Cultist of Cerebon

 

Tamir took in a deep breath as Gurza handed him a serving of her mouthwatering Muttonbread, taking a moment to enjoy the aroma wafting from it. He’d been given the chance to experience foods that he was once unable to afford before joining the cult of Cerebon, but there was just something about Gurza’s Bakery that always drew him back.

It smelt like home… or at least like what he imagined home would smell like had he ever had one.

“Here you go, boy,” said Gurza gruffly, her voice faintly weary as she leaned over the counter. “Be glad that I’m willin’ to give this cult of ours special privileges, or you’d be eatin’ Brick Bread like everyone else today.”

Tamir forced his attention away from the delicious bread to look behind the old ogre and through the door leading to the oven room in the back. He could see several young members of the cult running between rows of large ovens, each of them looking like clay pots with dough sticking to the inside of their walls like magic.

Tamir took a moment to glare at a girl who was trying to sneak a nibble from one of the freshly baked loaves, causing her to look at him guiltily and get back to work.

Pretty much all of them were kids from the slums aiming to get on Gurza’s good side so they could become [Apprentice Bakers]. Tamir wished them well, but knew that the old ogre wasn’t the type to be easily impressed.

Still, that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying.

“I’m sure anything made by you must taste amazing,” said Tamir, turning to Gurza and offering her the same youthful smile that he had once used to earn a few coins while living on the streets. “This’ll make this year’s First Rain Festival something special.”

Apparently, the boss had convinced the military to buy Gurza a bunch of new ovens in exchange for her making military rations for them in the form of her ‘Brick Bread’.

They were small, square loaves that were baked until they dried out so that they could last for months without going bad, and came in a bunch of different flavors. They could also keep people fed for a long time and be made in large numbers thanks to Gurza’s Skills, [Enhanced Flavor], [Minimum Waste], and [Rapid Baking].

Fortunately, this also meant that Gurza would be able to make a bunch of free food to hand out to people during the yearly First Rain Festival. Now that the temple of Rayya had been run out of Tal’Qamar, the boss said that it was up to them to handle the annual celebrations. The way he explained it, it was the ‘perfect opportunity to solidify their place in the community and earn the favor of the people.’

This was why Tamir was currently in Gurza’s Bakery, other than for her delicious Muttonbread, of course. It was his job to organize and assist the cult’s effort to distribute the several boxes of Brick Bread near the bakery’s entrance. It was also the perfect chance for them to convince people to join the cult, which was something Tamir was happy to help with.

The Cult of Cerebon had changed Tamir’s life for the better, and he wanted others to have the same chance. Even if the boss could be a bit scary sometimes…

Gurza snorted dismissively, but he could see the small hint of amusement in her eyes and counted that as a win. “I know you’re just tryin’ to flatter me, brat, but you aren’t wrong. The folks around here need somethin’ nice to associate the cult with, and to lift their spirits. I worked hard to make this batch better than normal. For them, it’ll be like a feast.”

Tamir didn’t doubt it. He didn't know much about military rations, but he’d tasted Gurza’s Brick Bread and they weren’t nearly as bad as he’d expected. Sure, they were dry and a bit hard compared to what she usually made, but they were still delicious.

“It’s a damn shame that Zareth isn’t here. The boy should be joinin’ in on the festival, not sittin’ in his tower like a reclusive [Archmage],” Gurza continued, huffing with disapproval. “It ain’t right for him to stay in that musty dungeon of his all day. Especially on a nice day like this.”

Tamir glanced to the bakery’s exit, enjoying the rare sight of water hitting the streets of the city. He’d once heard a [Merchant] from Eldamir complain about the rain, but for the residents of Tal’Qamar, there was no time of year better to celebrate than the brief rainy seasons when they had surplus water.

Several members of the cult were carrying boxes of Brick Bread in and out of the bakery, taking occasional breaks to enjoy the rain. Tamir could see an old man standing out and looking up at the sky, letting the rain soak his beard as he wore a peaceful smile on his face.

Tamir was glad to see it. He’d been worried that the First Rain Festival would be ruined this year, what with the war going on and worship of Rayya no longer being encouraged in Tal’Qamar. It was good that the boss had decided their cult should step in to fill the void.

