Cultist of Cerebon - Litrpg/Isekai

One of the worst aspects about calling down a god’s wrath to smite your enemies was that you were never quite certain what to expect.

Zareth had known that it wouldn’t be pretty, but the specifics of the matter were left for Cerebon to decide. He had definitely wanted to send a memorable message so that everyone in Tal’Qamar would know that his cult wasn’t to be taken lightly… but the actual result had been a tad bit more gruesome than anticipated.

There were many consequences that had already come from this, some of which were quite positive.

His cult had actually received a sudden influx of willing recruits, as strength was a quality that was highly revered in a city like Tal’Qamar, and there were many who wished to gain access to Cerebon’s power. He’d also noticed a sharp spike in devotion among many of those who had participated in his ritual.

However, there were also a few… less than desirable consequences, one of which he was being forced to deal with now.

“I’m not really certain why this is necessary, Investigator Silnara,” said Zareth as he leaned back in his seat, interrupting the tedious questions being asked of him by the female lizardkin in front of him. “It’s not as if High Command wasn’t informed of our intended actions before we moved against the Conclave. I don’t see why they felt the need to send someone to interrogate me for my actions.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t refer to this as an interrogation, Cultist Zareth. This is simply the proper procedure that needs to be taken after any military operation,” Investigator Silnara lied with an oily smile. The floating quill by her side suddenly paused its transcription as their not-an-interrogation momentarily halted. “It’s important that we verify all the details of what happened for our records. It wouldn’t do to be careless during a war, after all. We went through a similar process with your guard.”

Zareth glanced at Rizok, who was standing quietly in the corner of the room as he usually did and shared a mutual look of annoyance.

In truth, the lizardkin in front of him almost certainly had ties to one of the Great Houses and was here to gather information for her benefactors. House Vhelan had done a very good job keeping things under wraps, so his ritual must have come as quite a surprise to them.

While his actions against the Conclave had earned Zareth respect amongst his cult, it also meant the other factions in Tal’Qamar were taking them much more seriously than they had before.

“Very well, Investigator,” Zareth said begrudgingly. “Although, it would be best if we could hurry this along. Garrison-Commander Tholin ordered the Hierophant Council to gather for what is likely to be a very important discussion. I doubt he would appreciate it if I was late because I was detained by you asking questions.”

He didn’t actually know what the Garrison-Commander wanted or how he would react, but he wasn’t technically lying when he said it would likely be important and that he doubted he would appreciate a delay.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be sure to do so,” said Silnara, tensing only slightly as her Skill no doubt verified the authenticity of his statement. “Are you certain that you can’t be a bit more specific on how you were able to discover the location of the Conclave’s operatives? There were many parties who were attempting to do so, yet you were the only one who had any success.”

Zareth ignored the blatant suspicion in the woman’s expression and responded with an exasperated tone. “As I said before, I was informed that the Conclave was hiding within the Silk Serpents’ territory by an information broker named Whitescale. It was only through Cerebon’s grace that I managed to narrow down their exact location.”

He had to stop himself from snorting at Silnara’s obvious frustration. She’d been asking questions like that for a while now, attempting to discover how he’d found the Conclave and whether or not he could replicate the effects of the ritual.

Zareth had been giving her a variety of vague but truthful answers, such as ‘I could only accomplish it thanks to Cerebon’ or ‘Cerebon’s wrath is unpredictable.’ He had no intention of sharing more about his cult’s capabilities than strictly necessary.

This had been going on for a while now, and it was obvious that the Investigator was starting to lose her patience.

“Just one more question, Cultist Zareth,” said Investigator Silnara after a few more minutes of asking fruitless questions. “Why did you choose to act in such a lethal manner? My interviews with the soldiers participating in the operation led me to believe that the goal was to capture the enemy operatives alive. Rhyssal Vhysara’s mother is levying a complaint against you for the cruel and unnecessary murder of her son.”

“The Vhysara family is under investigation for treason, among many other crimes, and they aren’t the only ones,” Zareth said incredulously before gesturing meaningfully toward his office window. They both had a perfect view of soldiers walking in and out of the spire belonging to Kassan and the Circle of Ghisara.

