[Aranthra's lair, Veiled Bazaar, Lunia]
The air in Aranthra's private chamber, hidden behind a false wall in the deepest part of the Veiled Bazaar, was thick with the smell of incense, blood, and something ancient and metallic.
The room was circular, the floor inscribed with a complex silver and blood-red diagram that seemed to pulse with a faint, malevolent light. At its center sat a black iron brazier. Red fire crystals bloomed in an unnatural red and green colour in each one of the hex's extremity. Most would find the place very unsettling, but Aranthra, despite her strong character, possessed a strong reputation. Many had gone to her for similar purposes.
"Forty crystals," Aranthra stated, her voice losing its seductive lilt and becoming all business.
She held out a pale, graceful hand. "For this, I will summon a minor aspect of the Flesh-Shaper. It will scour your body, burn away the mortal dross, and forge your flesh into something harder, stronger. Their anguish is the anvil upon which your body is hammered."
Greem placed the pouch in her hand without a word. The clink of the crystals was swallowed by the oppressive silence of the room. He stepped into the center of the diagram, feeling a static charge raise the hairs on his arms. It almost burnt him, but he was used to worse.
Aranthra began to chant, her voice a low, guttural counterpoint to her elegant appearance.
"I, Aranthra von Guillem, summon Portrayor, Flesh-Shaper of the demon plane. Please accept the offerings I give you...", her words speaking not in the common tongue, but in draconic language, which all acolytes knew bits of, Greem included.
The silver lines of the diagram flared, and the green coals in the brazier roared to life, casting dancing, monstrous shadows on the walls.
A pressure built in the room. Greem and Aranthra felt watched. The presence came from a small, obsidian box, a magical artefact of some sort, one that allowed her to become an intermediate rank acolyte and one of the association's elders.
[Demon Gate Chest - Medium Rank 0 Magical Artefact]
She released the captured souls, from vials that stored them preciously. Twenty in total, shimmering, shrieking wisps of light that were immediately drawn into the ritual circle. Their screams, in an inaudible voice, reverberated in the room.
The demon's presence manifested as a wave of blistering heat and the smell of forge-fire and burning hair. A formless, oppressive will pressed down on Greem, and he felt an alien energy begin to seep into his pores, a scalding current meant to melt and reshape him.
It was then that the [Soul Ring] on his finger turned ice-cold.
A notification, stark and blue, blazed across his vision, unrelated to the demon's work.
[Foreign soul energy detected...]
[Do you want to absorb the souls?]
Greem smirked, and mentally nodded.
[Absorbing...]
The twenty screaming soul-wisps, the very fuel of the ritual, were suddenly wrenched from the diagram. They streaked across the room not towards the demonic presence, but into the black band on Greem's finger. The ring glowed with a faint, hungry light for a single second, and then it was over. The souls were gone.
It happened all too fast, breaking Aranthra's chant.
The ritual circle flickered and died. The green fire in the brazier snuffed out instantly. The oppressive presence of the Flesh-Shaper vanished, replaced by a deafening silence, followed by a distant, furious roar that seemed to come from another dimension entirely. The contract had been broken; the payment had been stolen before the service was rendered.
Aranthra stared, her beautiful face a mask of utter shock and confusion.
"What... what did you do?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "The souls... they're gone. The demon is... enraged"
Greem looked down at his hand, his heart a cold, steady drum in his chest. He could feel the ring humming, sated. Another notification appeared.
[You have absorbed the soul of [Lv. 3 Acolyte]...You have gained 12 EXP]
[You have absorbed the soul of [Lv. 5 Acolyte]...You have gained 30 EXP]
[You have absorbed the soul of [Lv. 4 Acolyte]...You have gained 20 EXP]
...
[Total EXP gained: 432]
[Greem Southport - Lv. 7 Beginner Rank Acolyte (1080 → 1512 / 800 EXP)]
He had just gained more than half a level's worth of experience by simply standing there. The power was intoxicating, and terrifying.