However, Gurza was right that it would be better if the boss was here to participate.

“He would, but he’s been doing nothing but experimenting ever since the military called him in for that big meeting of theirs,” Tamir grumbled unhappily, turning his attention back to Gurza and deciding to ask a question that he’d been wondering about for a while. “You’d think he was a [Scholar] rather than a [Cultist] with how much time he spends around books. Where’d he even learn how to do stuff like that? Doesn’t make sense that someone like him knows so much."

Lots of folks who grew up in the slums didn’t even know how to read, let alone know all the fancy words the boss sometimes used.

Tamir knew that while he wasn’t the smartest person around, he also wasn’t the dumbest one either. He had pretty good instincts when it came to people, and those instincts told him that there was something really weird about the boss.

Zareth had been nothing but good to him, but he still couldn’t help but wonder.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” said Gurza, her eyes going distant as if lost in memory. “The boy’s been strange since the moment I met him, but his heart’s in the right place. I wouldn’t’ve decided to work with him otherwise. Back when he was just another brat running through these streets, I once saw him help that red-haired boy who was always stuck to his side nurse a bird back to health. Even fed the thing some of his own scraps. I knew then that he was one of the good ones.”

Tamir nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. If Gurza said that the boss had always been this way, then it was probably best for him to mind his own business. There was no reason to mess with a good thing while it lasted

“There’s some good news though,” said Tamir, deciding to change the subject. “He said that it's time for me to start learning from the stuff he’s been working on, so I’ll be going to see him as soon as the festival’s over.”

Tamir hadn’t been able to understand the whole ‘biology’ thing that the boss was trying to teach him at first, but it’d been getting easier nowadays. Probably since the boss had spent a small fortune to hire someone with a Trainer Class to teach Tamir and the other new [Cultists], a high level [Instructor of Scholars] who usually only worked for the rich snakefolk.

The boss sometimes taught them as well, sharing information that wasn’t even in the anatomy or biology books, but it was Instructor Hallenford’s Skills that helped the most.Tamir had been able to focus better than ever and memorized things after only a few tries, increasing his speed of learning dramatically. Sure, he ended up with a splitting headache every time he finished one of his lessons, but Tamir thought that it was definitely worth it.

He knew more than most that the cult of Cerebon wouldn’t be anything without the boss, and wanted to do what he could to help with more than just errands. Tamir wasn’t the only one; everyone with sense understood just how much the boss had done for them and was doing their best to pay it forward, which was good.

After all… anyone who tried to take advantage of the boss’ good nature would learn the hard way how folks from the slums dealt with people who lacked loyalty.

“Hmph. Glad to hear it. Though it’d be better if you convinced him to join the celebrations,” Gurza grumbled before gesturing toward the exit. “Now, you go on and get out of here before the Waterhole gets too crowded. Gods know how many folks started flocking there as soon as the rain started fallin’.”

Tamir nodded and rushed to finish his snack before turning to call out to the other members of the cult. “Alright everyone, grab a box and start heading over to the Waterhole! Ms. Suncrest, please make sure everyone who isn’t familiar with the slums has a partner who is. We don’t want anyone getting lost and ending up in gang territory. That means you, Yasmeen!”

Ms. Suncrest, a middle-aged female lizardkin who’d lived in the slums for most of her life nodded in response and started pairing people up. There were a lot of people who were hesitant to listen to Tamir due to his age, so it was good to have her by his side to help out.

Once everyone started exiting the bakery, Tamir made his way over to the door, grabbed one of the boxes, and balanced it skillfully on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Gurza. I’ll be sure to tell Zareth that you’ve been worried sick about him,” Tamir called out with a cheeky smile. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

Tamir ducked out of the bakery with a chuckle as he heard Gurza grumble something about putting words in her mouth. Once he was out onto the cobblestone street, he took a moment to enjoy the feeling of water falling on his skin and the sound of rain hitting the ground. The normally scorching sun was hidden behind dark, thick clouds, giving the city a rare, muted look that Tamir found calming.

