Cultist of Cerebon - Chapter 35

Zareth had been beyond relieved when the reinforcements from Tal’Qamar had finally arrived, along with a capable [Military Administrator] ready to help him bring the settlement under order.

He had been even more relieved once matters had been settled enough that he could finally set out on his journey back to more civilized lands, where pale-skinned ogres weren’t eager to see him dead.

It was then that General Nasrith’s aptitude as a leader demonstrated itself, as Archmage Agnazir revealed that a part of his agreement with High Command included delivering Zareth and his companions to Tal’Qamar in short order. This was a massive assistance, as it meant Zareth wouldn’t have to trek through the harsh desert sun for several weeks, or risk being attacked on the way back.

While he might have left Tal’Qamar with an itch for adventure, assassination attempts, evil cultists, and overbearing Archmages had left it more than satisfied. Zareth honestly couldn’t wait to return to the safety of his spire and relax for a while… at least until he needed to deal with all the nonsense that would no doubt come his way.

Zareth’s only complaint was that he had to leave behind most of his retinue in Jabal-Alma, and not all of his companions seemed to share his good mood. Although, that could probably be understood given Archmage Agnazir’s chosen means of transportation.

“By the Weaver’s grace, how much longer until we arrive?!” Vidhatri bellowed over the roaring winds, all four of her eyes closed. 

“I’ve passed through these lands on enough military campaigns to recognize that we’re close. We passed by Tal’Hadin several hours ago and the mountains along the Emperor’s Range are gradually growing shorter, meaning we are close to Qamar’s Gorge! We should be fast approaching Tal’Qamar.”

“How you can stand looking at our surroundings, I’ll never know. Shivarath were not meant to fly through the air as if we were Talonfolk!”

“If you’re afraid, I’ll be perfectly willing to comfort you when we land.”

“Shut up, heathen!”

Of all the people Zareth would have guessed to be afraid of heights, Vidhatri would have been last on the list. But Rizok was definitely enjoying the opportunity to relentlessly tease her about it.

Apparently, Archmage Agnazir had been able to arrive in Jabal-Alma so quickly by flying across the desert while being carried by air elementals, which Zareth and his companions were now experiencing themselves. It was certainly much faster and more convenient, but being held aloft nearly fifty feet in the air by an invisible creature outside of your control was not everyone’s idea of a pleasant journey.

“Could the two of you wait to stop flirting until I’m not forced to listen to it?” Zareth shouted over the wind, causing Vidhatri to briefly glare at him before immediately flinching at the view and shutting her eyes again.

Rizok merely let out a boisterous laugh, enjoying himself much more than either of them. “Envy doesn’t suit you, Zareth. Maybe you’d be less bothered by our affection if you’d allowed yourself some pleasure in Jabal-Alma.”

Zareth’s face involuntarily twisted in distaste as he recalled all of the propositions that he had received after the citizens of Jabal-Alma realized he wasn’t going to impose draconian measures. Many of the more influential families saw no issue at all with attempting to curry favors and were very blunt about their intentions. 

The vast majority of their leaders had been either killed or arrested for working with the Cult of the Unfettered One, so their families were desperate to maintain what influence they could.

He wasn’t exactly a prude… but Zareth wasn’t all that interested in being thrown around like a piece of meat by seven-foot-tall ogre women who would be expecting him to repay her with political favors. Living for more than two decades in a fantasy world with permissive views on sex and multiple non-human races had made him a bit more open-minded, but the overt political maneuvering just made it feel gross.

It certainly didn't help when one of the clan’s leaders had concluded that he must prefer men after Zareth turned down one too many of his daughters and decided to… take matters into his own hands. 

He shuddered as Rizok’s laughter grew louder, likely knowing exactly what Zareth was remembering even if he was too kind to bring up the details. 

Unfortunately, Vidhatri had no such reservations.

“Indeed! To indulge in the pleasures of flesh is a perfectly acceptable means of worshiping the Weave of Sinews,” said Vidhatri, a teasing smirk across her lips as she spoke in Zareth’s general direction. “And Elder Korgul certainly had an impressive amount of flesh for you to enj—”

Vidhatri’s words were cut off as Zareth activated his Minor Decrease Gravity Sigil and sent her suddenly hurtling upwards with an uncharacteristic cry of panic. 

Zareth eyed Rizok threateningly, who merely chuckled and raised his hands in surrender as the air elemental carrying Vidhatri gradually got itself back under control. 

“You. Even if you’re Cerebon’s chosen, I will repay you for this insult,” said Vidhatri once she returned to their side. Zareth would have normally been much more threatened by the Senior Fleshwarper’s words, but it was hard to feel that way when she looked like she was about to vomit.

