Fleshcrafting Technomancer 51 Song Of The Blood Seraph Part 1

"It's my fault, I should have seen it coming. Back then I let him drink my blood, thinking that with his willpower, Meditation Chant and focus, he would overcome the side effects. And he did," Jezebel began, tapping the table with her left fingers.

"Unfortunately, long-before he could fully digest the blood and erase all side effects, he suffered a Revelation—thus getting weakened to the point the lingering blood could seep into his brain.

On the one hand, it made him even stronger, on the other hand, it corrupted his mind, and threw him on the path of extreme decadence," Jezebel was no alarmist, if Kilian had not already fallen into dire straits, she would never hold such a conversation. Knowing that, Lena clutched her thighs.

"Is there nothing you can do to stop it?" She inquired. Though currently weakened, Jezebel's knowledge on fehl matters exceeded all theirs. And even if they could find someone else, did they dare bring in outsiders?

"For a mutant to descend into decadence-driven madness is a natural process. Even without my blood, with the Eye of Fehl on his forehead, that day would come sooner or later.

Now we only have three roads. First, he starts drinking my blood in small doses. It will help him regain control while making his strength rise at a much faster pace. But if we choose that option, in less than three months, Kilian will become a daemon. No way around it." Consuming a high-ranking fehl's blood was the most common way for rising to daemonhood.

In fact, all rituals and contracts leading to fehl ascension involved fehl blood. But while many would kill for the opportunity, Jezebel knew that for now, Kilian had no such intent.

"But upon ascending to daemonhood, Kilian's body will collapse and rematerialize into the Fehl Plane. Even with his Eye, getting back won't be that simple. And when he does, depending on how strong he became, the Mortal Plane will start shackling him.

As for the other roads, either Kilian figures it out, or endures long enough for me to recover enough powers to cleanse his brain and psyche." The words brought Lena no comfort, and biting her lower lip, she stormed out, abandoning Jezebel to lonely sighs.

Meanwhile, Kilian endured the hards.h.i.+ps of cla.s.ses he knew everything about.

"Provide enough energy to strip all electrons from atoms, to make ions and electrons roam freely, and you get plasma. As you now know, achieving that without Archon-level dra control is unfeasible. And even then, without the Arcanum of Plasma, we can only incorporate it into weapons. Firing plasma beams based on dra control alone, is, as of yet, impossible," the Brown Robe Technomancy Professor, a middle-aged man, and top-level High Emissary, explained to a cla.s.s of 14 students.

As a major, for multiple reasons, Technomancy had always stood at the bottom of the popularity barrel. On the one hand, technomancers were the most regulated magi of Arcadia. On the other hand, unless they worked for the imperial family, they had no future. For those high-ranking n.o.bles, that was of course not acceptable. But above all those, another issue was that Arcadia's current Technomancy advancement didn't have any practical battle skills. Though technomancers could create and control vast arrays of weapons, once deprived of those, magi of the same tier would easily maul them.

Therefore, only those with low-future prospects or an extreme pa.s.sion for the field chose it as their major. Although he could already apply for a silver robe, to prevent needless talks, Kilian kept his brown robe, and for the past two weeks, attended all cla.s.ses.

Initially, he planned to get perfect grades on the first a.s.signments, and after establis.h.i.+ng his reputation as an outstanding student, ruin it all with complete failures. Only then could he get the attention of his first target: Esther zu Ruhkfort, the Chair of Technomancy.

Born of an eldar slave, though Esther was the daughter of the Grand Duke of Ruhkfort, number three duke of Arcadia, her status in the house had always been shallow. So shallow in fact, that the Grand Duke married her to King Erik of Orloth. Because she rarely made public appearances, not many knew that Orloth's queen was half eldar, and the youngest department chair of the Imperial Academy.

Moreover, according to his intel, Erik and Esther had quite a bit of buried enmity.

Kilian's plans for the fehl country made two people indispensable: Esther, and her daughter, Carmen.

With those two, he could make the fatuous King Erik his puppet, and wildly spread fehl mutations throughout Orloth's aristocracy, thereby forcing them to accept the fehl taint, reject the empire's laws for his, and strive for survival. Only then would he deal with Klaus.

At least, that was the original plan. But as he dozed off in the technomancy cla.s.s, Kilian was starting to reconsider the plan. Perhaps he should just get into Ayden's good graces, marry into the imperial family, and spread the taint within house von Skoll.