There was hardly anyone walking through the streets since most of them were probably at the Waterhole. The only exception were a couple of kids who were playing in a puddle until they noticed Tamir and ran up to him with expectant expressions, causing him to laugh softly as he recognized them.

Tamir sent the other members of the cult ahead to the festival before leaning down to ruffle the hair of the two siblings. “Anni, Lut. What’re you two doing here? Would’ve expected you two to be at the festival. How’d you know that you’d find me here?”

“Saw you comin’ in from the alley,” said Lut, the older of the two said as he eyed the box of bread on his shoulder with clear hunger. “Decided we wanted to get first dibs before everyone swarms ya!”

Anni, the younger sister, nodded vigorously. “Yeah! We saw what happened last time. The bigger kids took almost everything!”

“Always knew you two were clever,” Tamir said approvingly as he opened the box and reached for some of the better looking Brick Bread, handing each of them one. “Y’know, you wouldn’t have to wait out in the rain if your family decided to join our cult. You could just stop by the temple to pick up your share.”

“Momma said that all those religions are just like gangs,” Anni said after taking a big bite of her bread, as if reciting some great wisdom. “They just want something from you and throw you out when they don’t need you no more.”

“But Papa said you guys are nice,” Lut was quick to add as he chewed through his own share of food, clever enough to know that his sister’s words might be offensive. “He said your cult takes care of people and even took on the Silk Serpents and the Conclave! Is that true?”

“It is. The cult of Cerebon is really strong,” Tamir said proudly, not bothered that Anni and Lut’s parents were suspicious about them. Lots of folks were cautious about joining new groups swearing to fix all their problems, especially those smart enough to survive in the slums. “Tell your parents that they should stop by our temple when they get the chance. Doesn’t mean they need to join, but they can come see how we do things for themselves. If it’s not for them, then that’s fine too.”

Anni and Lut exchanged glances before thanking him and running off with their meals. Tamir hoped they would be able to convince their parents to visit the temple. More and more people were showing interest in their cult after hearing about the ritual, so there was a good chance that they would.

Tamir took in his surroundings as he walked toward the Waterhole. The slums hadn’t changed all that much since he used to live here, with most of the buildings still in a state of disrepair and streets still being filled with potholes, but there were some differences.

People recognized that he was a member of the cult through his growing number of earrings and offered smiles as he passed by. There were also fewer kids who looked like they were starving, clearly benefiting from Gurza being able to fund more of her charity after joining the cult. Even the gangs seemed to be less active, most of them keeping their heads down to avoid the [Guards] swarming all over the city.

The boss said that the military didn’t like the Silk Serpents working with traitors and were cracking down hard on the gangs in response. Tamir doubted that they would accomplish anything, but he would enjoy it while it lasted. Especially since he’d lost his [Street Urchin] Class and the several Skills that he once used to pass through the city without drawing attention.

Overall, the slums were in the best condition he’d ever seen thanks to the actions of the cult. Gurza was right about Zareth; he was a good guy, despite how weird he was.

Tamir was in a good mood as he continued handing out bread to the occasional passerby on the way to the Waterhole, being sure to talk to them about the cult while doing so. Eventually, he took a turn through a small alley that brought him to his destination and was unsurprised to find it completely swarming with people.

The Waterhole was a large cistern built on the corner of two alleys in the center of the slums. It was one of the few sources of freshwater in the slums and, during the rainy season, it would be filled by water flowing in from a series of slanted rooftops and drainage ducts. Locals would take advantage of the influx of rainwater to collect and store as much of it as they could, which was why it was currently packed with people.

Tamir had sometimes wondered why people just couldn’t go to the oasis and take as much water as they wanted, but Zareth taught him that most of the water there was reserved for farming. He’d then shown Tamir the aqueducts and networks of canals that brought water to the farms on the outskirts of the city.

Aside from its practical uses, the Waterhole was also the traditional gathering place for the First Rain Festival.

Children were running around with cloth streamers, many of which had been made by Onara, while the adults were gathered around makeshift food stalls and making conversation. There was a small group of lizardkin [Musicians] playing instruments to provide some entertainment, filling the air with melodies from flutes, the booming sound of the tombak drums, and the twang of ouds. It did a lot to create a festive atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the usual somber mood of the slums.