“I’m sure Rizok’s more than willing to endure you venting your frustration,” Zareth said with a smug smirk as he glanced toward the lizardkin. “Besides, you should do your best to get over your fear of heights. Once we return to Tal’Qamar, I intend to invest my time in figuring out how to finally give myself some working wings. This is far too convenient for me to give up and I doubt Agnazir’s willing to create an elemental whenever I need to go somewhere.”

Not only would he need a reliable means of traveling from Tal’Qamar to his territory in the south, but Zareth simply relished the chance to avoid potential ambushes while enjoying a beautiful view.

The Qahtani Desert stretched out endlessly beneath them, a vast canvas of shifting sands and towering dunes that seemed to dance with the wind. His third eye only enhanced his wonder, allowing him to see far off into the distance until the curvature of the planet itself limited his view. It also allowed him to spot the brilliant magical aura of creatures hiding in the sands, which itself was an interesting spectacle.

Even now he could see a team of Adventurers off in the distance fighting against a Lesser Sandwyrm. Zareth didn’t think he’d ever be satisfied spending weeks traveling the desert now that he’d experienced the convenience of flight.

“You’d be better off hiring a sufficiently high leveled [Artificer] to craft you a flying artifact given I doubt you’ll be able to spend much time in your laboratory,” said Rizok, cruelly reminding him about the long list of tasks awaiting him in Tal’Qamar. “Though it’d likely cost you a mountain of gold. There’s a good reason that High Command prefers training [Aeromancers] for aerial operations rather than using such artifacts.”

Zareth knew that Rizok was likely right that he wouldn’t have much time to spend in the laboratory. A decent chunk of his time would be spent fulfilling the terms of his agreement with General Nasrith, dealing with various administrative tasks, and talking with the Tessik about what he’d learned from the slate given to him by Agnazir.

Even what time he did spend in the laboratory would need to prioritize the creation of an organ capable of feeding Jabal-Alma’s Ether eating populace. And that wasn’t even taking into account his upcoming conversation with Cerebon, which he could only pray didn’t result in him delving into another ancient temple.

I definitely need to start delegating some of these tasks. My responsibilities keep growing, and it won’t be possible for me to continue like this for much longer.

“Cerebon be blessed! Finally!”

Vidhatri’s exclamation drew Zareth’s attention away from his thoughts, and he followed her gaze to the silhouette of a familiar city in the distance. From the Desharin and their sand elementals moving about in their district north of the city to the majestic structures rising from the Spire Garden to the glittering waters of the oasis that sustained the city, the sight of Tal’Qamar was honestly like a balm to Zareth’s soul.

A part of him had always… held himself separate from the people here due to his having lived an entirely different life, but he hadn’t known just how much Tal’Qamar had etched itself into his bones until this moment. 

It wasn’t the fairest of cities. It didn’t take care of its people as well as Zareth thought it should, and its politics were a nest of vipers waiting to strike at the first sign of weakness. 

Yet despite all of that, Tal’Qamar was his home, and spending his time away only filled him with an urge to change it into a place worthy of what he was currently feeling. Zareth was brought back to reality when he felt a weight on his shoulder, before turning to see that Rizok floated to his side and was looking toward the city with a complicated expression.

“I felt the same way after I returned from my first military campaign abroad,” said Rizok, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Relieved to finally be home despite its many flaws. That… didn’t last as those flaws gradually grew more apparent and frustrating with every passing year, to the point that I no longer enjoyed seeing the city rising over the horizon. I didn’t believe I’d ever again feel the way I once did, but what you’ve managed to accomplish and the hope I have for what is to come has changed that. So… thank you.”

Rizok’s sincerity was palpable, and it filled Zareth’s heart with a mixture of warmth and embarrassment. It made sense that Rizok would be so excited, as they’d just finished a dangerous journey together and Zareth having de-facto secured Jabal-Alma meant that the Tessik would soon have territory where they could operate with a significantly lower risk of discovery.

Not to mention what access to the Nephalan ruins would do for their goal of rediscovering and preserving lizardkin culture.

Still, Zareth wasn’t sure that he could withstand such intense praise. He was suddenly very grateful that he could control the capillaries in his face and stop himself from turning as red as an apple. 

“You’re welcome, Rizok, and thank you for your support. I doubt that anyone else would have been able to keep me alive this long,” said Zareth, nodding toward his friend with a genuine gratitude before smirking slightly. “You’ll definitely have your work cut out for you on that account soon enough. I have a feeling that I’m going to be making a decent number of enemies in the near future.”

Rizok scoffed and rolled his eyes before responding. “Hmph. And this is different from our normal circumstances, how? If you could go more than six months without being attacked by [Assassins], I would be surprised and grateful.”

“No promises on that front,” Zareth said with a chuckle.

The two of them quietly enjoyed their moment of camaraderie for a while longer, Tal’Qamar growing closer with each passing second. At least… until the silence was broken by Vidhatri, with the shivarath studying them briefly before commenting.