'So the ring's power comes from absorbing souls, huh...', Greem anaylsed, as if the ritual had exposed part of the ring's origins, 'A magical artefact from the demon plane, perhaps?'
"The ritual failed", Greem said, his voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil inside, "What do you mean the ritual failed?"
Aranthra looked from his face to the dead circle, her professional pride clearly warring with her bewilderment. "The cost...the souls are lost...There is always a chance of failure in demonic rituals. However, with the materials we used, including pristine quality fire crystals, it should not have failed"
"The cost was my forty crystals," Greem countered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You provided the catalyst. The catalyst failed. Try. Again."
Aranthra squinted: "It's not my fault the ritual failed..."
Greem revealed his magical power as a Lv. 7 acolyte about to break through...Aranthra felt the pressure. Even if she was an intermediate acolyte, she could feel that Greem was not to be messed with. His perfect record as Elizabeth's hunting dog was not unfounded. Rather than offending the Association's rising star, Aranthra gulped, and angrily took out more vials and repaired the destroyed demonic hex.
Muttering incantations of warding and apology to the cheated demon. The ritual began anew. The circle flared, the green fire roared, and the Flesh-Shaper's attention returned, this time tinged with a palpable, simmering fury.
As the scalding energy once more flooded into him, the prompt appeared again.
[Foreign soul energy detected...]
[Do you want to absorb the souls?]
This time, Greem focused his will. No. He mentally pushed back against the ring's instinct, visualizing a wall between its hunger and the ritual's fuel. He felt a strain, a resistance, like holding a powerful dog on a leash. For a moment, it wavered, the pull of the souls weakening.
He held firm.
The ritual continued. The demonic energy, now uninterrupted, coursed through him. It was agony. It felt as though his muscles were being torn apart and rewoven, his bones heated in a furnace and hammered. He gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face, his body trembling violently within the circle. He focused on the [Breath of the Dusk Hound], using its rhythm to anchor himself against the pain.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. The presence vanished. The circle dimmed. Greem collapsed to one knee, panting, his body steaming in the cool air. He felt... different. Denser. Harder.
Aranthra watched him, a look of profound relief and lingering unease on her face. "It... it worked. This time."
Greem pulled up his status.
[Demonically-Forged Body - Minor]
[All physical attributes slightly enhanced]
[Strength +1]
[Vitality +1]
[Note: Lingering impurities from the ritual have been neutralized and absorbed by the Shadow Wyvern Bloodline. Internal energy is tainted with demonic energy...]
He stood, rolling his shoulders. The pain was already receding, replaced by a thrumming, resilient power. The Wyvern bloodline had not only granted the stats but had scrubbed the process clean, leaving no hidden curses or corruptions.
"Satisfactory," Greem said, his voice a low rumble.
He nodded to the still-shaken Aranthra and turned to leave, the massive EXP gain from the absorbed souls a secret smile in his heart. He had paid for a body refinement, but he had gained so much more. The [Soul Ring] was a cheat far beyond anything he had imagined. He just had to learn how to control its hunger.
Seeing him leave, Aranthra muttered: "You realise that I barely made any profit on you, right?"
Greem scoffed: "As if. Who do you think provided the fire crystals to Elizabeth?"
Again, Aranthra was shocked. Unable to retort, she realised that Greem knew of the value of the fire crystals. Though a very expensive product, with the presence of the Pyrke mine nearby, it was not nearly as valuable as she made it out to be.
"You are truly unlike the other body refinement acolytes in the association. Having more elders in the association is a good thing, especially in those tumultuous times", she spoke
Greem nodded: "Make sure to prepare a new set of ingredients for a similar ritual. I have a teammate, Vanessa Tyrien, who could benefit from such an...enehancement. I assume you don't have that many souls hanging, though"
Aranthra nodded: "Come back in one month, and the ritual will be ready for her"
Greem smiled: "Pleasure doing business with you"