While Kilian jack-hammered the aisti, the observers didn’t stay idle, increasing the rhythm of their eldritch songs even as they struggled with the urges consuming them. The lavender fumes coalesced in a ball of occult energies that fired a ray of dark light at Kilian’s forehead.

Ignoring it, he indulged in the pounding, indulged in the aisti’s unrestrained moans, the sensation of her rump smacking on his rod, and of her slick insides sucking him in. The night became a blur. The aistis took turns on Kilian’s cock, milking his balls of all their spunk in their first-class cum-drainers. As the sixth clutched the pool’s edge, hammered by Kilian’s meat-slab—the ritual reached its end—making his 75% dra boost turn into a passive ability.

From that moment on, every time he gained additional dra, it would increase by 75%. A unique gift from Adramelech to his herald. Mind-boggled by the hypnotic fumes, the dozens of members failed to realize that the sixth aisti aside, the others had now turned into harpy-like monster girls. Though their curves still varied, all possessed the clawed, feathered legs, and arms of harpies, with large, ultramarine wings sprouting from their hands, and peacock tails from their backs.

After Kilian busted his nut in the sixth’s cunt, she too took that form. Thanks to the conflict between Ashera’s Mark and Adramelech’s, Kilian spunk skipped one stage, now directly turning his partners into Fehl Shifters. Moreover, following the herald’s coronation ritual, the aistis that served him would obtain fehl blessings, and rise to low-level Archons with Adramelech-given arcane knowledge.

Still, with their current level of experience, a true Archon wouldn’t take long to dispose of them. As for why they all took the same appearance? Their aisti training was to blame. With the sixth aisti’s blissful fall, the ritual officially ended. Yet, Kilian didn’t stop, and beckoned for the three female chairs to join him in the pool—they didn’t waste a second.

In tandem, the three tossed off their cloaks and dresses, leaped into the pool, and pressed their voluptuous curves on Kilian. Driven by their trance-like state, the remaining society members abandoned themselves to a wild orgy, rutting across four hours before the fumes’ effects ran out, and their limbs gave out. By now, Kilian lay on the ground, covered by the six aistis and three department chairs whose tongues flopped out over their lips.

Sweat and sexual fluids entwined to moisten the bodies and earth below. The pool turned into billowing steam and vanished from the ritual grounds. Pushing the ladies aside, Kilian checked his status screen.

---
[Name: Kilian]
[Race: Half Fehl]
[Age: 18]
[Magus Rank: low-level High Emissary]
[Battle Prowess: mid-level Fehl Noble]
[Dra Reserves: 47,280]
[Knowledge Points: 1,072]
[Implants: Lv. 2 Cyberkinesis Chip]
[Mutations: Stage II Eye of Fehl, Fehl Heart]
[Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation, Gift of Adramelech]
[Bloodline Abilities: Atomkinesis, Daemonic Wolf Form]
[Unique Disciplines: Lv. 4 Fleshcrafting<>Lv. 4 Transmutation]
---

The results brought no surprise. After having his genes adjusted to match Adramelech’s, and receiving nine drops of his blood, it would be strange if Kilian didn’t step closer to daemonhood. With a fehl heart, his regeneration abilities not only drastically improved, but unless beheaded, he couldn’t die. His lifespan also tripled. Yet, in Kilian’s eyes, even immortality didn’t have much appeal. Unless he broke free of Ashera’s contract, the day his mind no longer pursued any goal on the Mortal Plane, his body would vanish from this world, and rematerialize in Ashera’s domain.

Undisturbed, Kilian stood up. Interestingly, the Hellforge no longer appraised his Battle Prowess on human magus standards—using Fehl ranks instead. At the same level the average fehl could effortlessly maul ten human magi, meaning that before the current Kilian, ten mid-level Archons weren’t worth more than punching bags.

Crossing the altar’s stairs, Kilian picked the four relics and stored them in his watch. But while each possessed marvelous abilities, the Ring of Change appealed to him the most. The oldest of the four relics, the ring granted its owner access to three abilities, each with three uses per day and lasting for 15 minutes: Invisibility, Emotion Reversal, and Power Swapping.

Self-explanatory, Invisibility enabled its user to vanish from sight. As long as the ring-owner didn’t use offensive moves or cast spells, the cloak would remain unbroken. Next, Emotion Reversal enabled the ring’s owner to pick an emotion in the victims and turn it into its opposite. Love to hatred, loyalty to disloyalty, gentleness to brutality—unless the target’s magical powers exceeded Kilian’s by more than one rank—they couldn’t resist. As for Power Swapping, with it Kilian could force two individuals to swap their magical abilities, and again, they couldn’t exceed him by more than one rank.

In this ring, Kilian saw endless possibilities. Retrieving his clothes, he got dressed, and with a smile, walked toward Adam who lay inert between two society members.

“Wake up,” he ordered, using the soul bond to force Adam out of his dreams. The von Skoll’s eyes opened wide, and he kneeled toward Kilian.

“Your Eminence, how may I assist you?” Adam inquired in such a respectful tone that a bystander would have mistaken Kilian for the emperor.

“I will summon the three War Priests and the High Priest to the Imperial Academy. Arrange their immediate arrival. Also, pick the weakest 100 society members at High Emissary rank and send them to me.”

“At once!” Undisturbed by the command, Adam bowed and took his leave, not even bothering to ask why Kilian wanted those 100 members. Although the Dark Eden Society controlled over 13,000 High Emissaries, as the new master, Kilian couldn’t cripple his own legs. After stripping the 100 of their souls, he would fleshcraft them into human-war-machines, and return them to the society.

With nothing else to do, Kilian contacted the Dark Eden’s four exarchs, ordering them to join the academy as soon as possible. Little did he expect that they already were on the way. Bringing the aistis alongside him, Kilian returned to his quarters. Back in his chambers, Jezebel and Lena played a card game—awaiting his return.

But seeing him walk in with six submissive bombshells, Jezebel burst into laughter.

“Ha! See Lena? This is what I was telling you about. We call this pokemon hunting,” she chortled. The words put no smile on Lena’s lips, and annoyed, she dropped her cards.

“I don’t think this is funny. This is an invasion, an invasion! One room can only hold so many, and if we don’t discuss strategies to ogle Master’s love, we will soon be out on the streets!” She exclaimed as if forgetting that seven others stood in the room. Unprepared for such words, Kilian tripped—almost falling face first.

On the following day, as the civil war still raged, the elder council made a startling announcement, and officially had Kilian adopted into the imperial family, with a high-ranking von Skoll elder serving as his foster father. And to the aristocracy’s stupor—Kilian received the “von” of true kinsmen—becoming an imperial descendant.

In a flash, the name “Kilian von Skoll” swept through the Arcadian aristocracy, prompting all nobles to investigate his background, potential and abilities. When the news reached him, Kilian saw through the ploy and realized...that the battle had already begun.