at doing so, and it would almost certainly harm our standing in Tal’Qamar.”

“Delivering the souls of hostile heathens to our god and denying them from returning to their own lesser deities is the most certain way to please him and acquire your level,” Vidhatri answered with conviction. “In addition, the fact that you haven’t performed any such sacrifices before adds to the ‘unique’ quality of the ritual. Without it, there is no guarantee that you will level. You face far too many challenges in your path ahead to falter now.”

Zareth hadn’t felt guilt over killing those who wished him harm in a long time. After all, it was just a few weeks ago when he fed a bunch of people to a giant meat house, and he didn’t lose any sleep over it. But there was something different about going so far as to ritualistically sacrifice someone who couldn’t fight back and start messing with their soul.

As someone who’d died and reincarnated, that was one line he was hesitant to cross.

Still, Vidhatri had a point and he really wanted that level. Zareth wasn’t sure how long he spent considering the matter before sighing and shaking his head. “The benefits are tempting, but the cost is too high. I can afford to wait if that is truly my only option.”

Vidhatri frowned with clear disappointment before responding. “This is a mistake, but one that I can see you are intent on making. That being the case, there is one potential offering that would please the Weaver of Sinews enough that the System would consider you to be exceptionally fulfilling your role as a [Cultist] and thus grant you the level you seek.”

Confused by what Vidhatri was referring to, Zareth was just about to ask when he saw her staring at the tome which he was still holding onto.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I was sort of under the impression that we needed this,” said Zareth, waving the fleshy book back and forth. “If Cerebon wanted us to give it to him with a [Ritual of Offering], I feel like you would have mentioned that before.”

“It is not the tome which I’m referring to, but the faint sliver of Meldorath’s divinity left behind within it,” Vidhatri explained, her tone solemn. “It is barely even the remnants of a shadow, to the point where it would be useless for almost any other purpose and would eventually fade on its own after being removed from the dead goddess’ temple. However, the Weaver of Sinews would likely be pleased for the opportunity to snuff out anything that remains of his predecessor.”

Zareth narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the shivarath as he wondered why she hadn’t mentioned this opportunity from the beginning. He eventually realized that Vidhatri had likely hoped that he would have simply chosen to go through with the sacrifices without any objections.

He briefly considered calling her out on it, but quickly decided against it and turned his thoughts to the matter at hand. After thinking about it for some time, he couldn’t see any reason to refuse.

“Good, then we will proceed immediately,” Vidhatri said with a decisive nod, surprising him. “The Mamsa Moksha would normally involve a much grander ceremony, but will make do with the bare minimum in this situation. There is no reason to delay you becoming as strong as possible for your nascent cult. Besides, I will need time to properly consult you on whichever Class Evolutions have become available to you.”

Zareth was somewhat flustered by how quickly things were developing; when he’d begun his conversation with Vidhatri, he hadn’t expected that it would result in him being able to earn his Class Evolution. However, Zareth was nothing if not adaptable and immediately started helping the shivarath prepare the laboratory for the Rite of Flesh Liberation.

According to her, this was the perfect place to perform the ceremony given its relative protection against interruption or surveillance.

During the process, he also saw a small glimpse of what a high-leveled [Fleshwarper] was capable of when she instantly split her six arms into two dozen tentacles that dexterously moved his workbenches away and cleared a space for the ceremony.

It was far different from Zareth's spiked tendrils, which he kept retracted into his body so that he didn't need to form them.

I wonder where she gets the extra biomass from, Zareth wondered as he watched her work. She probably doubled or even tripled her mass in a single moment. I didn't know that was possible.

It didn't take long before Vidhatri declared that they had enough space and began using her own blood to draw a series of glyphs around the laboratory.

Eventually, the site was ready and Vidhatri then spent the next fifteen minutes teaching Zareth the proper oaths. Fortunately, they were relatively simple and she soon deemed everything sufficiently prepared for the Rite of Flesh Liberation to commence.

“If you are certain you’ve memorized the oaths, we can begin,” said Vidhatri, her gaze both intense and anticipatory. “Simply place the book in the center of the circle, activate [Ritual of Offering], and speak the words I’ve taught you. The rest will be left to the Weaver of Sinews should he judge you worthy.”