From what he’d been told by Lady Marilith, the Vhysara family was pretty much done for. While most of the people subject to Cerebon’s curse had been killed, a few of them had been captured alive and had their minds pilfered for information.

Zareth hadn’t been briefed on everything that they’d found, but it was apparently enough that even a family of wealthy naga couldn’t avoid having many of their more important members arrested and likely eventually executed. Unfortunately, very little evidence had been found to implicate anyone else in the matter.

The only reason Zareth’s colleague was being investigated was due to his marriage ties with the Vhysara, and it likely wouldn’t amount to much.

Still, it annoyed him that the Investigator was pretending that the complaints against him were anything more than a desperate political maneuver.

“Be that as it may,” Investigator Silnara began. “The official intent was to capture and interrogate the enemy. Your ritual led to an overwhelming majority of them being killed instead. While many understand that our city’s security is paramount, there are some who are concerned about your cult’s actions. The manner of death was quite unpleasant and ignoble.”

Zareth took a deep breath, his patience thinning. “My intent was to incapacitate the Conclave and prevent them from escaping or retaliating. The precise form of Cerebon’s wrath was not mine to dictate. Gods do not operate on the whims of mortals.”

He could only thank Cerebon that the god’s fleshy abominations had died shortly after completing their tasks. Zareth’s life would be much more complicated right now if there was a giant man-eating house devouring pedestrians in the middle of Tal’Qamar.

“I see. Then I suppose it’s safe to assume that your cult lacks the ability to safely replicate such a feat?” asked Investigator Silnara, a hint of interest creeping into her voice.

Zareth inwardly cursed himself for revealing more than he’d intended, but kept his expression neutral as he responded. “That is for Cerebon to decide. I hope nobody else decides to attack my cult as viciously as the Conclave. Otherwise, we’ll discover just how predictable my god’s wrath can be.”

He could tell from the look in Silnara’s eyes that the thinly veiled threat in his words had been received. He hoped that it would find its way back to the many people who would be reading the transcript of this conversation.

Silnara continued her attempts to probe him for information for several more minutes before Zareth decided that he’d had enough.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s time that I go prepare for my next meeting,” Zareth said, making a show of looking at the sun’s position through the window. “I’d really rather not test the Garrison-Commander’s temper by being late.”

Investigator Silnara didn’t seem pleased to be dismissed, but had little choice in the matter. The Garrison-Commander was technically the current highest authority in Tal’Qamar, and he would remain as such while the rest of the military was off at war.

Zareth slumped in his chair with relief the moment Silnara exited his office. That conversation was more stressful than he’d expected and had gone on for too long.

“Are you alright, sir?” Rizok asked with concern as he closed the office door behind the departing lizardkin.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Zareth said as he used his flesh manipulation to forcefully relax his muscles and ease his impending headache. “I’m just not completely sure how much she managed to learn from me. I also started to feel strangely fatigued toward the end.”

“She likely learned more than she let on,” Rizok said with surprising irritation in his voice. “The kesh’sisk is an [Investigator] which means she’s required by regulation to acquire [Intuitive Questioning] and [Trustworthy Presence]. That fatigue you feel is likely a result of your Willpower attempting to combat the influence of her various Skills. Still, I could tell from her expression that she didn’t discover as much as her masters would have liked.”

Zareth let out a huff as he considered Rizok’s words and stood from his seat, intending to head toward his personal chambers and change into something more formal for his meeting. He’d have liked to spend a few minutes just relaxing, but he’d need to walk and talk if he didn’t want to be late.

It was somewhat annoying that the [Investigator] had used those kinds of Skills on him, but there was little he could have done about it. Military dictatorships didn’t tend to have qualms about the privacy of their citizens.

“I guess I should just be glad that Willpower is one of my higher Stats,” Zareth said absentmindedly, feeling a bit flustered as one of his followers bowed to him with an embarrassing degree of reverence the moment he stepped out of his office. After acknowledging the follower with a nod and continuing his way up the spire, he turned to Rizok with a curious expression. “By the way, what do you mean by kesh’sisk? I’m not familiar with the word.”