“To be explicitly clear, I am not a person prone to sharing their bed partn—”

Zareth ignored the sound of Vidhatri yelling as she once again went flying off into the distance, his Minor Decrease Gravity ensuring that she couldn’t give voice to whatever nonsense she was about to say.

As Tal’Qamar drew nearer, Zareth began to see [Scouts] along the walls pointing in their direction before a few [Aeromancers] were mobilized to protect the city’s air space. Fortunately, Zareth had already warned High Command of his arrival ahead of time via his flesh golem and ensured that they would be given safe passage. 

The approach to the city was carefully controlled by the [Aeromancers], who guided them to land at a designated area near High Command’s headquarters. A group of [War Mages] and [Investigators] were there waiting to ensure that they weren’t shapeshifters attempting to infiltrate the city in the most creative way possible or under some kind of magical compulsion, but Zareth and his companions were quickly cleared and allowed to leave. He would eventually need to give High Command a proper debrief of everything that had happened—as barely legible scribbles produced by a flesh golem weren’t the best way of communicating.

Lady Marilith had also requested that he visit her manor as soon as possible, but Zareth arranged for all of his various meetings to be pushed back until tomorrow. 

Not only was he tired and wanted to return to his spire, but he could feel the weight of Cerebon’s attention settle over him the moment he entered Tal’Qamar.

The god had made it perfectly clear that he wanted to have a conversation when he granted Zareth [Cerebon’s Greater Boon], and he had a feeling that gods weren’t ones to accept being deprioritized.

Despite having had a presence in Tal’Qamar and keeping himself relatively informed about what was happening, Zareth still found himself somewhat surprised by the changes he noticed as he walked toward the Spire Gardens. It would’ve been difficult to pick out if he hadn’t lived here for most of his life, but the people seemed marginally healthier, happier, and generally more attractive.

As he walked through the Spicebloom Bazaar, Zareth even noticed that some of the pedestrians had aesthetic features that were clearly unnatural for their races.

Humans with brightly colored hair, slit eyes like a lizardkin, or even beautifully colored scales along the sides or their face or on their shoulders. Several lizardkin had made modifications to their tails, such as adding spikes or elongating them beyond what was typical, while others had interesting symbols etched into their scales. 

Zareth didn’t see any ogres with noticeable aesthetic modifications—which made sense given what he’d learned about Tal’Qamari ogres rejecting the magical adaptability of their species. He also didn’t see any naga who’d significantly changed their forms, though Zareth had a suspicion that was most likely due to a sense of superiority more than anything else.

Most of the aesthetic modifications that Zareth could see were relatively modest and at least appeared natural, but it was still surreal for him to see that so many people had taken part in his cult’s services.

“This… I’ve already seen the effectiveness of your cult’s strategy for dealing with heathens and I always held faith in our god’s clear approval of your actions,” Vidhatri began, her tone a mixture of admiration and envy as her four eyes scanned their surroundings. “But to see the Weaver’s influence spread so thoroughly and with such easy acceptance among the populace…”

Vidhatri trailed off and left her statement unfinished, a rare moment of speechlessness from someone who was usually so composed. Zareth had always known tha aesthetic augmentations would be extremely popular so long as the cult wasn’t seen in a poor light, but someone who had grown up in an entirely different context like Vidhatri wouldn’t have seen this coming.

One unexpected benefit of more people in Tal’Qamar having unnatural features was that Zareth and Vidhatri suddenly stood out far less than before, which allowed them to walk through the streets without being constantly followed by stares. It wasn’t long before Zareth and his companions arrived at the cult’s spire, which had gone through significant visual changes since Rizok and Vidhatri had last seen it.

“Impressive. This spire looks more and more like a proper home for the Weaver of Sinews servants with each passing day,” Vidhatri said with clear appreciation as she studied the layer of flesh creeping up the spire’s stone facade. “It shall not be long before every heathen in Tal’Qamar has a constant reminder of our god’s power.”

Since their departure from Tal’Qamar, the transformation of the spire had advanced notably, with about a third of it now a fusion of stone, flesh and bone. This change amplified the Divine Essence emanating from the building, generating an aura that imbued Zareth with a sense of safety and belonging as he approached its entrance. 

Naturally, this also enhanced the effects of his [Ritual of Sanctification], meaning Zareth could sense the occupants of the spire more accurately than ever. Which was likely the only reason why he wasn’t over surprised when he entered the spire’s main hall and an overly excited teenage boy came barreling toward him at a speed that was frankly unnecessary.

“Boss! You’re finally back!” Tamir exclaimed, crashing into him with a force that would have bowled him over if he hadn't braced himself. Zareth awkwardly allowed himself to be hugged until the boy seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing and stepped back, his expression embarrassed even as his eyes shone with excitement. “Please, for the love of Cerebon, tell me that you’re taking back control over these lunatics. I don’t think I can handle this anymore!”

Zareth blinked slowly at Tamir’s dramatics, before looking past him to the rest of the main hall.

