"Why do you exist?" Adyr asked the question not with a rational mind but from pure instinct, feeling that it needed to be asked, as if it were pulled straight from somewhere deep inside him.

He was not expecting an answer. He did not even truly understand what the question he had asked meant or to whom he was addressing it.

But the figure answered.

"How many more times must I be unmade to reach eternity?"

The voice rang inside Adyr's skull. It was the very same voice that had been echoing inside his head for a while now, heavy and familiar. It pushed his already shaking mind once again to the edge of crumbling, like pressure building against glass.

He once again felt the thirst and hunger swell inside him as he turned his gaze to his other arm, the still intact one. Then he started to eat its flesh, teeth tearing into his skin without a second of hesitation.

Seeing this, a deep frown appeared on the figure's unreadable face as it took a step forward.

"You only devour everything until nothing is left behind."

The voice this time felt closer and heavy with rage. The calm tone now carried a sharp edge.

But Adyr did not seem to hear it. He kept reveling in the taste of his own flesh, lost in the cycle of bite and swallow.

The figure kept walking on the sea of blood. With every step it took, its crimson world seemed to tremble with quakes, small waves surging outward beneath its feet.

"You are no longer needed." The voice came thick with hatred and anger, yet beneath that edge lay the weight of thousands of years of exhaustion and fear, a weariness that felt ancient. "Go back to where you came from."

When the figure stood in front of the gate, ready to step out, the other two figures at the gates finally moved.

They both reached their gigantic hands out from their gates and, with a brutal clash, smashed the blood gate. It shattered completely before the figure inside could step out, fragments of crimson light scattering like broken glass.

The two figures watched the gate completely disappear under their hands. Then they once again shifted their focus to Adyr, watching him continue to devour himself like he was eating the most delicious meal of his life, his body already ruined yet still moving.

After a while, they also withdrew back into their gates, which vanished with them, leaving no trace they had ever existed, leaving only the ruined mountaintop and Adyr behind.

Adyr, left alone once again, did not stop. Once he had lost all the flesh on his arms, he proceeded to consume the bones, his jaws functioning in a mechanical manner.

The steel-hard bones crumbled between his teeth, cracking with a sharp, crisp sound as he chewed, each bite echoing unnaturally in the quiet.

The whole place, the mountaintop, and the forest around remained wrapped in the same eerie silence, with only the sounds of bones snapping echoing through it until he finally stopped, his hunger at last satisfied and the urge inside him dulled.

Still sitting cross-legged with two arms gone, Adyr raised his head. His completely blood-filled eyes stared at the sky, streaks of red still drying on his face.

The sky was already dark. The golden sun had taken on a monochrome form, burning in white and black flames that seemed intent on erasing the madness it had been forced to witness.

Watching the unfamiliar yet strangely calming sun, Adyr started to regain his senses once again. As his consciousness returned, he felt a wave of disgust churn in his stomach, his body finally reacting to what his mind had done.

With a sudden rush of something surging up his throat, he opened his mouth wide and started to vomit everything he had eaten.

What poured out from his stomach was only crimson blood. He continued to vomit liters of blood, the sound wet and harsh, as it transformed the ground beneath him into a pool that spread around his crossed legs.

And when he expelled the last of the blood, far more than his stomach should have been able to hold, the accumulated blood began to move. It started to cover his whole body and the ground around him, crawling up his skin like a living thing.

Adyr, at this stage, lost his consciousness once again as the blood around him took the shape of a cocoon and began to harden.

It turned into a blood-red metallic shell around him, sealing him inside, readying itself for the final metamorphosis to complete his Rank 4 evolution.

—

In the Midlands, where the air was thick with a nauseating stench and the soil lay soaked in decay, a body lay motionless in a pool of blood, a divine corpse laid out for an ongoing ritual.

He looked like a teenage boy with completely white skin, as if all the blood had been drained from his body, making him look dead.

His long, crimson hair floated on the surface of the blood, and two black horns jutted forward from his head, giving him the appearance of a handsome devil carved from contrast.

Around this boy were hundreds of figures kneeling with red masks on their faces and black robes hiding all their features. From how dirty and worn the robes looked, it was obvious they had been there for far too long in that position, waiting for something with unwavering patience, their backs slightly hunched from the strain.

Among them was one man, the only one who wore no mask or robe. He was completely naked yet kneeling in the same posture, exposed to the cold air and the stench around them.

His long hair looked filthy and matted with soil, and his white skin was splattered with blood, like grotesque decorations meant to make him look even more miserable. His body had been reduced to a living symbol of devotion.

The man seemed to be in a trance as he kept kneeling and worshipping the figure lying in blood before him. He stayed like that until a voice pulled him out of that silent state.

"Sevrak."

A female voice reached him, clear and calm, making him raise his head and open his eyes. His two dark, blood-colored pupils are fixed on the robed figure approaching him through the kneeling crowd.

"Your Holiness." Sevrak, without delay, greeted the figure with utmost respect, his voice hoarse yet sincere.

The woman looked at him with unseen features behind her mask. Only her crimson eyes gleamed through the gaps, and her crimson lips curved into a faint smile as she said, "You are finally ready to serve Him."

The woman exuded deep satisfaction, as though she had finally accomplished a long-awaited step.

"Rise."

With that command, Sevrak rose to his feet, revealing his full figure. He was completely smeared with dirt, soil, and dried blood that had cracked over his skin.

The previously black scales on his chest area, which extended up to his neck, now looked completely red. Combined with his crimson eyes, they made him appear even more intimidating.

His body also looked leaner, with the hollow sharpness of someone who had gone days without food. Yet every muscle beneath that thin-looking skin seemed far stronger than before, his frame carrying a quiet, dangerous tension.

The woman, after inspecting him from head to toe, had a red mask and robe appear in her hand. She tossed them to him.

"You have only one thing left to do to become one of us now," she said with a sneer. "Now go and bring the remains of that treasure."

It had not been long since Sevrak was promised power in exchange for bringing back the remains of the Heart of the Blood Palace. Now, having become a Blood Path Practitioner and gained a power he had never even imagined, it was his turn to complete the duty that had been laid upon him.

Sevrak, holding the black robe and the blood-red mask, dropped back to his knees. He spoke in a reverent and excited voice. "I will not let you and Him down."

The woman nodded once, satisfied with his determination, but still added one more warning.

"I will send two Rank 4 Practitioners with you to help you find it. Keep in mind that you have no option to return with empty hands."

Though the Heart of the Blood Palace had already been used and crumbled, even its remains were extremely important to them, still holding the material of corrupted blood—fragments of what they considered sacred.

To complete the body for the God they were trying to resurrect and make it worthy, they needed every fragment of ancient corrupted blood they could find to strengthen it, piece by piece.

If she had been able to, she would have gone herself or sent a Rank 5 Adept to complete the task. However, because of the organization's restrictions and the scrutiny from other factions, they could not deploy their powerful members without risking exposure and unwanted attention. They were forced to work from the shadows instead.

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