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Zareth nodded. He placed the fleshy tome at the center of the ritual site, feeling the potent trace of divine energy emanating from it. A part of him wondered if the ‘faint sliver of Meldorath’s divinity’ was truly as useless as Vidhatri claimed, but he supposed it didn’t matter.

Even if it could theoretically be used in other ways, it’s only purpose now was to become fuel for his growth.

Feeling resolved, Zareth took a step back before closing his eyes and activating [Ritual of Offering]. He’d felt Cerebon vaguely directing a portion of his attention on him for a while now, but the sensation immediately intensified with the formal beginning of the ceremony.

“Lord Cerebon, this faithful servant beseeches you to accept this offering in the hopes that you will honor him with your attention,” Zareth said without the slightest hesitation as he recited the first part of the oath.

He could feel divine energy swirling around him, the air heavy with anticipation.

“I humbly offer not only a trace of your fallen predecessor, but also my eternal renunciation of all other deities who you do not recognize,” Zareth continued, his voice firm and unwavering. “So long as you have me, I will endeavor to do everything in my power to further your designs on the mortal plane. Bestow on me the understanding of the infinite potential for transformation that exists within me and eternally free my form. Bestow on me the perspective few would dare to seek so that I may better follow my ever changing path. Bestow on me the honor of seeing the truth of your way, so that I may lead others to your wisdom.”

The second Zareth spoke the final words of his oath, he only had a moment to notice the divinity seeping out of the tome before his attention was consumed by a strange sensation. It started slowly at first, with his extremities tingling as if they were falling asleep, but rapidly intensified into a blazing inferno that was difficult to comprehend.

Every fiber of his being felt like it was being constantly pulled and stretched as Zareth’s body convulsed. He wouldn’t describe it as painful, but indescribably odd when his bones shifted, his muscles rippled, and his skin reformed at what felt like random. Every moment was a new experience, as the world around him melted away and became something new.

He was an avian creature, confident in his supremacy as he soared through the open skies with great wings, the feeling of wind ruffling through his feathers. Adrenaline coursed through him as he dove toward unsuspecting prey.

He was an aquatic insectoid creature, smaller than he had ever been and feeling the push and pull of water as he darted between deep ocean currents. Terror consumed him as he escaped from hungry predators.

He was a colossal terrestrial beast, powerful and heavy-set with a shell capable of withstanding any force; the world his to roam freely as he devoured everything in his path. Pride and dominance grew with each of his earthshaking steps.

Zareth experienced what felt like countless forms, some familiar and recognizable, such as a sleek panther with a silky coat or a slithering snake feeling the warmth of sun on its scales. Others were foreign and alien, such as a formless creature without eyes or ears that sensed the world only through vibrations.

However, it was the final transformation that he would end up remembering for the rest of his life.

It was strange, and for some reason seemed much more vague than his previous experiences.

Zareth was some kind of humanoid, with a slight build and large horns growing from his temples. He wore a comfortable cloak that felt bizarrely familiar and carried a staff that emanated terrible power. He stood somewhere high, looking down at an indistinct battlefield filled with countless beings that clashed for eons in a conflict he was somehow certain would soon end.

Zareth knew that he was powerful, but he could plainly see beings of incomprehensible strength laying dead on the field in front of him. The sight filled him with both contempt at the wasted potential… and fear that he would soon join them.

But that fear soon transformed into an unending well of resolve to grow beyond any conceivable limits.

Zareth could still feel the embers of that resolve burning within him when he regained his senses, hands and knees touching the floor of his laboratory as he panted with exhaustion. All of those visions were exactly what he’d been told to expect by Vidhatri, but that final one seemed qualitatively different from the rest.

Before he could fully consider the implications of this, Zareth was suddenly distracted by a System notification that he’d been fantasizing about for most of his second life.

Cultist has reached Level 25! Multiple Skill Points Gained! Class Evolutions Available!