The most prevalent language throughout the Qahtani Desert was Nephalan, a language that had become the dominant tongue during the Nephala Dynasty’s long reign over the region. It tended towards deep throat sounds and emphatic consonants, which didn’t really match ‘kesh’sisk.’

The word was too sibilant, sounding more like something he’d expect to hear from the traditional naga language, Seshani. However, only the most pompous naga still used Seshani for anything other than ceremonial purposes, so it was strange to hear Rizok say it, especially with such disdain.

“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t be familiar with it,” Rizok said after a moment of hesitation. “It’s a term used by wealthy naga to describe… certain families of lizardkin who’ve served their households for generations. It translates roughly as ‘honored servants.’ It’s intended to be a term of respect, and the kesh’sisk are meant to be treated as if they are members of the household. They embed specific types of gem in one of their scales to identify the family they represent. I saw one on the bottom of her tail belonging to one of House Khysar’s branch families.”

That was interesting information, and actually quite useful. Zareth had noticed that the Great Houses tended to favor hiring lizardkin, though he hadn’t known that there was an actual term for it.

It also told him a little bit more about Rizok, as he’d noticed that the lizardkin had a ruby gem of his own embedded in his calf, implying that his family had been considered honored servants of House Vhelan. Zareth briefly thought about asking Rizok, but something told him that topic of conversation wouldn’t be particularly welcome.

“Then, I assume sending her is meant to be some kind of message?” Zareth asked despite already knowing the answer, sighing as he entered his chambers and immediately went over to his wardrobe. “Something along the lines of ‘we saw what you did and we’re watching you’?”

“That would be a safe assumption,” said Rizok, politely looking away as Zareth began changing into a stylized sherwani he’d been gifted by Onara. “It’s a message that I hope you take seriously. I told you once that your greatest protection was that you were too weak to be considered a genuine threat. That is clearly changing.”

Zareth remembered that. It was during their little adventure through the Qahtani Desert when Rizok claimed that he would be more honest after Zareth could protect his mind. They hadn’t discussed the matter at all since then, so it made him tense to hear Rizok mention it even tangentially.

“Is that a general warning, or do you have something specific in mind?” Zareth asked, standing in front of the mirror and ensuring that his attire was perfectly in place. “It’d be hard for me to forget that I have enemies after the meeting I just had or the one I’m heading to now.”

Zareth couldn’t help but hum in satisfaction as he took in his appearance. He’d come a long way from the scrawny street urchin he once was or even the moderately successful entrepreneur who’d gone around enhancing rich people's beauty for a few gold coins. Onara had done well, creating a garb of deep blues and silvers that contrasted well with his darker skin while also being incredibly comfortable.

He wasn’t usually one to care about fashion, but he knew that the impression he gave off was very important, especially today.

The Hierophant Council had only formally gathered once, during the early days following the Conclave being thrown out of the city. They’d mostly just agreed on a few rules, such as to not bother each other or poach each other's followers. Being called to gather by the Garrison-Commander was no small thing, and he had no intention of going in while looking like a slob.

“As always, I would urge you to gain your Class Evolution as quickly as possible,” said Rizok, opening the door for him as they began to descend the spire. “For someone in your position, it’s difficult to over exaggerate how important it will be for your future. Especially since High Command will no doubt be demanding more from your cult after your display of power.”

“Well, I’ve only one more level to go. Given how ridiculously fast I’ve gained my past five levels, I don’t think anyone could say that I’ve been idle,” Zareth pointed out, feeling a distinct sense of pride in his achievements.

The ritual had been significant enough that Zareth had managed to gain another level despite already having done so fairly recently. The System had even decided to give him the [Leadership] Skill for free, which was much appreciated. Now he was level 24 and doing what he could to prepare for what everyone was telling him would be one of the most significant decisions of his life.

He’d even decided to save his most recently gained Skill Point, having seen that the System was only offering the same options and knowing that he would soon have many new Skills to choose from. Zareth was naturally prepared to use it in the case of an emergency, but a short delay seemed like an acceptable risk.

“And what's this about ‘someone in my position’?” Zareth asked with a hint of apprehension, glancing toward his companion.