The cult had been made aware that Zareth would be returning today and decided to throw a little welcoming party, which was why there were no long lines of Tal’Qamari citizens going in and out of the spire… but they had perhaps gone a little overboard in their celebration. 

Onara, wearing long garments that she had apparently woven with sinew, was quite clearly drunk and arguing with a young [Cultist] who had mimicked her face and was mocking her by pretending to lecture a friend about Cerebon. Gurza was leaning back against a chair while throwing loaves of bread at a flubber-like gelatinous ball of flesh that was sticking to the ceiling—which responded by absorbing them whole and wiggling in apparent excitement.

Zareth had no idea if the creature was a member of the cult who had been transformed or an… abnormal attempt at creating a flesh golem, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer.

The Pathfinders were also in attendance, but they also were joining the chaos as their human [Scout] Casper was currently cackling wildly while he webbed their lizardkin [Beast Tamer] Sefirah to the wall. He’d known that Casper had been showing more and more interest in joining the cult, but he hadn’t known that the Adventurer actually went through with it or that he’d chosen to have spinnerets added to his wrists.

And all of this was in the backdrop of the spire’s main hall, which had been turned almost entirely into flesh by Meldorath’s Heart and was filled with long tables full of food that the various members of the cult were eagerly partaking in. 

Zareth decided right then and there that he would avoid sampling any of the meats being served.

Watching the scene in front of him, Zareth was beginning to think that he’d delegated too much of his flesh golems time to spying on the various other factions in Tal’Qamar and not enough on watching his own cult…

He should have known that a bunch of young [Cultists] who’d recently gained the power to manipulate flesh to their heart’s desire would likely go a bit overboard.

“Of course, Tamir. I’ll be taking back the reins now that I’ve returned,” said Zareth, clapping a hand on Tamir’s shoulder. The sheer relief and gratitude in the kid’s eyes almost made him reconsider what he was about to say. “Though I’ll need you to continue handling this party for a while longer while I go speak to Cerebon. It wouldn’t do to keep a god waiting, after all.”

The way Tamir’s expression shifted from relief to utter devastation was almost comical. But just as Zareth was about to skedaddle his way to the stairway leading to the top of the tower and leave behind the clown show that was his cult, he was suddenly accosted by a drunk old woman and pulled into the fray.

Zareth looked to Vidhatri and Rizok for help, but the two traitors merely snickered at him and left to enjoy the festivities on their own.

“Apostle Zareth, you’ve gotta show this… this lil’ disrespectin’ girl how to respect her elders and use our god’s powers proper-like,” Onara slurred, gesturing wildly at the young cultist who’d stolen her face. “Look at her, parading around with my face, spoutin’ rubbish. It’s downright sacrilegious, it is!”

Zareth chuckled as Onara dragged him across the room. “I’ve a feeling that there’s a lot of improper use of Skills happening around here, but I don’t think our god considers it sacrilege.”

One of the reasons he was allowing himself to be delayed from his conversation with Cerebon was because he could feel the god’s faint amusement. If Cerebon had actually been insulted then Zareth would’ve already been shutting down the rampant nonsense going on.

Nevertheless, it was probably good for their cult to have a few rules about behavior and he vaguely recalled that Tal’Qamar had actual laws against shapeshifting into someone without their consent. 

Zareth spent a minute chastising the young [Cultist], which seemed to satisfy Onara and had her walking away to supposedly find a bottle of wine stolen by a flying cat. 

As he watched her stumble away, Zareth shook his head and murmured under his breath. “I’ll have to remember to keep her away from alcohol. It makes her even more confrontational than usual.”

“Hmph. Doubt that’ll be necessary.”

Zareth was startled as he heard someone respond to his comment despite him speaking softly in a loud room, and turned to see Gurza leaning back in her chair and looking at him with a sly smirk. She was far enough that Zareth probably wouldn’t have been able to trace the voice back without his enhanced senses, which was an advantage he should remember that some also possessed. 

Sensing that Cerebon didn’t seem to be in too much of a rush, Zareth decided to make his way over to Gurza’s table and took a seat. It’d be nice to get an update about… everything, given how much he seemed to have missed.

“Really? Why do you say that?” Zareth asked as he settled in the chair across from Gurza before turning an apprehensive gaze to the… thing jiggling on the roof. “And also, do I want to know what kind of abomination my cult managed to create while I was away? How is that thing even moving without bones?”

“Onara only drinks in celebration, so you likely won’t see her drunk again unless something good happens. Heard her grandson reached level 30 thanks to all the fighting and received a promotion,” Gurza said with a snort of amusement. Another piece of bread appeared in her hand out of nowhere and was thrown to the meat blob. “As for this thing, your brats scooped up a bunch of the meat growin’ out of your walls and disappeared into a room. Few hours later, this delightful little monster was wiggling its way across the walls. Supposedly, one of them is really interested in making golems.”