It took a moment for the realization to sink through his general exhaustion and Vidhatri’s zealous celebrations. But when it did, a victorious grin split Zareth’s face and he didn’t hesitate to take a look at the potential new Classes as he stood up.

Available Class Evolution(s):

[Occult Ritualist] - Masters of esoteric ceremonies and arcane rites, Occult Ritualists specialize in their chosen deity to accomplish tasks few can replicate. They are adept in invoking blessings, summoning otherworldly entities, and can potentially draw from the Etherveil with sufficient training. Crowning Skill significantly enhances the potency of Rituals.

[Fleshwarper] - Focused on the manipulation of all organic matter, but especially their own, Fleshwarpers are masters of altering, enhancing, and weaponizing their bodies. They possess unparalleled control over their own biology and can transmute it beyond the bounds of conventional understanding. Crowning Skill grants a physiology capable of rapidly adapting to external stimuli.

[Cult Leader] - Pioneers in leading those who worship a deity shunned by some societies, Cult Leaders are charismatic individuals highly skilled in guiding and enhancing their followers. Possessing abilities granted by their chosen deity along with Skills dedicated to empowering their cult, they are a force to be reckoned with in both the spiritual and political realms. Crowning Skill grants the Cult Leader an intuitive understanding of how their followers can be best utilized to the cult’s benefit.

[Aesthetic Beastshaper] - Sculptors of living organisms, Aesthetic Beastshapers merge the realms of artistry and biology to craft living masterpieces. They reshape creatures, marrying form and function into beautiful yet deadly beings. Crowning Skill grants the ability to mold a creature directly from biomass, imprinting desired traits and features.

[Atavistic Apostle] - Scholars and practitioners of forgotten powers, Atavistic Apostles are those who seek the mysteries of the ancient path and benefit from their acquired knowledge. These few individuals are unrestricted in their ability to wield any form of power they can understand, such as the Etherveil or Divine Essence. Crowning Skill grants intuitive visions to decipher and harness lost knowledge.

[Cerebon’s Watcher] - Ever vigilant against the enemies of their god, Cerebon’s Watcher can pierce through illusions to see the true state of any being hiding behind them. Enemies caught by the gaze can be cursed by the watcher to suffer from a wide array of maladies. Crowning Skill significantly enhances the ability of their divinely bestowed eye.

[Fleshmender] - Specialized in the healing of bodies, the Fleshmender is uniquely capable of diagnosing maladies and reconstructing damaged tissue with unparalleled precision. Crowning Skill grants the ability to mend damage done to flesh through magical means.

“I have way more options than I had expected,” Zareth murmured to himself. “It is going to take a while for me to make a choice.”

He would need to consider each of them clearly, as this decision would be one that decided the course of his future. The most difficult part would be researching a more explicit description of the Crowning Skills offered by each Class, as the ones given by the System were too vague for his tastes.

It was fortunate that Vidhatri had arrived in Tal’Qamar just in time for him to seek her advice.

However, as he turned to the shivarath and saw that she’d transitioned from her celebrations directly into fanatically completing a prayer to Cerebon in gratitude for a successful ceremony.

Somehow, he had a feeling that it would be a while before she finished.

Rizok’s tail snapped from side to side in frustration as his [Aura of Greater Perception] once again failed to penetrate into the laboratory behind him.

He was normally able to get at least a vague understanding of what was happening within that room, despite its fairly robust magical defenses, but he had become completely unable to see anything shortly after that high-level shivarath went inside. It made Rizok deeply uncomfortable that he was currently incapable of watching over Zareth, for several reasons.

Not only was he genuinely fond of the ambitious [Cultist] and wished to ensure he was safe, but he also needed to stay aware of his activities now more than ever as a result of High Command’s intent to distribute land after the war.

That singular decision had the potential to change more than most people realized, and significantly increased Zareth’s importance.

That was why Rizok was barely able to stop himself from grinding his teeth when Zareth let himself be isolated alone with a powerful individual with questionable motivations. In hindsight, it was relatively unsurprising given Rizok could also be described by such a label from Zareth’s perspective and the strange human still tolerated his presence.

That didn’t make it any less frustrating.