Rizok’s tone made him feel as if the lizardkin had something specific in mind.

“I’m referring to your role as someone who more and more people are beginning to view as their leader,” Rizok said with a seriousness that immediately grabbed his attention. “Whether they be nations, militaries, gangs, or cults, any organization has the potential to be dramatically empowered and shaped by the Classes of those at its helm.”

Zareth instantly understood what Rizok was referring to. While the most prevalent examples of Skills that affected large numbers of peoples were those coming from the rulers, that didn’t mean individuals leading small-scale organizations couldn’t gain them as well. During his time with the Phantom Scorpions, the gang leader had a Skill that made its members slightly less noticeable while committing crimes.

Just as he was about to ask to continue their discussion, Zareth was momentarily distracted as he reached the bottom floor of his spire and was spotted by the members of his cult. Almost immediately, the loud buzz of conversation that he could hear as he descended the spire came to a near halt, and every head turned to look in his direction.

Zareth had never been disrespected by his followers, but he’d also never been on the receiving end of the respect, admiration, or even slight fear that he could see in their eyes now. His first instinct was to shy away from it, but new instincts brought upon by [Leadership] had him straightening his back and smiling warmly as he walked confidently down the stairs.

“Good morning, everyone. I can see that there are many new faces here today,” Zareth said, his voice resonating throughout the hall. Most of the new faces were people who’d previously only joined his cult for [Cerebon’s Boon], but now wanted to get more involved. “I wish I could greet you all, but I have an important meeting to attend. However, I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you in the coming days.”

His words seemed to have a noticeable effect, as smiles broke out among the members of his cult. Several of them began to mutter prayers to Cerebon, while others whispered among themselves in blatant excitement. He could tell that there were a few who wanted to pull him aside for conversation, but they still respectfully made way so that he could pass through the crowd.

It was somewhat uncanny for Zareth to experience how much the way people viewed him could change so much in a single day. Even Tamir had begun to call him ‘Sir’ rather than ‘Boss’ after seeing the results of the ritual, which was a big step up in formality for a former street urchin.

It was a strange feeling… but one he suspected he could grow used to. It also increased the sense of responsibility he felt toward his cult, filling him with a desire to be worthy of their admiration. He’d met many worthless leaders during his lives and didn’t want to be anything like them.

If Zareth thought that he would stop being the center of attention after leaving his spire, it didn’t take long for him to realize he was sorely mistaken. Zareth had stopped bothering to hide his third eye after discovering that he wouldn’t receive any overly negative reactions from it, which meant that he was highly recognizable to the people of Tal’Qamar.

It was immediately clear to him that pretty much everyone had heard about what he had done. That wasn’t surprising when the completion of the ritual had sent a wave of energy throughout the city that caused its citizens to wake up in the middle of the night, feeling as though their skin was writhing.

The looks he received as he walked toward High Command’s headquarters were much more varied than those from his own followers. Many looked at him with awe, while others regarded him with trepidation. There was a lot of curiosity, but also a few who looked at him with distrust and suspicion. Negative reactions came mostly from those faithful to other gods, either the gods of his colleagues or the few who still worshiped gods from the Conclave.

Witnessing the power of gods wasn’t exactly a new concept to the people of Tal’Qamar. Zareth himself could remember a few instances when the Conclave had called on Suhail to diminish particularly bad heatwaves or on Rayya to provide water to the nearby millet, sorghum, and date farms. However, these sorts of events were rare, and the Conclave had always flaunted their own power whenever they did so.

It was obvious that yesterday's events had elevated his cult in the minds of the city’s citizens.

Zareth was more than a little relieved when he and Rizok finally arrived at Tal’Qamar’s former palace and were cleared by security. While the members of the military also looked at him with strange expressions, most of them were far too disciplined to do so blatantly. He was even more relieved when he was informed by an adjutant that he hadn’t arrived late and that it would be a few more minutes before Garrison-Commander Tholin began the meeting.

Unfortunately, that moment of relief didn’t last very long once Zareth entered the meeting room and took a good look at his surroundings. The room was furnished with a design for militant efficiency much like the rest of the headquarters, with the other members of the Hierophant Council sitting around a long wooden table in the center of the room.