It was nice to hear that his cult’s most devout and most curmudgeonly member wasn’t an alcoholic. The intensity of the war meant that the Tal’Qamari military’s soldiers were all leveling quicker than normal, so it wasn’t all that much of a surprise that her grandson had advanced rapidly. He knew better than most exactly how much adversity was a boon when it came to the System, as long as one managed to survive.

However, the bread-loving blob that his [Cultists] had created was much more of a conundrum.

Yep… I definitely should’ve been keeping a closer eye on this place, Zareth mused as he studied the creature with a mix of tired exasperation and bewilderment. How the hell did they even make this thing? Its body doesn’t have any structural support, its movements are almost certainly prohibitively energy inefficient, and its behavior seems more complex than anything my cute little flying eyeball has shown. Unless one of the kids is secretly a reincarnated genius of biology then the only different factor is the material they used to make it, but the biomass shouldn’t be anything too out of the norm. Or is it? Maybe the Divine Essence from Meldorath’s Heart has resulted in the biomass pro—

“Ah! What the…” Zareth’s train of thoughts were abruptly interrupted as something bounced off the back of his head and a chorus of giggles erupted behind him. Turning, he saw a small, fleshy ball had been the projectile and had landed in front of a group of children, who quickly squealed and dispersed as soon as they saw him looking. 

That the ball opened a mouth and chose to join them in their squawking was something that Zareth very deliberately chose to ignore.

“I’ve gotta admit. When you asked me to join your cult in return for providin’ assistance to the slums, I didn’t imagine it’d turn into this,” Gurza said with a wry smile, gesturing broadly at the chaos filled hall. “Glad that I agreed. This is the most fun that I’ve had in half a century, and it’s real interestin’ to see the mayhem spread from here to the rest of the city. Pretty sure you’ve got the snakes twistin’ themselves into knots with all the regulations they’re goin’ to need.”

Zareth was glad that Gurza seemed to be enjoying herself, but he could distinctly feel a headache starting to develop. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Well, seem's obvious that the folks who run Tal’Qamar are likely to make some rules about what your cult can and can’t do to people’s bodies,” said Gurza, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Heard a rumor that one of the naga wants it made illegal for anyone to be made into one of them, but I also heard from a Desharin that the snakes want to forcibly make everyone into naga to ‘improve’ the populace, so who knows what’s true? Either way, I’m sure there’ll be some new laws written soon enough.”

That wasn’t something Zareth had considered, but it made sense. He’d have to ask General Nasrith or Lady Marilith about it the next time he spoke with one of them. While he clearly hadn’t been paying close enough attention to the cult through his flesh golem, Zareth had kept himself informed about the massive stream of gold pouring into his coffers. 

How could he not, when Tamir first informed him that profit from their aesthetic body sculpting services had utterly eclipsed every other source of income combined. There was no way that he would allow that to be nipped in the bud before it could make him filthy rich.

Zareth spent the next hour socializing with his cult and enduring its many ridiculous antics. Vidhatri seemed to enjoy walking around the room while analyzing the flesh manipulation of his [Cultists] and offering suggestions to make them better, which usually just meant more deadly. Onara somehow managed to convince Rizok and Gurza to join her in a drinking game, eventually resulting in the two of them wrestling on the floor. Meanwhile, Glurp the flesh blob, Glitterfang the Radiant Serpent, and Skywhisker the flying cat seemed to join forces to steal the disturbingly vocal flesh ball from the cult’s children.

Zareth ended up commiserating with the shivarath leader of the Pathfinders, Kajal. They spoke a bit about the Adventurers Guild’s efforts to excavate the Temple of Meldorath’s basements, which had been making a decent amount of progress lately. The Pathfinders had been dragging back slain flesh golems for him to study for a while and they were all fascinating, so Zareth was eager to see what else the Adventurers managed to find. 

Their conversation was quite pleasant, until Kajal was forced to leave abruptly to cut down Casper from the roof after he attempted to make a bed of webbing and got himself stuck.

In that moment, Kajal looked far more like an exhausted teacher overseeing a playground than a fearsome warrior. 

Zareth dearly hoped that wasn’t what he looked like from an outside perspective.

When things began to calm down and he finally saw an opportunity to pull himself away from the chaos, Zareth decisively took it and began ascending the spire. Cerebon had been quite patient, but he didn’t want to push his luck in keeping a god waiting any longer than necessary. The climb up the spire was quiet, as everyone was enjoying the revelry down below, and it wasn’t long before he arrived at the topmost terrace .

The artifact used to communicate with Cerebon was exactly where it was supposed to be, sitting on a pedestal at the terrace’s center. It radiated potent waves of Divine Essence from the glyphs inscribed onto its obsidian, polyhedral surface.