Several people were dancing freely in the rain showers, their spirits high as their clothes were soaked with water. The very youngest of children were being kept under cover and attended to by their parents, as none of them had high enough Vitality to keep them from getting sick. There were even people who were quite clearly not native to the slums who had come to enjoy the festivities.

Tamir couldn’t help but chuckle as he spotted a tall, cloaked shivarath woman looking around with a bewildered expression.

Members of the cult of Cerebon were scattered through the crowd, either passing out food or joining in on the celebrations. Tamir was glad to see that they were being accepted in place of the temple of Rayya. Most of the Conclave hadn’t been particularly popular in the slums, but they made an exception for the Goddess of Oases during the festival.

It only took a few moments until someone noticed Tamir and called out, causing him to quickly be surrounded by eager people vying for free food.

Tamir did his best to prioritize those who looked like they needed it the most, but the sheer number of people crowding him made it difficult. He continued to preach the virtues of the cult and was pretty confident that he’d convinced a few people to visit the temple. When he inevitably ran out of Brick Bread, Tamir even began offering free healing with his recently acquired [Flesh Manipulation] to anyone who needed it.

It wasn’t permanent like the boss’ evolved version of the Skill, but it would still last long enough to deal with most minor injuries.

It was only when he was suffering from Skill Exhaustion that Tamir took some time to enjoy the festival for himself. He spent the next hour eating, listening to the music, and dancing until he finally grew tired and decided to take cover under one of the larger canopies to watch the festival.

Everyone was clearly having a good time, and their cult seemed to be well-accepted among the people. There were even a few parents bringing children to their [Cultists] so that their kids could get cute temporary body modifications, such as whiskers, tiny horns, or colorful patterns on their scales. Some of the older adults joined in by piercing their ears and putting on earrings Blessed by Zareth to boost health and something the boss called ‘immune response.’

The other new religions might have their own spaces in Tal’Qamar, but after today, Tamir was certain that the slums had been secured by the cult of Cerebon.

It was all really nice to see… but Tamir couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

“Our leader should be here.”

Tamir was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice. He turned to see that Onara had joined his side while he was distracted.

“Today is a great victory. He should be here to preach the way of Cerebon to these people and enjoy the fruits of his labor,” Onara said with conviction, her aged eyes scanning the crowd before landing on Tamir. “It would be a wasted opportunity otherwise.”

Tamir couldn’t help but agree and decided right then and there that he would do something about it. He wasn’t expected to arrive at the spire until after the festival, but there was no harm in going early and trying to convince the boss to leave his dungeon.

Besides, he was really looking forward to seeing what the boss had been working on.

After taking a moment to thank Onara, he turned determinedly towards the spire to talk to the boss and insist that he come to the festival.

The journey back was relatively uneventful. Most of the cult was away from the spire, but there were a few who had decided to stay back. That being the case, Tamir spent a few minutes chatting with people working on the first floor and making sure there wasn’t anything important that he needed to handle before walking towards the dungeon.

The magical wards that prevented people from entering the underground portions of the spire let him through without any issue. Tamir almost froze once he spotted the boss’ scary lizardkin bodyguard, but forced himself to continue forward.

Rizok regarded him with predatory eyes that made Tamir feel as if he were a mouse facing a hungry snake. The lizardkin might play nice while he was talking to the boss, but with everyone else Rizok only ever said a few words and always gave off the impression that he was ready to kill them at any moment.

Thankfully, Rizok didn’t bother speaking to him and Tamir quickened his steps as he made his way into the dungeon, which had been repurposed as a laboratory. Tamir hadn’t actually been inside ever since the boss had forbidden everyone from entering and activated the magical defenses that protected it, so he found himself struck dumb the moment he entered.

Where before the dungeon had been mostly empty, there were now several massive workbenches. Most of them were covered with laid opened books, glass containers filled with various colored liquids, and a bunch of odd contraptions that Tamir couldn’t even begin to identify.