He had a neutral relationship with pretty much all of them, not having spoken more than a few sentences with anyone aside from Farida, but there was one notable exception.

“Cultist Zareth, how good of you to arrive,” Kassan greeted him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s good to see you. I don’t believe we’ve spoken since the beginning of the war.”

Zareth had hoped that Kassan would either choose to pretend that he didn’t exist or otherwise be too busy to speak to him, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. That being the case, Zareth didn’t see a need to join in on this fake cordiality. He might have done so if he and Kassan were meeting in some kind of high society event, but there wasn’t anyone here who he needed to pretend for.

“You’re correct. The last time we spoke was during the Declaration Ceremony when you attempted to trick me into allying with House Khysar,” Zareth said calmly as he took his seat. Rizok left his side to go stand with the other guards in the back of the room. “To be honest, I’m surprised to see you here. I expected you to be busy supporting your wife while her family is being accused of treason.”

Kassan’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of his wife, but he quickly recovered and smiled wider, showing a hint of his fangs. “Neither I nor my wife see any reason to support traitors. It’s a shame that a small group of individuals have brought such shame to the Vhysara family, but neither of us had any involvement with their actions. Given that High Command hasn’t seen the need to have us arrested, I think it’s safe to say they agree.”

Zareth couldn’t help but let out an ugly snort at the naga’s words. He had no doubt that Kassan’s freedom was owed solely due to his political influence rather than his supposed innocence.

“I suppose it was just a happy coincidence then that the followers of Ghisara suffered the least of any of us from the Conclave’s agents and mine the most,” Zareth said, voice thick with derision. “I looked into the matter and wasn’t able to find a single instance of your people being targeted.”

“That was indeed a coincidence. One that I would attribute to the… types of individuals each of our faiths have a tendency to recruit,” Kassan replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “Priestess Farida and the Desharin she favors are well protected by their sand elementals. Borak and the Way of Gendal are likewise quite safe among the spirits quietly patrolling their part of the city, while Kinta’s temple is protected by her [Field of Serenity]. My own people tend to live in the Sunstone Heights, which is naturally more secure than the rest of Tal’Qamar. I’m afraid it was simply your own misfortune that you were unable to adequately protect your cult until recently.”

For a single moment, Zareth sincerely considered spitting a stream of acid across the table into Kassan’s smug face. The audacity of the naga’s words, the blatant disregard for those who were killed or lost their livelihood, and the implication that Zareth’s own shortcomings were to blame made his blood boil. Zareth could honestly say that there were only a few times in his life when he’d wanted to attack someone so badly.

And if the amused look in his eyes was any indication, then Kassan knew exactly how much he was provoking him.

Zareth glanced toward the rest of his colleagues to see how they were reacting, but quickly found himself disappointed.

Farida had never liked Kassan in the first place, so there was little that he could glean from the glare she was throwing toward the naga. Borak’s eyes were closed as he leaned back in his seat, not even seeming to pay their argument any attention.

Only Kinta seemed to be studying the situation with any degree of concern, the [Monk] glaring at Kassan with obvious animosity. Given that she had been seriously injured during the Conclave’s first round of assassination attempts, it made sense that she wouldn’t be pleased with the person who helped them.

After several moments, Zareth took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Much to his disgust, he noticed a hint of patronizing approval in Kassan’s serpentine eyes, as though the naga was seeing a child do something particularly impressive.

“Then I suppose I should be much more proactive in protecting my cult in the future, starting with ridding Tal’Qamar of its traitors,” said Zareth, his voice dripping with venom as he glared at the naga. “Somehow, I doubt your wife’s family were the only ones, or that they’ve hidden their crimes as well as they believe.”

Kassan’s expression instantly darkened, making clear that Zareth’s words had struck a nerve. Just as the naga seemed about to launch a retort, their argument was interrupted by a gruff voice.

“I suppose I should be counting my blessings that there’s no chance of you lot conspiring together like the Conclave,” said Garrison-Commander Tholin as he entered the room alongside a few adjutants, sternly rebuffing the soldiers who instantly saluted him. “Can’t say that I’m interested in wasting my time listening to your bickering, so you all better keep it to yourself while I’m here. Understand?”

