“It’s a clever trick. They’re turning the rebellious aristocracy against me,” Kilian, who lounged on Lena’s lap, explained while Jezebel smoked vaporized dra from a vape pen. The six aistis sat around the couch.  

“On the outside, they’re deferring to my new status and enabling me to enjoy all von Skoll privileges in the open. But when the news spread, the aristocracy will investigate my background and realize I have 36 Unlocked Dra Roots but no attributes. Instantly, they will infer that the imperial family recruited and plans to turn me into their new weapon. With the von Skolls’ resources, setting up a ritual to give me at least one attribute is entirely doable. The Dark Eden Society is a prime example of that. From that point on, my value experiences a seismic change.” With a chuckle, Kilian rose in the couch, and from his watch summoned a chart detailing Rupert’s current advances.  

“To the aristocracy, the von Skolls are at their weakest. With Rupert’s military successes, many must believe that the dynasty nears its end. The fence-sitters will soon make a stand, and it won’t be in favor of the imperial family. For too long those nobles have been wanting to get rid of the Arcadian Emperors’ absolute power. Ayden’s recent bullying and Niklas’ mass-purges only give them more reasons to.

How then can they tolerate a new weapon with the potential of becoming a hundred times more dreadful than Niklas? No, even before they join Rupert, the fence-sitters will prepare my murder. If they fail, the von Skoll assassins strike and shift the blame. If they succeed, all the better.” While Jezebel and Lena didn’t show much surprise, as they listened to Kilian’s words, the aistis’ eyes blazed with fury.

On the one hand, never could they expect that the imperial family would be so crazed as to reject the will of Adramelech, and turn against his herald. On the other hand, after turning into Kilian’s Fehl Shifters, he became their raison d’être. Those that threatened him all deserved to die.

“Never mind. If the elder council wants to play, let’s play. From now on, until the Sura Hunting Game begins, act in the most tyrannical manner possible. Let’s give them the impression that my new status got over my head, and hasten their planning,” Kilian told the ladies, then connected to the high priest’s mind.

“Make a formal marriage proposal to Gerlach for his daughter’s hand and spread the news throughout Arcadia. The answer doesn’t matter. Also, have the Duke of Verden publically abdicate his titles to Olaf von Verden. Make sure the world deduces it all stems from my will.” Though startled by Kilian’s order, the 340 years old high priest didn’t delay and carried on his task.

Closing his eyes, Kilian was about to dive into the Hellforge when Jezebel’s voice echoed in his mind.

“Ready to play the alchemist?”

“Mhm.”

“Try not to make it flawless.”

“I will try my best and accept the result. However, going in to create a defective product is not my style.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. Flawless stones drive trouble. Across the ages, they often brought their owners more harm than good.”

“There is no end of legends of men whose greed for immortality incurred nature’s wrath, making them bear the mark of their greed throughout the rest of their lives. But the cases are so few that even you don’t know much on the topic. In any case, with all the big guns surrounding me, I dare say that if I die early, it won’t be because of greed.

Who knows, perhaps I will just get fed up of all the wretches and leap off the edge of a cliff.” Kilian ended the exchange with a jest, and went back to the Hellforge.

With three more weeks before the Sura Hunting Game, Kilian dared not waste any time. And while he reviewed the hendecagram ritual circle he’d prepared beforehand, Adam gathered the magi. Six hours later, he delivered the 100 High Emissaries. Bringing them into the Hellforge, Kilian settled them on the hendecagram, knocked them out, and in a pain-free process, extracted their souls.

The creation of a Philosopher’s Stone followed five steps: Corruption, Dissolution, Merge, Condensation and Crystallization.

However, with dark-gray or black souls, Dark Philosophers could skip the Corruption stage. Joining his hands in a prayer sign, Kilian bound his dra to the 100 hovering souls, and through his Lv. 4 Transmutation, started melting their individuality to accomplish the second stage: Dissolution.

Across six hours of spiritual flaying, the souls lost their uniqueness and bond to their original selves—lost their human shape—and became floating masses of dark fog. Moving his hands in esoteric gestures, Kilian spent another five hours to force the dark fog into one single soul orb, and slam it into his hendecagram. Dark light surged from the circle’s center, filling the Hellforge with the eerie, nefarious energies its name deserved.

For the first time since the ritual’s start, Kilian’s limbs trembled under the process’ strain, his eyes went bloodshot, and sweat poured from his forehead. This step, the Condensation, was the ritual’s most sensitive part. The united, depraved souls would clash with Kilian—resist his control—and attempt to force their way out of the Hellforge to seek a new future. Many Dark Philosophers failed at this step, and either perished from the backlash or ended up possessed by the amalgam of dark souls.