However, it was the cages filled with mutated animals and the several organs floating in jars of translucent fluid that drew his gaze and made his stomach churn.

There was even a thick scent of blood in the air that made it difficult for Tamir to tell if he’d walked into the workspace of an [Alchemist] or a shop belonging to a [Butcher]. The absolute worst feature of the room was the row of what looked like vaguely humanoid clumps of meat floating in the glass containers at the back of the room, each of them mutated in strange ways.

Even the room itself was starting to scare Tamir! [Flesh Perception] was one of the first Skills that the boss had told him to acquire, and now it was trying to tell him that there were veins running through the walls!

Gurza was wrong. The boss is obviously crazy, Tamir thought frantically as he looked toward the exit. I wonder if I can sneak away before he notices and convince Rizok that I forgot something upstairs.

He’d heard Adventurers tell all sorts of stories about crazy [Archmages] or evil [Necromancers] kidnapping people and bringing them to places like this and wanted nothing to do with it!

Just as he was seriously considering his plan of escape, Tamir was pulled from his terrified thoughts by the excited voice of the man who he was now certain was some sort of crazy serial killer.

“Tamir, come over here and take a look at this,” said Zareth, not even looking up from the strange instrument he’d been peering into. “I had no idea that the Alchemist’s Guild would be able to supply me with an actual working microscope. It’s not as good as I’d hoped, but it’ll make many experiments so much easier for me.”

Tamir took in a deep breath to calm himself as he walked over to his boss. He had no idea what kind of evil device this ‘microscope’ was, but his best hope was to pretend that everything was alright and run away in the middle of the night.

“H-High Cultist Zareth, it’s good to see you,” Tamir said nervously, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice as he approached the table and decided to use a formal title so that he wouldn’t end up on one of those tables. “What exactly are you working on? Is there any way I can be of service?”

Zareth looked up and blinked at Tamir was a confused expression. “Why are you calling me that? I told you there wasn’t any need to be so formal while we’re in private. And why are you even here when you should be at the Waterhole? You look like you’ve just fallen into a pit filled with System Spawn.”

Tamir gulped, trying to choose his words carefully. “I… I just didn’t expect all of this. It’s a bit… overwhelming. I came to invite you to the festival, but I don’t want to bother you.”

Zareth looked around with a bewildered expression as if he was seeing it for the first time before turning back to Tamir, wincing momentarily in embarrassment. “Ah, I see. I suppose it would look a little macabre for someone who didn’t know what to expect. I assure you, everything here has a purpose and will be beneficial to our cult.”

Tamir frowned slightly before gesturing toward the container in the back. “Even the… people floating in the glass jars?”

“Oh, those aren’t people, ” Zareth said with a light chuckle. “They’re clumps of biomass for me to test some of my ideas on. It’d be really useful if I could make them identical to humanoid bodies, but it’s been a lot more difficult than I expected. I suspect that I need to increase my Control stat so that I can accomplish some of the more precise modifications before they become functional. Still, they’re good enough that I decided to apply my templates to them.”

Tamir let out a breath of relief, grateful that his boss hadn’t kidnapped someone off the street and stuck their floating body in a jar.

“Perhaps I should give you a tour of the lab and show you what I’ve been working on,” Zareth said with a thoughtful expression. “It might help you understand and feel more at ease. Besides, my entire reason for bringing you here was because I wanted to show off some of the things that I’ve been making for the military.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Tamir responded, more of his tension melting away.

The boss looked relieved, and started leading him toward the glass containers in the back of the room. Tamir followed after a moment of hesitation. He still intended to convince the boss to go to the festival… but that could wait until after Tamir didn’t feel like he was about to faint.

Zareth might have made a bit of a mistake when he let Tamir enter his laboratory without giving the kid a warning first…

In his defense, Zareth’s attention over the past few weeks had been entirely consumed with maneuvering his cult into a good position to contribute to the war effort. Arranging for Gurza to provide High Command with rations, organizing people for the First Rain Festival so that the slums would continue providing a steady stream of recruits, and working on his augmentation templates had all been incredibly time consuming.