Zareth was apprehensive as he recalled exactly how disturbing it had felt to have his consciousness pulled from his body and transported through an eldritch void until it reached its destination. Not to mention the fact that Cerebon’s realm itself wasn’t the most pleasant of locales, but it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice.

Serving a god in exchange for power meant sometimes doing things that made you uncomfortable, so Zareth pushed aside his hesitation and decisively reached out to the artifact.

Unlike the first time he’d used it, there was no delay before Zareth felt the world melt away around him as his consciousness was pulled away from his body. Also unlike his first time, his mind and senses weren’t assaulted by incomprehensible shapes, colors, and sensations. Instead, it felt as if he was enveloped by a comforting shroud of darkness before he quite suddenly found himself on his hands and knees looking at a surface of undulating flesh.

Finally, something familiar. I was beginning to worry that something had gone wrong with the artifact or that I was being transported to a different god, Zareth mused as he slowly pushed himself to his feet before suddenly freezing when he saw his surroundings.

He’d assumed when he saw the ground that he was back in the stretching landscape of ancient ruins and writhing meat, and expected to see Cerebon sitting on his ruined throne like before.

He very much didn’t expect to find himself atop some kind of massive creature flying through the sky, its bat-like wings stretching nearly a hundred feet in each direction. The sheer buffets of wind being caused by its wings should have made it feel as if he was standing in a hurricane, yet Zareth felt a supernatural steadiness keeping him upright.

It had been around noon in Tal’Qamar when he had left, but the sky above was a tapestry of twilight hues as the sun set over a distant horizon. Just as Zareth was about to run to the edge of the creature so that he could get a better view of where he was and what exactly he was riding, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You seemed quite interested in flight, so I thought that a change in our meeting location would be well-received.

Zareth pivoted toward the source of the deep, rumbling voice and predictably found Cerebon watching from several feet away. The god had assumed his towering humanoid shape, complete with the horned lizard skull for a head that Zareth had first seen him in. This time, however, he’d abandoned his iridescent robes and opted to wear nothing at all to cover up his pulsating muscles.

Zareth was only glad that Cerebon’s form didn’t seem to be fully anatomically correct, given that certain areas were composed of swirling sinew and bone rather than any detailed features. It made staring at the deity less… uncomfortable.

Cerebon lounged atop a throne crafted from the same flesh as the colossal creature they were currently riding, his posture relaxed as he continued speaking. “Although, I’m not certain that even a sight like this one is as engaging as the event from which you just departed. It truly has been a pleasure to observe the unique mortals who you’ve brought into my embrace, far different from my other cults.”

Zareth wasn’t quite sure how to take that, so he decided to go with the safe option of simply bowing and expressing gratitude.

“I’m glad that you find the members of my cult pleasing, Lord Cerebon. They’re certainly a handful, but I’m quite proud of my cult,” Zareth said politely as he carefully approached the god and studied the beating wings of the creature. “And I appreciate your gift, but what exactly are we standing on?”

“Your pride is warranted, as you’ve done more to further my interests than most mortals in recent decades,” said Cerebon with slight derision as he waved his hand dismissively. “As for this creature, it is called a Skythane. I imagine you would learn much from studying its biology, but your Skills will not function in this place. The System’s attempts to spread its influence into the Divine Realms has always been met with middling success.”

Zareth had already attempted to use [Permanent Flesh Manipulation] on the creature and hadn’t been all that surprised when it failed, but it was fairly interesting to learn that the System didn’t work at all in Cerebon’s realm. 

He also had a distinct feeling that the god had been very intentional when he shared that information and wanted to stoak Zareth’s curiosity. After all, every part of his life had been gradually progressing in the direction of learning about the ancient past, from the tome of Meldorath to his Class Evolution.

Honestly, a part of Zareth was frustrated by the god’s annoyingly cryptic behavior and refusal to speak with him to clearly explain what he wanted. Chances were good that the god would just send him another dangerous task and maybe grant him another reward similar to [Eye of Cerebon].

It was probably unwise for Zareth to harbor such feelings toward an entity capable of reading his mind and who he was completely at the mercy of, but it wasn’t as if he could control his thoughts. Fortunately, Cerebon merely reacted with a snort of amusement, curving his bony jaw into a sly smirk.

“I do indeed have another difficult task for you, my mortal. One which I believe is quite compatible with your mortal politics, but there is much that you misunderstand,” said Cerebon, seemingly unconcerned with his disrespectful thoughts. “It was for your own benefit that I behave cryptically, as you refer to it, lest certain entities become particularly interested in you. I promise, such an outcome would have resulted in you suffering a fate far worse than death.”

While Zareth wasn’t entirely convinced, Cerebon knew far more than he did about this world and didn’t really have much incentive to lie to him when the god already had so much control over him. 

However, there was one part of what the god had said which definitely caught Zareth’s attention and caused him to wonder. Cerebon had used the word was and seemed to imply that something had changed.

