Fleshcrafting Technomancer

Chapter 46: The Misfortunes of Wealth (Part 1)


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Following her transformation into a hellhound, Lena's human form experienced drastic changes. On top of flawless six-packs, a perfectly toned body, larger breasts, and a more luscious figure, her body now emitted a feral scent able to trigger the arousal of the feeble-minded.

At first, Kilian didn't pay her much attention, giving her the same treatment as every single one of his nanobot-controlled fehl shifters. But after producing the serum, and returning the 3,000 shifters to sanity, a hierarchy soon rose from their ranks. Although in terms of pure destructive strength, the fehl monsters stood on similar levels, their intelligence ultimately differed. And while the transformation sharpened their senses, it also deepened their initial disparities.

Of the batch of 3,000 shifters, Lena soon proved herself as one of the most competent, with devious cunning and leadership skills enabling her to subdue most of her peers. She also excelled at the fehl magic classes Kilian had Jezebel provide to strengthen the faction, and already was a top-level Lesser Emissary. Of course, such progress didn't have a significant impact on her overall strength—yet.

Better, her bellicose tendencies seemed to have grown more focused, only appearing in specific circumstances. For all those factors, Kilian made her Sheriff of Ostria, the highest position of the knyaz, his secret police composed uniquely of fehl shifters.

If the venandi and the boyars represented Kilian's main army and mightiest destructive forces, with the power to arbitrarily investigate and sentence any threat to Ostria, noble or not, the knyaz handled the more subtle side of Ostria's law enforcement. Across those past 3.5 months, more than one belligerent noble found himself vanishing from the face of Ostria, never to be found again.

But while Lena theoretically reported to him, Kilian often had Olaf act as the intermediary while he focused on other matters.

"Gr-greetings, lord justiciar. We have a situation I'm afraid cannot be solved by pure violence." Though startled by Jezebel's ambiguous position on top of Kilian, Lena didn't lose decorum and spoke with a polite bow.

One of the first things Kilian had Olaf do was to publically take him as his twilight child, and create him Lord Justiciar—the supreme administrator of justice across Ostria. Although the methods differed, the move was very similar to how six years ago, Klaus forced King Erik to surrender him half his judiciary powers. In fact, in recent years, Klaus fully took control of the justice department.

"Oh? You mean the gathering of dukes and marquises?" Kilian nonchalantly asked. From his goddesses, saintesses and other information channels, he'd already gained an accurate picture of the brewing resentment within Orloth's high nobility. And seeing that Kilian was already aware of the situation, Lena didn't delay.

"Indeed, as your excellency knows, for the past three months, the resentment of Orloth's high nobility has been skyrocketing. Though at first, they managed to keep a semblance of composure, the months spent in the company of the angels, saintesses, and goddesses, made them increasingly more restless," Lena pursued. Even before the Celestial Garden officially opened its doors, Kilian had no doubt in its success. But for the same reason, he didn't attempt to scale up to the Arcadian Empire. The reason was beauty.

Exotic drugs, beverages, and mind-blowing games aside, the true appeal of the Celestial Garden lay in the otherworldly beauty of its girls. Even for those noblemen that'd seen all kinds of beauties, they simply were irresistible. The goddesses, in particular, could snatch the souls of any one of those conceited aristocrats with a single smile.

In fact, although they still fell a bit short, Kilian used Jezebel as the template for the goddesses. However, too much was as bad as not enough, and it wouldn't take a genius to realize that those girls had been remodeled into their current images of celestial perfection. Naturally bred humans simply couldn't possess such appeal. Even the best Flesh Sculptors of the empire couldn't individually accomplish this.

And naturally, those high ranking nobles couldn't believe that a mere Olaf possessed the resources to accomplish such a project—unless of course he obtained the assistance of some extraordinary biomancer backed by hundreds of Flesh Sculptors. This was the only explanation they could come up with, a thought that filled them all with envy.

At the end of the day, though decades of tyrannical rule enabled him to amass wealth surpassing the average count, as a viscount, Olaf still was lesser nobility. Worse, his own strength was limited to low-level Core Emissary.