It didn’t help that he’d felt the distinct sensation of divine power descend on the laboratory a few minutes ago, even through the wards.

There were few things in this world capable of making Rizok uneasy, but the machinations of deities were definitely among them.

Just as Rizok was weighing the benefits of repeating his attempt to look past the barrier, he suddenly felt a familiar presence breach the very edge of his [Aura of Perception] about a hundred feet away from the spire. They were just far enough that none of the [Guards] watching for people approaching the spires would take note of them.

The presence belonged to one of his fellow lizardkin named Virel, one of the few kesh’sisk in service to House Khrysar who had seen the truth and worked to further the same cause as himself. Virel’s assistance had been especially useful as of late with Zareth gaining the Great House as a political adversary.

Rizok would normally activate his rare enchanted ring to initiate a concealed telepathic conversation with them the moment they entered his range, but the risk of being discovered was too high.

There weren’t normally any individuals worthy of wariness within the cult of Cerebon’s spire, but Rizok had no way to know Vidhatri’s abilities so it was best to be cautious.

Thankfully, there was a contingency in place for this exact scenario.

It took a while for Virel to realize that their normal means of communication was compromised before he began sending the prearranged signals. Through a series of quick activations and deactivations of an enchanted amulet hidden beneath Virel shawl, Rizok was sent a coded message to arrange a meeting during his next break from guarding Zareth.

Given that it wasn’t worth the risk for Rizok to respond, Virel continued sending this message on loop every few minutes to make sure it was received before leaving.

Although Virel hadn’t sent a message marking the meeting as urgent, Rizok still found himself wondering what information needed to be shared with him. It most likely had to do with either some conspiracy against the cult of Cerebon or the ongoing state of the war. It was too dangerous for them to have unnecessary contact, so those were the only topics relevant to Rizok’s role that were important enough to warrant meeting.

Rizok was so lost in thought that it was only his Skill warning him of nearby movement that drew his attention back to reality. Snapping his attention back to the laboratory’s entrance, Rizok spotted Zareth emerging and nearly let out a sigh of relief to see that he was safe.

Just as he was about to greet the frustrating human, he suddenly froze as he noticed something different.

The ability to sense another person’s level was occasionally unreliable and not fully understood, but Rizok’s instincts were sufficiently honed that he could easily tell the difference between the various Class Evolution thresholds. It was the difference between embers that were slowly multiplying in a campfire and a blaze that had reached its true potential.

His sensation of Zareth felt stuck between those extremes, an indication that he had yet to select his actual Class Evolution.

It was impressive. He had watched Zareth grow from someone who was merely an abnormally competent young man to a budding leader worthy of recognition. But yet again, it seemed like he’d surpassed Rizok’s expectations and reached a milestone that usually only extremely talented or extremely privileged individuals achieved at a similar age.

“Congratulations, sir,” Rizok said with genuine warmth as the human made his way up from the laboratory. “You’ve grown at an impressive rate.”

“Thank you, Rizok. Forming this cult has been a… demanding experience, but definitely a rewarding one,” said Zareth, his eyes both tired and proud. “I’m glad that I finally achieved my Class Evolution so that I can better lead the people counting on me… among other things.”

That last part was said with a meaningful tone that made it clear to Rizok that the human still remembered his previous promise to discuss certain matters with him when he reached this threshold. Rizok glanced quickly at Vidhatri, who glared at him with a gaze full of suspicion from behind the young human, before looking back to Zareth and giving him a discreet nod.

After seeing his silent signal, a small smile grew on Zareth’s face as he continued on as if nothing happened.

“But for now, I’m done working for the day and all I want to do is celebrate,” said Zareth as he began walking up the spire and calling out to the nearby members of the cult. “Where is Tamir? Someone tell him to go to the Spicebloom Bazaar and get everyone some burfi. I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

Well at least the foreigner hasn’t influenced his personality with whatever deity related headache they were talking about, Rizok thought to himself with a hint of relief as he followed his charge.

He could only hope that Zareth would be able to maintain his demeanor moving into the future. Because the way things were developing, he had a feeling that the young [Cultist] was soon going to learn that the reward for gaining power was usually just heavier burdens.

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