“Correct,” said Cerebon, his smirk growing into a satisfied grin. “In your drive to pursue ancient knowledge to serve me while furthering your own ambitions, you faithfully chose to become an [Atavistic Apostle]. I’d many plans if you chose differently, but your Class is sufficiently compatible with a Skill that I suspect you will greatly appreciate. One quite useful for protecting secret knowledge. Approach, my clever little mortal, so that I may convince the System that you possess the necessary requirements to acquire it.”

Zareth hesitated, recalling that he’d been left gasping for air on his knees the last time Cerebon had artificially manipulated the System and been given a scary warning message, but he eventually forced himself to walk forward. Cerebon didn’t waste any time and immediately placed a hand on Zareth’s shoulder as soon as he was in arm’s reach before inundating him with Divine Essence. 

However, much to Zareth’s surprise, the experience wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as it had been the first time around.

“You have my Greater Boon to thank for that, my mortal,” said Cerebon, deciding to answer his unvoiced question. “As you recently learned from the naga Archmage, the System interfaces with those under its influence primarily through the soul. The System has sufficiently effective countermeasures that prevent even the greatest mortal soul mages of this era from excessive tampering. But I was greater than these modern mages even before my apotheosis, and my Boon makes your soul especially receptive to my influence.”

Zareth didn’t have time to think about how immensely uncomfortable that sentence made him feel or the god’s almost possessive undertone before a System message suddenly rang out in his mind.

[Obscure Cognition] has been acquired!

Warning! Repeated external manipulation of a mortal so—

“Hmph. Sensitive little thing. It’s been watching you closer ever since I first alerted it,” Cerebon said with an annoyed scoff before focusing his attention back on Zareth. “I had to expend your Skill Point to fool the System into believing that you had acquired the Skill legitimately, but it was doubtlessly worth it. You wouldn’t have ever been offered this Skill unless you’d first acquired the deception related Skill Evolutions available to [Cultist], which would have been too costly an investment for little gain. This Skill, however, will serve you well.”

Having already analyzed the description for [Obscure Cognition], Zareth emphatically agreed. 

Obscure Cognition - Conceals the user’s thoughts from those attempting to read them by any means, making them appear mundane and uninteresting to observers. Increases mental resistance to manipulation and control. Increases the user’s ability to detect mental intrusions. +2 Spirit. +3 Willpower.

This Skill was worth much more than the lost Skill Point to acquire it, and would have definitely been Zareth’s first choice if it had been made available to him. The enchanted ring given to him by the Tessik had managed to stand up against Agnazir, but he was under no illusions that would have been the case if the Archmage had made a stronger effort.

He had far too many secrets for his mind to be left an open book to anyone with the means to peek inside, so [Obscure Cognition] was more than welcome. Cerebon might enjoy sending him out on potentially lethal tasks that made his life far more difficult than it needed to be, but the god certainly knew how to hand out proper rewards.

Zareth stared awkwardly at Cerebon in anticipatory silence for several moments until the god eventually rose a single brow ridge in response. “If you’re waiting for me to respond to your thoughts as I have been for the entirety of this conversation, I recommend that you reanalyze the Skill that you’ve just acquired.”

Zareth winced in embarrassment before the feeling was overshadowed by exhilaration. He’d grown used to Cerebon reading his mind and accepted it as simply the cost of business, but he definitely hadn’t enjoyed having his mental privacy constantly violated.

“Does [Obscure Cognition] truly work on even gods? That’s… amazing,” Zareth couldn’t help but blurt out, too surprised to control himself.

“As a shield, it is close to worthless against an entity like me, but the concealment effect that makes your thoughts appear mundane is enough to fool any being that has no reason to scrutinize you more closely,” Cerebon explained with surprising patience, as if he was teaching a particularly curious student. “Few will suspect you of possessing a Skill like [Obscure Cognition] as you are not a [Spy] or a similar such Class. It should also grant you a degree of protection against entities who would be alerted to you learning certain pieces of information, granting me a greater margin of information that I may safely share.”

Zareth’s eyes widened in surprise at Cerebon’s words, his mind racing to process what they implied as he recalled a detail from their first meeting. “I remember you said something similar about the origin of the System, Lord Cerebon. That it was a dangerous secret which would mark me for death. Is this mysterious entity another god? I can’t imagine that you’d need to maneuver so cautiously otherwise.”

If Cerebon was feeling indulgent and Zareth was actually free to ask all the questions he’d never been able to find answers for, then he intended to take full advantage of this opportunity.

“Oh, child. If gods had nothing to fear in this world, then it would look far different than it does now,” said Cerebon, chuckling darkly as his flesh suddenly rippled with an unseen force. “In fact, you’re already familiar with the being that primarily concerns me. The ironically named Unfettered One, whose mortal servants have dedicated themselves to freeing it from a prison which has confined it since the end of the System War.”