It was a good thing that he’d started working on his laboratory quite a while ago, especially since Zareth had been forced to set it up alone to keep Meldorath’s Heart a secret. It was only because he intended to cultivate Tamir into a high-ranking member of the cult that he let the kid inside without any hesitation.

Unfortunately, Zareth hadn’t realized how desensitized he had become to the gory aspects of his research until he noticed Tamir’s reaction.

Oh well. I suppose this is a good chance to see if Tamir has the stomach for this kind of work, Zareth mused as he walked toward his biomass test dummies.

“I’ve been studying the anatomies of various rare monsters provided to me by House Vhelan and using that to prepare three different augmentation templates that should each fulfill a different role in the military,” Zareth explained with a hint of excitement, eager to finally share his work with someone else. “Those being scouts, light infantry, and heavy infantry. I considered creating something to help with sieges, but nothing I could think of had any hope of surpassing a group of dedicated [War Mages] using Siege Spells like [Greater Inferno] or [Continuous Earthquake].”

Tamir still seemed nervous, but also fairly curious as his eyes drifted toward the humanoid shapes floating peacefully in alchemical fluid.

“This is my Scouting Template, which I derived from studying a Glassweaver Spider,” said Zareth as he gestured to the first container. Inside was a shimmering humanoid form that was difficult to see. “As you can tell, it's designed primarily for stealth. It was difficult to ensure that the light-refracting quality of the skin could be activated and deactivated at will, but I was able to succeed after multiple iterations. Given that most varieties of the [Scout] Class don’t acquire a stealth skill unless they choose a specialized Class Evolution, I believe this will be a huge benefit. I call it the Mirage Stalker.”

Of course, there were a bunch of other minor modifications such as the same redundant organs and enhanced senses that he’d given himself, but those had been added to all of the templates and Zareth didn’t feel the need to list them.

“That… is pretty amazing,” Tamir said in awe, peering closely at the specimen. “Can you really just give people abilities like this? When will I be able to do that?”

“Soon. As long as you continue learning from Instructor Hallenford,” Zareth said with a smile, pleased to see Tamir’s enthusiasm. “You and the rest of the [Cultists] have far more resources than I ever did, so it should take a fraction of the time to acquire [Permanent Flesh Manipulation]. Once you do, I intend to teach you all how to create these templates.”

It was in fact one of Zareth’s primary goals. He had no intention of spending the entirety of his time augmenting soldiers for High Command, so he would delegate that duty away as quickly as possible.

These templates would only be given to select soldiers, since most of them required him to feed expensive alchemical compounds into Meldorath’s Heart to produce the necessary magic infused biomass, but it would still be an excessive workload for Zareth to handle alone.

Deciding to move on to the next template, Zareth led Tamir to the adjacent container. “This one is designated for light infantry and is derived from the augmentations that I use for myself. I named it the Plaguebringer.”

He’d given it the same ability to fight at mid-range using poisoned quills, but decided against giving it tendrils. A [Soldier] wouldn’t have Zareth’s ability to completely ignore pain or quickly reform the tendrils if they were cut off, making them more of a liability than an asset. Instead, Zareth gave it an organ to exude extremely deadly poisonous gasses while also allowing it to breathe under those conditions.

High Command would need to ensure that the augmented soldiers were kept away from the rest of their forces to avoid friendly fire, but it had the potential to devastate an enemy unit in moments if used correctly.

In addition, Zareth had managed to develop a more flexible form of keratin based on his quills that could be applied more generally. This meant that he could improve the scales of lizardkin soldiers or even create a subdermal layer of armor for soldiers who had skin. It itched a lot for non-lizardkin and could only cover particularly vulnerable spots so as to not compromise temperature regulation, but it would be invaluable on the battlefield.

After testing, Zareth had determined that it would take a standard level 20 [Soldier] multiple full-power hits to break through the layer of armor without using a Skill like [Piercing Strike].

Even better, the light infantry template was actually cheaper to produce than the scouting template. The only magic-infused biomass involved in its creation was the poison creating organ, and the rest could be done with standard flesh manipulation.

Zareth could already imagine High Command showering him in rewards once their legions of undying soldiers started sweeping across the desert in a cloud of deadly mist.