Zareth took a moment to study the Garrison-Commander as the man took his seat at the head of the table. Tholin was a short and muscular dwarf, with a grizzled white beard that reached down to his chest and a body marked with several scars. His eyes were stern and sharp, looking at everyone in the room with an appraising gaze that seemed to cut right through them.

It was obvious to him that Tholin was a military man above all and wasn’t the type to tolerate any nonsense. Given that he held a high-ranking military position that would normally belong to a naga as a species that was fairly uncommon in Tal’Qamar, he was also likely extremely competent.

“Of course, Garrison-Commander Tholin. My colleague and I were simply attempting to resolve a few disagreements,” said Kassan, flashing a disarming smile.

“You can resolve your disagreements later,” Tholin said dismissively as he gestured for one of his adjutants to begin distributing documents. “For now, we’re here to discuss how you can serve Tal’Qamar and maintain your right to live within its walls.”

Tholin’s tone was commanding, making it clear that this wasn’t a request. While their faiths might have made significant progress consolidating power, it was still High Command who were the highest authority in Tal’Qamar.

Not wanting to provoke any further confrontations in front of the Garrison-Command, Zareth turned his attention to the documents handed to him. To his surprise, each of them seemed to contain various pieces of information regarding the ongoing war and how it was progressing. One of the staff officers even unrolled a large map across the table that showed the Qahtani Desert before beginning to place various markers across its surface.

“While you lot were busy scheming against each other, our soldiers were busy spilling blood trying to take Fal’Ashar,” said Tholin, gesturing toward a portion of the map west of Tal’Qamar. “The campaign was looking good for some time, but General Nasrith is now facing an enemy coalition that's being helped along by the Conclave. Thanks to Cultist Zareth, we don’t need to worry about [Assassins] running around in our city anymore. That means it’s about time that you folk start making yourself more useful to the war effort.”

Zareth listened carefully as the Garrison-Commander explained the current military situation and what was being asked of them. Apparently, the Conclave’s operatives had been doing even more harm than he’d known, often sabotaging the city’s supply lines and causing various other problems for High Command.

Their absence meant that the Garrison-Commander had immediately and decisively started transitioning some of Tal’Qamar’s defensive assets to the offensive fronts, doing what he could to help the front lines. While Zareth and his colleagues were generally too valuable to risk sending off to war, there were plenty of ways for their respective faiths to help out.

That was most evident by how the Conclave’s influence was aiding Tal’Qamar’s enemies on the battlefield.

Zareth’s mood darkened as he read through reports detailing how the worshipers of Sarqalim, God of the Twilight Moon, allowed squads of saboteurs to sneak into a heavily patrolled camp during the night. Meanwhile, Rayya, Goddess of Oases, dried up sources of water that the military had intended to rely on while Yaqin, Goddess of the Hearth, caused their encampments to become dangerously cold at night.

To his surprise, Tal’Qamar’s military had actually held up against these schemes quite well. They were highly experienced at dealing with unusual situations, having fought across a variety of different terrains and adversaries across the years. Not only were their soldiers experienced veterans of war, but they were also notably higher leveled than those of their enemies on average.

All of this combined meant that Tal’Qamar still held the edge in the war, despite being outnumbered and dealing with the Conclave’s interference.

However, that advantage wouldn’t last forever if something wasn’t done. As he read through more of the reports and listened to the Garrison-Commander speak, it became evident that Tal’Qamar’s advantage was being steadily eroded.

“I’ve never known the Conclave’s gods to be this active before,” Farida said, once Tholin finished his initial briefing of the situation.

“Aye. Most wars don’t involve so much meddling from the divine,” Tholin said, his sharp eyes fixed on the map. “Our [Strategists] expect it to intensify. The Conclave’s gods are going to do everything they can to sink their claws back into Tal’Qamar.”

That was no surprise given Tal’Qamar’s was one of the most important cities in the region. If it was allowed to fall to foreign gods, then the Conclave would always be at risk of being pushed out of the Qahtani Desert completely.