Zareth was unsurprised to hear that the Cult of the Unfettered One was directly related to whatever Cerebon’s goals were, as there had been plenty of signs pointing in that direction. But there was one question that immediately sprang to mind. “If the Unfettered One isn’t a god, then what exactly is it?”

For the first time since Zareth had met the god, something akin to discomfort crossed Cerebon’s features. “I have speculation, but I do not know for certain. I do know that it was the Aeonarch, the dominant pantheon of the faction which triumphed in the System War, who personally sealed it away at the end of the conflict, and that its single-minded goal is the destruction of the System.”

That… would be utterly catastrophic, Zareth realized as he imagined what would happen if the System were to suddenly disappear. 

He’d lived an entirely separate life in a world devoid of supernatural elements, so he knew that it wouldn’t be impossible for people to adjust. However, the societal upheaval of the System disappearing in a world so thoroughly entwined with its influence would be nothing short of apocalyptic.

[Farmers] who had no idea how to properly grow crops without their Skills, [Healers] incapable of treating the simplest illnesses without magic, all manner of craftsmen who could no longer produce goods of decent quality. The Etherveil would still exist, but the number of people capable of actually using it would be miniscule and the world would have to entirely relearn a new means of using magic.

“But… why?” Zareth asked, completely dumbfounded. He hadn’t seen any evidence that the System was malevolent or harmful to the world. The idea of destroying it when the consequences would be so horrible and seemingly benefit nobody was… just idiotic.

It was the kind of inane plan that Zareth would expect to read from a comic book supervillan, not something that would actually be pursued by any rational person. Yet the Cult of the Unfettered One had seemingly convinced a large group of people to join its cause despite this.

It didn’t make any sense.

“I will answer your question. But first, there is something that I wish you to see,” Cerebon said after a moment of thoughtful silence as he stood from his throne. “Join me at the edge of the Skythane, and look at the scene down below. I think it may place some things into perspective.”

Feeling curious, Zareth headed the god’s orders and followed him to the edge of the Skythane. He doubted that anything as mundane as gravity would endanger him while he was in Cerebon’s realm, but he still felt a need to be cautious.

When he finally arrived at the edge, Zareth decided to first study the so-called ‘Skythane’ and saw that it had the appearance of a bizarre amalgamation of creatures. It had the long, serpentine body of an oriental dragon, but its skin was rough and leathery like that of an elephant rather than covered in scales as he would expect. The Skythane’s head was most similar to that of a lion, but with sharper, more angular features and cat-like eyes that possessed a degree of intelligence that he would never expect from an animal.

“A magnificent being, isn’t it?” said Cerebon, causing Zareth to flinch in surprise as he’d become engrossed in studying the Skythane. “It took me until the third century of my life to capture one for study, and that endeavor nearly cost me my life. However, this is not what I wished for you to see. Look down below.”

Zareth cautiously leaned forward and peered over the edge of the Skythane, causing his breath to be promptly stolen from him by the scene below. “Is that… Valandor?”

“Indeed. Though, the continent is quite a bit different than the one which exists in your time. The landscape you see now is how Valandor appeared during the System War.”

If Zareth hadn’t believed that the System War was as cataclysmic as everything he had read described, then the scene in front of him would’ve been enough to convince him.

Purchasing a map of Valandor was one of the first things that Zareth had done when he had enough gold to afford luxuries, which meant he had a decent idea of its size and proportions. 

Yet the Valandor below was unrecognizable, its terrain marred by gargantuan scars and vast craters that looked like wounds on the earth itself. Rivers of lava cut across the landscape while several mountain ranges were split asunder and glowed with an eerie light. There was even a few extra hundred miles of land in the south eastern part of Valandor which Zareth was certain no longer existed in his time.

The scale of destruction was beyond anything that he could have ever imagined, outstripping what he’d estimated even the highest leveled individuals could accomplish. Moreover, the fact that much of the damage had been fixed in his time was even more astonishing.

“W-What could have done this?” Zareth found himself asking, voice barely more than a whisper.

“A group of Mage-Lords who were once on the cusp of surpassing the gods in strength,” said Cerebon, his gaze distant as he stared at the devastation below. “Alternatively, you might fault the gods, who created a System to regulate and direct the power of mortals in response. Such actions were bound to ignite a war, the effects of which still echo to this day. This history underpins much of your mortal politics, my ambitions, and why it is necessary that you aid me in constructing a new pantheon in Tal’Qamar capable of confronting the Conclave.”

As he gazed at the scene of a shattered continent, Zareth experienced many emotions and thoughts in quick succession. However, the one that surprised him the most in its intensity was an overwhelming desire to ensure that his cult never had to live through a conflict capable of creating such devastation.

That being the case, there was only one way for him to respond.

“Please tell me more, Lord Cerebon.”

=====

Author's Note: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but wasn't a good way to avoid it. Hope you enjoyed.