Once he finished explaining, Tamir seemed even more impressed with the second template, “That honestly sounds… terrifying, boss. Wouldn’t something like this just mean that we’ll win the war outright?”

“Oh, I doubt it. The versatility of the System means that there are always ways to adapt,” said Zareth, hoping the kid wouldn’t have any unwarranted expectations. “However, that doesn’t mean that it won’t give Tal’Qamar a considerable edge. It’ll probably take them weeks before their [Strategists] come up with effective countermeasures, which we can exploit.”

At least, that was the assessment that he’d been given by Rizok once Zareth demonstrated his new augmentations to him.

“This is my heavy infantry template, which I devised from studying a Steelhorn Rhino,” Zareth said as he led Tamir to the final and largest container. “It’s not quite as exciting or creative as the others, but I think it gets the job done.”

The heavy infantry template was simply designed to be as durable as possible. It took organ redundancy to the extreme, having significantly increased biomass so that Zareth could fit a duplicate for every major organ. In addition to that, it also had thicker layers of dermal shielding when compared to the light infantry and the outer layer had several sharp, bony protrusions designed to impale any foes that got too close, minimizing any compromises to mobility.

This template would most likely be applied to those with high Vitality Stats, so they could act as impenetrable walls on the battlefield. The protrusions would prevent anyone from rushing past and ensure any cavalry charge was met with a grisly end. While they wouldn’t be able to move as quickly as the light infantry or scouts due to their bulk, they would serve as the backbone to any formation.

That was why Zareth decided to call it the ‘Bulwark.’

“They look… a lot scarier than the other two,” Tamir said with a sense of awe. “If they fight as well as they look, you’re going to cause Tal’Qamar to start being called the ‘City of Monsters’, boss.”

Zareth certainly hoped so. The cult of Cerebon needed to become more invaluable to Tal’Qamar’s prosperity than any other religion in the city. If he accomplished that, then the powers that be would have no choice but to protect his cult from any force that wanted to undermine them and grant them certain concessions.

With that kind of security, Zareth would be free to spread the influence of his cult throughout Tal’Qamar without being interfered with by people like Kassan or House Khysar.

With the introduction to his templates completed, Zareth spent the next few minutes showing Tamir around the rest of the laboratory. He introduced the various alchemical concoctions, primitive scientific devices, and anatomy books that he’d been able to acquire. He also showed Tamir some of his ongoing projects that had been less successful, such as his attempt to replicate the flesh golem designs from the tome he’d found in Meldorath’s temple and his attempt to create a humanoid capable of flying.

The latter had been met with relatively little success, as humanoids needed impractical wingspans to support their weight along with a significantly different muscle and rib system. Zareth was confident he could overcome those problems with Meldorath’s Heart, but it would take some time to find the best way of doing so.

The former had been quite a bit more successful, despite Zareth lacking the [Create Lesser Flesh Golem] Skill necessary to actually animate and establish control over the creations. Zareth had decided to make it a priority to focus more on flesh golems after Kassan so infuriatingly highlighted his cult's ability to project force and protect people outside of the spire.

In addition, Zareth needed a way to have some kind of presence beyond the walls of Tal’Qamar so that he could do things like witness the performance of his templates with his own eyes. Unfortunately, his position as leader of the cult inevitably meant that he couldn’t leave the city whenever he felt like it. Flesh golems, however, could be the perfect solution.

According to the Grimoire of Cerebon, he would eventually be able to acquire a Skill that allowed him to take direct control over a golem as if it were his own body, solving the issue entirely.

If only I had more Skills Points, Zareth thought with a sense of frustration. There are so many Skills that would be useful if I could get them, like [Template Body].

By the time the tour was finished, Tamir seemed both fascinated and much more comfortable than when he’d arrived. The kid buried Zareth under a deluge of questions that he patiently answered until Tamir seemed to suddenly remember why he had originally come to the lab.

“Oh, right!” Tamir exclaimed, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “I nearly forgot why I came here, boss. You need to go to the First Rain Festival before it’s over. Everyone is out there having a good time, and you should be there. People need to see the leader of our cult if they’re going to trust us!”