Now that would be a lot more entertaining.

"Kilian zu Verden!" The instructor's voice thundered with a gush of spittle that splashed the poor student at the front row. Snapping out of his torpor, Kilian was startled to see the entire cla.s.s' eyes locked on him.

"You've not even pa.s.sed the Silver Robe examination that you're already looking down on your instructors? What, do you think your 36 Unlocked Roots make you special?" The professor spat. Though Kilian's results so far remained irreproachable, his nonchalant att.i.tude displeased all his instructors.

"If I told you that I spent the entire night working on enhancing my new abominations, would you believe me?" Kilian seriously asked, causing several students to chuckle while others shook their heads.

Seeing that none believed him, Kilian shrugged and stretched out his hands.

Carmen, who had not expected her fellow top student to be the troublemaking sort, squinted her silver eyes at him.

"Haha, you think you're funny? Well then, you have three seconds to tell me what an Arcanum is, and how it applies to spellcasting," the instructor fired the first thing that crossed his mind. Kilian wished to argue that he just tried telling the truth, but reasoned against it.

"With all due respect, this is Introductory Technomancy, not Introduction to Magical Theory. But, an Arcanum is the lore of a magical discipline. For example, the Arcana of Fire, Light and Sanct.i.ty, without grasping them to a certain degree, magi can't use Fire, Light, or Holy Magic.

In retrospect, master an Arcanum, and even without learning traditional spells, you can create your own.

Complete knowledge of all Basic Disciplines' Arcana is one of the requirements to become an Archon," Kilian replied, stood up, and stepped out of the room, leaving behind a bewildered instructor and his students.

Leaving mid-cla.s.s might carry no penalty, but would undoubtedly grab the attention of the department's instructors, and perhaps, hasten the meeting with the chair. But this wasn't the main reason of Kilian's move.

No.

He was just hungry.

Since he awoke from his Revelation, he discovered a new pa.s.sion for turkey tails that grew into insatiable food cravings. And thinking of how he'd just broken his professor's heart, Kilian couldn't help but rub his guilt-ridden chest. How did he even turn into this kind of student, he wondered.

"Men bark because they care. In the future, I will either attend your cla.s.s with full attention, or not attend at all," Kilian told himself as he crossed the academy's tall hallways. Students of various ages and robes went back and forth, some heading toward cla.s.ses, while others returned to their suites.

But as Kilian neared a teleportation circle, a feminine voice echoed from his back.

"Wait!"

Stopped in his tracks, Kilian turned to face the disturbance, and was surprised to see Carmen standing before him. Exasperation flashed in her outlandish, silver eyes, telling Kilian that she didn't skip cla.s.s to taste his abs.

"How may I help you, princess?" Kilian directly asked. As a citizen of Orloth, he couldn't show a lack of decorum. That would be rude.

Dressed in the same brown wizard robe that struggled to not highlight her curves, for a second, Carmen appraised Kilian's eyes, seeking in them the determination of one who strove to excel. She couldn't.

"At first I hoped that though you didn't have any attribute, you'd fight for a better future. Unfortunately, it seems I misread you," Carmen remarked. Unlike Kilian, she didn't major in technomancy, and only took the course to get closer to her distant mother.

"Straight to the point, princess. I have 15 turkey tails waiting for me," Kilian coolly replied, with his mind focused on the scent he currently missed. At first, Carmen wondered if he wasn't making fun of her, but then reckoned it was irrelevant and pursued:

"My maternal uncle, Ernst von Ruhkfort, heir to the Grand Duchy of Ruhkfort, has eyes on your maid. Don't misunderstand, though a notorious lecher, he also leads an upscale slave-trading organization for his father, and hunts women of substantial ties to lesser n.o.bility. Maids, childhood friends, sisters or daughters of fallen n.o.bles. As long as he can tie a helpless beauty to a powerless n.o.ble name, she will sell for a sky-high price.

Typically, he starts by making them believe he fancies them, has his fun, then sells them in grand auctions. Of course, if she doesn't offer herself, he won't hesitate to force her hand. If you care about her safety, you should stop her from roaming around," Carmen warned. As a woman, she loathed nothing more than men who abused their power and station to coerce women into submission.

Unfortunately, she didn't have the strength to resolve this situation.

Never did she expect that her words would stretch Kilian's lips into a broad grin. Worse, in his eyes, antic.i.p.ation and surprise intertwined.

"Oh no! Is that so?"