“What exactly would you have us do, Garrison-Commander?” said Borak, his deep voice resounding in the room for the first time since the meeting began.

“Whatever’s necessary to win this campaign,” Tholin responded immediately, gaze sweeping through them before landing on Zareth. “This one here’s a good example. Aside from dealing with those gods damned traitors and [Assassins], he’s been using those abilities of his to give an edge to any soldier we send him. More than a few of our new recruits managed to survive their first battles thanks to those hardened scales around their vital points. We need more of that."

Zareth felt a touch of pride at the acknowledgement. The augmentations that he’d been offering High Command were relatively basic and far from what he now had at his disposal. Higher Stats, [Precise Flesh Perception], and Meldorath’s Heart meant that there was so much more that he could accomplish.

Soldiers with heat-resistant skin, claws that discharge sparks of electricity, pack animals that could travel farther with less water. He’d even begun designing standardized templates of different augmentations, so that High Command could more easily incorporate enhanced soldiers into their strategies.

There would need to be some on-the-field testing, but he was particularly optimistic about his Quillhare Warrior design.

If High Command wanted him to focus more on improving their soldiers, he was more than willing to oblige. The more valuable he and his cult were to the city, the less pushback he would receive when attempting to consolidate power.

Besides, the military would be the perfect testing ground for some of his more exotic ideas. He’d spent some of his free time renovating the spire’s dungeon into a suitable laboratory for experiments, but nothing surpassed actual combat.

“I’m prepared to offer more advanced augmentations,” Zareth said enthusiastically. “While the initial changes I made were basic, designed for easy application to most soldiers, I’m ready to begin making more individualized and potent changes. My cult has also welcomed several new [Cultists] who I’ve been training, and will be ready to assist soon.”

He saw no problem with offering the services of his followers. Having them assist the military would help them level much faster than normal.

“Not all of our faiths have such obvious military applications,” said Kinta, her voice soft and calm as she spoke. “The Order of the Serene Guide can provide solace and mental healing for your soldiers, but I’m afraid our Order has always viewed violence as a last resort. It is not our way to participate in a war.”

Garrison-Commander Tholin let out a snort as he turned an unimpressed gaze toward the monk. “If you have any wish to spread your Order’s reach to this city, then I suggest you change your way sooner rather than later, lass. Your kind might not be from around here, but I know what you’re capable of. Those who aren’t willing to fight for Tal’Qamar don’t deserve its protection.”

Zareth turned a curious gaze toward Kinta. He didn’t know much about the monk or her religion, aside from them being the only other new faith less established in Tal’Qamar than his own. The Order of the Serene Guide seemed to specialize in influencing the mental and emotional states of others, which they primarily used as a means of healing.

However, he could very easily see how such abilities could be used for much darker means…

“That applies to the rest of you as well,” said Garrison-Commander Tholin as his eyes swept through the room, momentarily turning flinty when they passed Kassan. “Tal’Qamar needs more from you lot than just your Boons if we’re to win this war, so I suggest you start thinking about what you have to offer. Especially if you’ve any plans to take part in the spoils of war when all is said and done.”

Zareth’s mood had already been lifted after he realized that High Command seemed to have a good opinion of his cult compared to his colleagues, but that last part was the cherry on the top.

“Spoils of war?” Zareth repeated, leaning forward in his seat as excitement bubbled inside of him. “What specifically are you referring to, Garrison-Commander?”

“Ah, now I have your full attention, don’t I?” Tholin said as his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Tal’Qamar rewards those who fight for her. Depending on your contributions to the war effort, we have several rewards in mind, such as gold, artifacts… or even conquered land.”

If Zareth was the most eager one before, that changed instantly once Tholin mentioned land. Both Farida and Borak perked up immediately, their eyes flashing with interest that was more intense than he’d ever seen from them. Even Rizok, for some reason, seemed to be staring at Tholin with an extraordinary degree of focus.

“Land?” Borak murmured, gaze locked firmly on the Garrison-Command. “Then does that mean High Command intends to change Tal’Qamar’s structure of governance? The [Merchant Lords] never allowed anyone other than themselves to own territory. It was my assumption that General Nasrith would continue that tradition.”