Zareth hesitated as he thought the matter over. He was scheduled to present his templates to High Command in a few days and had intended to spend most of his time improving them as much as possible. General Nasrith would soon be launching a massive offensive to push back the enemy coalition’s forces and lay siege to Fal’Ashar, and Zareth wanted his augmentations to play a decisive role in the upcoming battles.

However… an argument could be made that the perception of Tal’Qamar’s citizens was just as important for his cult’s future. Besides, there was nothing wrong with taking a break every once in a while and enjoying yourself.

Zareth sighed and decided to give in. “Alright, Tamir. I’ll attend the festival, but only unti—”

Zareth trailed off as he suddenly sensed something strange. Someone, radiating one of the most potent feelings of devotion to Cerebon that he had ever felt, was walking toward his spire. It was so intense that they felt like a beacon in the dark, containing a degree of fervor and absolute faith that couldn’t possibly belong to anyone in his cult.

“Sorry, Tamir,” Zareth said as he hurried out of his lab. “I don’t think I’ll be able to attend the festival after all.”

Zareth ignored Tamir’s confused questions and Rizok’s curious gaze as he briskly made his way to the entrance of the spire.

The moment he stepped outside, Zareth immediately locked his gaze onto a tall, cloaked figure walking toward the spire from the direction of the slums. It was clear from their six-arms that they were a shivarath, most likely a female given their size, but the cloak hid the rest of their appearance as they drew closer.

A quick sweep with the [Eye of Cerebon] confirmed that they weren’t hiding anything behind illusions, so Zareth felt comfortable stepping forward to welcome them once they were within speaking distance. “Welcome to Tal’Qamar. At least, I assume this is your first time in the city. Am I right to believe that you are the one sent to us by Lord Cerebon?”

“You are indeed,” said the shivarath, her feminine voice firm as she spoke with a strange accent before bowing to him with all three pairs of arms crossed over her chest. “My name is Vidhatri, and I am the Senior Fleshwarper of Cerebon’s chosen faithful in the nation of Dehkshetra. I greet you, Cultist Zareth.”

The shivarath came up from her bow and pulled back her hood, revealing a visage that was both awe-inspiring and slightly unnerving. Shivarath generally looked like humans, aside from their six-arms and increased height, but Vidhatri had clearly undergone many alterations to her form.

Cerebon must really approve of extra eyes, Zareth mused as he took in the extra pair situated directly under Vidhatri’s natural set, each lacking pupils and glowing faintly with magic. Her skin was unnaturally pale, a stark contrast to the usual light bronze or brown of most shivarath. She had even more piercings than Zareth, her ears elongated like an elf’s and filled with ivory jewelry.

Around her neck, she wore a necklace made of some sort of pulsing organic matter that was carefully shaped and adorned with ornate designs that likely indicated some sort of status. Zareth could see hints of tattoos peeking out from the collar of her cloak, but was unable to make out any further details.

All in all, Zareth concluded that Vidhatri was a very… unique looking individual, as would be expected from a devout worshiper of Cerebon.

“I greet you as well, Senior Fleshwarper Vidhatri,” Zareth called out, deciding to follow her method of introduction. “Please, allow me to show you around our temple. Then we can go to my office. I imagine we have a lot to talk about.”

Vidhatri gave a nod, her eyes assessing as she looked at him. “Indeed we do. There are few who have managed to earn such favor with the Weaver of Sinew, nor are there many lands beyond Zumair where he is worshiped. I look forward to what has garnered his attention here.”

The shivarath’s response was both formal and polite, but something about it sounded vaguely ominous to Zareth’s ears. Not quite sure how to respond, he merely shared a cautious glance with Rizok and began leading Vidhatri on his promised tour of the spire.

It was only a few moments into the tour when Zareth’s feeling of vague apprehension was suddenly vindicated.

“Where is it that you perform your sacrifices?” Vidhatri asked casually, glancing around as though expecting to see an altar or a sacrificial pit.

Zareth let out a long suffering sigh as Rizok looked on in amusement and Tamir’s face drained of color.

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