From the moment Kilian destroyed their individuality, he no longer held any sway over those souls. But as his knees wavered under their resistance, he closed his eyes, sang the Gospel of Pandemonium, and shaped his dra into an invisible cage that forced the souls into submission.

Without delay, Kilian slammed his hands on the ritual circle, transmuting the united souls into a blood-red liquid that twisted in the center as if animated by restless revenants.

Now came the final part: Crystallization.

At this stage, it was all about Dra Control. Freeing his mind of all unnecessary thoughts, Kilian levitated the liquid 15 centimeters off the ground and slammed his hands together in a thunderous clap. The circle’s esoteric lines shone with blinding light—the stretching and twisting came to a halt—and the blood-red substance morphed into a scarlet bead.

Kilian beckoned, pulling the bead into his hand with a surge of telekinetic forces. It landed right within. His lips curled into a lopsided smile, but before he could relish in his creation, Kilian felt the world around him spin, his legs gave out, and he collapsed on the ground. Unbeknown to Kilian, a foreign force attempted to yank the scarlet bead out of his grasp. Still, his hand refused to let go—keeping it tightly clenched within. The move sealed his fate.

Not many things went against the natural order. After all, man’s definition of natural didn’t equal nature’s. Yet, nature still agreed on one thing: no matter how long-lived, all things should die.

Therefore, immortal races or tools that led to immortality, all carried various curses.

Fehls thrived on vice and waged an eternal war among themselves, thrones couldn’t find love in any form, suras were destined to weakness and abuse, chiropterans hungered across eons, and the undead decayed.

As for Kilian, his mind drifted to a vast, dark-green world where hurricanes of gold coins, jewels, artifacts and all imaginable riches stretched far and wide. Amidst the whirlpool of wealth, a chalky-white serpent hovered, coiling on itself. Almost 100 meters tall, the serpent gripped Kilian’s attention, making him forget about the boundless wealth at arm’s reach.

“A soul worth of 50,000, a Dra Reserve of 100,000. Bred in a flawless process, can be recharged or upgraded. Your Philosopher’s Stone has no flaws. But a flawless stone means potential immortality, and immortals must bear curses. You can either allow me to destroy the stone, or bear the Mark of Greed. Which one will it be?” The serpent asked as its slit, blood-red eyes locked on Kilian.

While 99% of Philosopher’s Stones carried enough flaws that they escaped nature’s regulations—those that like Kilian’s reached perfection—all had to cross this pass.

“Another mark? At this point I might as well open a tattoo parlor,” Kilian jested, but his words sparked nothing in the serpent who merely stared at him.

“All right, although I know that across the ages some Dark Philosophers triggered the Mark of Greed, its abilities are not well documented. I need details. Can it help me on my quest or is it just a curse?”

“That will depend on your choices and perception. The Eye of Fehl and Marks on your body grant you unique abilities, but also bring you closer to Fehl Ascension. For some, they are craved blessings, for others, revolting curses.

Marks always carry boons and drawbacks. Perks aside, Ashera’s stimulates vices and lust, while Adramelech’s promotes wolfish cunning and ruthlessness. In your eyes, are those drawbacks?

Some of your universe’s mightiest entities chose you for their plans and guaranteed you a radiant future in servitude. Even Klaus rarely did anything he didn’t think was in your best interest.

In many onlookers’ eyes, you are blessed. But in yours, Klaus, Ashera, Adramelech, and even Fehl, all need a good swat. You want power to fulfill your dreams, power to break free of the fate woven by those existences.

In that respect, you remind me of Arkhan. Born without free will, yet now stands at the pinnacle of the universe. And still—he yearns for more—trapped in the infinite cycle of his own greed. Perhaps you will follow in his tracks. After all, you two are closer than you know. But since his rise started here, I suppose you can say that for him, the Mark was a blessing.” Here the serpent paused, recalling his meeting with the Hellforge’s creator before moving on.

“Greed has driven humanity for tens of thousands of years. Control it and the world of men can’t resist you. Fail and like the rest, you will become its slave. The mark opens the two roads. Though let me warn you, regardless of what you choose, you won’t remember my existence. Only Hierarchs or above can.” Which meant that if the serpent destroyed the stone, Kilian would wake up thinking he’d failed the transmutation, start-over, and keep going until he created a flawed product, or gave up.  

For a moment, he closed his eyes, weighing the options before him with a serene look. When he opened them, hesitation didn’t ripple in his gaze.

“Bring it on.”

The serpent spoke no further. A blinding flash of light surged from his gaze, and Kilian returned to the outside world. A tiny ouroboros sigil appeared on his neck. But unlike the one he hexed his early victims with, the serpent’s eyes glowed with a dark-green sheen: the Mark of Greed.

And in an unexpected twist, the mark absorbed both Ashera’s and Adramelech’s Marks, integrating their powers while cutting the connection to the two.