“He will not,” Tholin said decisively. “The Conclave never had any reason to push for Tal’Qamar’s expansion, given that their gods are already worshiped from here to the Western Divide, and none of the [Merchant Lords] wanted to suffer the disruption to trade that would come from a war. We aren’t so weak-willed. We intend to keep every inch of land we’ve bled for, and we will need trusted people to administer those lands.”

A stunned silence immediately filled the room, with Borak and Farida the most affected by Tholin’s words. It wasn’t difficult to see why, as both the Desharin and the ogres in particular stood to benefit immensely if Tal’Qamar rose from being a city-state to a more feudal nation where they could potentially govern their own lands.

Zareth turned his attention to the map and began to study the land Tal’Qamar stood to conquer during this war.

While the larger city-states like Fal’Ashar, Jalasa, and Anket would almost certainly be administered directly by High Command or distributed to one of the Great Houses, there were also several smaller settlements in Tal’Qamar’s path. That was especially true the farther south you traveled, with water sources more common the closer you drew to the Sapphire Sea.

If the war went well, then High Command would have more than enough territory that they could afford to distribute some of it to Zareth and his colleagues. For them, land meant people to convert, steady revenue streams in the form of natural resources, and increased influence in Tal’Qamar’s politics. They could even potentially gain access to new Classes, as there were some like [Count] or [Duke] that required authority over populated land before they could be acquired!

Not only did this serve as motivation for them to help the war effort as much as possible, but it could also potentially lessen some of the tensions that existed in the city. It was honestly a rather good move for General Nasrith to make this offer, instead of attempting to keep everything for himself.

“The adherents of Silvaris know this desert better than anyone,” said Farida, her typical poor temper overshadowed by her enthusiasm. “I have several high leveled individuals who could easily assist your soldiers in bypassing the Living Sands and attacking from unexpected directions. They could even travel deep behind enemy lines.”

“Those who follow the precepts of Gendal are more than capable of holding their own on a battlefield,” Borak said confidently, his expression thoughtful as he studied the map. “I would normally hesitate to summon the spirits of the ancestors for war, but this is too great an opportunity to ignore.”

Kinta hesitated for a moment before releasing a resigned sigh and speaking. “Though we prefer peace, our Order understands the need for self-defense. There are few among those who have joined our temple in this city who are capable of much… but I could perhaps ask for aid from the more established monasteries. While they would have little interest in direct combat, they could raise the morale of your troops… and diminish those of your enemies.”

“There are few better than Ghisara’s chosen who are better at hiding secrets, or discovering them,” Kassan said with a slight smile, eyes briefly locking with Zareth’s before turning back to the Garrison-Commander. “Your [Strategists] would benefit greatly from the information we can provide. We can also secure your camps against any spies or saboteurs.”

”I wonder how you, an expert at uncovering secrets, failed to find the Conclave’s operatives in the city,” Zareth couldn’t help but say, shooting Kassan a disdainful glare. “It’s a shame ‘Ghisara’s chosen’ can’t be trusted with those secrets.”

Kassan’s expression turned frosty, his eyes narrowing in Zareth’s direction. “I suggest that you cease your unwarranted accusations before you regret them, Cultist Zareth. If you believe that the small successes you’ve had since gaining a position of power by pure luck mean anything, you’re deeply mistaken.”

Garrison-Commander Tholin slammed a fist down on the table, causing many of the marks of the map to go flying. “Enough! I might not be able to stop you fools from burrowing knives in each other's backs on your own time, but I’ll have none of it here.”

Zareth and Kassan glowered at each other for several more moments, but eventually relented under Garrison-Commander’s glare. Zareth had no doubt that he would need to continue keeping a close eye on the naga, but right now he had other things to focus on.

“Good. Now if you’re done bickering, there are still many details to discuss,” Tholin said, his stern gaze settling back on the map.

After one of the adjutants set the displaced markers back into their proper position, Garrison-Commander Tholin spent the next hour discussing the logistics of the upcoming campaign. All the while, Zareth’s mind raced with thoughts of how he could further cement his position in Tal’Qamar and the potential rewards that awaited him if he played his cards right.