How could those high-ranking nobles endure the thought of losing themselves in the arms of his possession? Of becoming the whales he made millions of? No, either they took the Celestial Garden from him, or they seized the means to create their own!

"Now, with the stance of an admonishing elder, the Duke of Verden is leading a coalition of five dukes and 12 marquises, demanding the appearance of the viscount. Undoubtedly, they plan to force the secrets out of his lips." Ralph von Verden, the Duke of Verden, was the head of house von Verden, an 82 years old top-level High Emissary, and Olaf's uncle.

In Orloth's ducal circles, he ranked at the very top, and even King Erik would treat him with courtesy. After reaching the limits of the High Emissary rank at the age of 65, he realized he could never take another step forward in this life, and like many others, chose to abandon himself to the pursuit of sensual pleasures.

While the number of counts and below varied, Orloth possessed a fixed land division of 18 dukedoms and 36 marquisates with their rulers directly under the authority of the king. Counts, viscounts, and barons, however, tended to be subordinate to a higher-ranked noble. Ralph was not merely head of the house, but Olaf's direct superior. For him to personally lead the coalition clearly showed their intent to strip Olaf of the Celestial Garden and his gains.

"To think that I'd get about one-third of Orloth's high nobility to deliver themselves to my doorsteps. The misfortunes of great wealth," Kilian sighed. Those below High Emissary level couldn't resist Kilian's spiders. Above, however, the lv. 1 nano-spiders lost their function. A low-level High Emissary only had a 50% chance of succumbing. Beyond that, the lv. 1 spiders could no longer affect them.

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As for the lv. 2 blueprint, due to his many expenditures in the 3.5 months, Kilian only had 631 kp left. An insufficient sum.

"They cockblocked me. Those people have to die," Jezebel declared in a non-negotiable tone, making Kilian arch an eyebrow, and Lena blink in disbelief. In those last months, Kilian no longer concealed the fact that he wasn't Lukas, and openly had Olaf change his name to Kilian zu Verden. At the same time, the high-ranking members of the knyaz became aware of the existence of Jezebel, his "closet wife" as they called her.

Although Lena heard many rumors, she'd never expected the woman to be so shameless!

"I think that's my line...but nevermind, though they do deserve to die, five dukes and 12 marquises perish in Ostria, and it's the king's 500,000 men strong army that we'll have to worry about. Assuming we triumph, next is the Duke of Kars, his 350,000 men strong elite army, and the 270,000 templars and magi of the Blood Rose.

Are you going to kill them for me?" Kilian straightforwardly asked. Jezebel's strength may be deeper than what he could assess, but the higher her fehl rank, the more restrictions, and backlashes she would face.

Wiping out such forces would, at the very least, leave her severely weakened, and for what?

However, as if oblivious to Lena's presence, Jezebel cupped Kilian's cheeks in her silky hands, her lips curved into a smile, and she replied:

"If you ask nicely, why not?"

Having not expected such a reply, for an instant, Kilian paused and simply stared into Jezebel's amethyst eyes. And feeling the tension rise, Lena wondered if she shouldn't quietly sneak out.

"True words?" Kilian challenged in his usual calm tone.

"But of course. My little Lothario, as long as we're dealing with serious matters, if you fight, I will be the sword. If you retreat, I will be the shield. If there is no road ahead, I will open one for you," Jezebel pledged in a rare, serious tone.

An imperceptible ripple flashed in Kilian's gaze, and he shook his head.

"Nonsense." The word had barely left Kilian's lips that his crimson eye, the Eye of Distortion, opened. A dark-purple space vortex appeared beneath Kilian, swallowing him into another dimension. Not giving Jezebel the time to follow, the rift closed after him. But as it did, Kilian's voice echoed, "Beautiful, if I still need you to do that, how can I call myself a man?"

The space distortion vanished, leaving Jezebel and Lena alone in the room.

"Did he blush?! Did he blush?! Aaaaaaah!" Jezebel clutched her cheeks and squealed in a fangirl frenzy. Alas, she didn't spend five seconds in that state that Lena broke her glee.

"I don't think that his excellency can blush."

The words brought Jezebel back to earth, and she dropped onto the bed. But now that Kilian no longer stood before her, she couldn't help but wonder why such words ever left her lips.

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