LXXVI.

LXXVI.

They stood on the outskirts of the town, admiring the ruins it had become. Nearly half of its buildings had been swallowed-up by the ever-expanding pool of black bottomless water that Heskel had invoked almost a year prior. Those buildings that were left standing had been thoroughly destroyed by the intense fighting that had taken place within the walls of the town sometime after Jakobs flight.

This town was known as Rooskeld.

Those waters, Iskandarr started, pointing to the lake, they are not of this world, are they?

Indeed. My companion invoked the Great Devourer, Nwetrou, and this is the aftermath of such an invocation. It is said that the lakes created by Nwetrou never stop expanding, though they normally dont grow this rapidly, so it seems this lake was fed a lot of matter.

The Great Devourer, primogenitor of Gluttony, Iskandarr stated, recalling Jakobs teachings. Why do such all-powerful beings respond to the call of mortals? Are we not like insignificant motes of dust before them?New novel chapters are published on

A breath of vapour emerged from Jakobs permanently-masked face, rising into the night air. Some of his constructs were wandering about, exploring the ruins, while the rest remained motionless and would stay that way until Jakob tasked them with something.

He motioned to one of the exploring constructs with a gesture and said, These creations of mine are given life through the Eternal Serpents benediction. Like you, I wondered what cause a supreme entity such as It would have for letting mortals utilise its awesome power, but it is actually rather simple. The Great Ones were either birthed from the manifestation of certain undeniable elements in the world, such as Sight, Hearing, Smell, Warmth, Cold, Life, Death, and so forth, or they were birthed by the rare ascension of powerful individuals throughout the millennia the cosmos has existed.

For them to exist, there needs to be mortals who exhibit their powers and utilise their gifts. And for them to thrive, there needs to be mortals like you and I who worship them and call upon their powers. Some of the Great Ones are content to simply exist and thus cannot be called upon, but most wish to exert their influence upon the Mortal Realm and grow their power, for to such long-lived entities, scheming and struggling for power is a game that keeps them occupied.

And who can say if their positions are the highest possible there is? It is quite possible that even the Watcher, Supreme as He is, seeks some higher position of power that we cannot fathom.

I thought so, Jakob said, returning the Elphin Mask to Iskandarr. But why does she respond to you?

Father, I do not know. What I do know is that my will cannot be denied.

Like a true Sovereign, I suppose.

The rats had answered the Beckoning Bell en masse. With a few words of power, they were slaved to his mind and his eyes, and moved through his devastated workshops and laboratoriums according to his whims. He had in the past toyed with the concept of mass enslavement and mind absorption of lesser creatures, but today was the first time he had put it to use.

Controlling such a multitude of different minds was taxing, but he had nothing but time, and over the following few days he learnt to use the power well enough that he could simultaneously command two dozen rats individually, with the rest of the horde slaved to the actions of these select few.

Utilising his command over the vermin, he began to pull the scraps of ruined work and samples towards his inner sanctum, where his true hands could work on them and make some simple servants to speed up the revival of his sewer kingdom. But it was an undertaking that would require more time than he had, and, for all he knew, his mentee thundered towards him with flames in his eyes. He deserved it, for all he had done, but hoped a nave sort of leniency that the boy might have would see him spared.

But the Fleshcrafter was no blind optimist, so he continued to gather the ruins of his lifes work to his inner sanctum, recovering what he could and cannibalising the rest for parts. He was determined to put up a fight if he had to, and he knew the boy well enough to know how to exploit his way of thinking.

He wished that he had not set loose the Wrath Demon he had nurtured for all those years, but he was nothing if not a servant to his Lady and her machinations, though her gifts had dried up as of late. But he knew that she had already gifted him more than most other mortals ever received. Granted, her way of offering power always came with a price or an exaction, his missing body was a testament to that, as were his many other setbacks. However, if not for his diligent offerings to her, he would never have acquired all his vast stores of arcane knowledge and esoteric lore.

While a finger was taken from his left hand, his right hand was handed a fragment of power, such was her gift-giving, always.

But the Fleshcrafter would eventually gain the final bit of power he needed, and then he could at last enact the plans that had been decades in the making. He would reach for the cosmos and they would deign him with an answer. Goddard, the Fleshcrafter who bore many names, would ascend to Their glorious ranks and he would at last be absolved of all the things he had sacrificed and all the crimes he had committed.