'Each one of them seems to have a drawback. At this point they can't be called mystic constructs, but rather cursed constructs... Maybe that will be their name. C.C for cursed constructs. And I can number them and write a description of each of their powers. That would make it a lot easier to manage and distribute them when needed.'
Placing down the dagger on his desk, Kharon carefully reached out as he placed his finger onto the dark hilt. He felt his strength being stolen as his arm began to thin. The light-headedness returned as he moved his finger.
'It seems like this construct constantly drains the user's blood. A prerequisite to use the power of the construct. I wonder if the others act similarly. But if my theory is correct, then that would mean that the higher the tier, the less of an effect it has. It sounds simple but it would make sense as to why the grimoire said they were unusable. As a tier 5, I didn't have enough aether and my body was definitely not developed enough to handle losing blood constantly.'
The dagger began to float once again as Kharon picked out a few more constructs. They varied from rings, to seemingly normal household items.
'A vase... I am guessing it must be used for sealing. It would be better if I avoided contact as much as possible. I should be busy making a plan for tomorrow, but here I am. Sorting through old items. It would be better for me to do this now. Once my ritual preparations begin, finding a moment of rest would be quite difficult. Let alone finding time to catalogue these.'
Kharon picked up the dagger as he sent a stream of aether through. The scenery before him began to shift as the walls widened and turned darker. The windows and doors blended into the mix as his light vanished. As he looked around, all he could see was darkness. But as he walked further into the shadows, he noticed a warm light.
Standing in the middle of the cave, was a man. His arms were littered with scars and blood. In his hand, was the crimson dagger. Stepping closer, Kharon saw someone standing in front of the man. He was tied to a post and stripped of clothing save for a little loincloth. His body was riddled in fresh wounds as he murmured something through bloody tears.
'Was he being tortured? I knew this dagger must be from the path of depravity. Or the path of chaos. It was used for something this dark...?'
The crimson dagger began emitting a faint, red hue. It slowly expanded as the tied up man began to scream in agony. Blood slowly dripped onto the cool, rigid, cave floor. The puddle slowly flowed towards Kharon as he looked down at it.
'This is rather sickening... I need to complete this quickly.'
As he thought of this, the scene before him sped up as he watched the torturer laughing in ecstasy. Kharon drowned out his sick monologue as he saw the second ability. The torturer bent down as all the blood began to be drawn in towards the dagger. It absorbed everything as the cave floor was left looking spotless.
'Blood absorption. Interesting ability. The final ability, if there is one should utilise the blood.'
Just on cue, the torturer raised the dagger above his head as blood began to pour from it. However, the viscous liquid never touched the ground. It stayed suspended in the air as it parted before solidifying into smaller, crescent blades.
They began to spin around the torturer as one flew straight into his prisoner's shoulder. A loud scream followed as the blades violently jerked from his body and flew back at him. Kharon felt his legs turning weak as the nauseating sounds and smells made their way to him. The torturer smiled as he suddenly sliced off his arm without a sound.
In the next moment, before Kharon could even react to this, blood began flowing from the blade once more. But this time, it flew into the torturer's severed arm. His limp hand on the ground shot up as it reconnected back with the whole. The prisoner's red eyes looked blankly at this as the torturer approached.
The blade was plunged into the prisoner's abdomen. But as the prisoner screamed, he noticed something odd. His blood began to flow back into him as his red skin regained some colour. His wounds closed up as he looked at the torturer with wide eyes. His mouth opened wide as he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Nooooooo!"
Kharon dispelled the memory as he reappeared in his dark room. The blade was tossed onto his desk with an unceremonious clank. Kharon looked at the scattered constructs on the ground. Their varying colours calling out to him. As he reached for one of them, he said groggily, "This will be a long day."
...
After hours of careful testing with the help of a few aether enhancing dishes, Kharon had managed to catalogue all the cursed constructs.
'They all have names and numbers, but I need to write down their abilities and weaknesses somewhere. A flawless memory won't be very useful if I am not here to explain their abilities and drawbacks. Well, it's not like I have to test them. Just a bit of writing.'
As Kharon sat down in his workshop, he pulled out a few fresh parchments. He pulled out his pen as he began writing very descriptive explanations of each cursed construct. His body moved rapidly as he completed each file in seconds. As he sped up, his body seemed to turn static. However the growing pile of documents said otherwise.
The smell of ink permeated the workshop as Kharon wrote down the last few files. He categorised their paths and numbers as he placed them within folders. As he picked them up, his lips curled up as he looked at them.
'Not too bad if I do say so myself... I definitely need to rest before tomorrow. Would a mask...? No I am trying to gain trust, not stir suspicion. I guess simple, formal attire will do the trick. If I look more refined maybe they will trust me. Or maybe they will think I am a noble trying to trick them. The treatment of people by those of higher status has never been good, has it?'
Kharon sighed as he walked out of his workshop. The door slowly swung shut as it vanished. As he ascended the stairs, Kharon heard the sound of footsteps.
'It must be Philip. It must already be the end of the day.'
As the footsteps got closer, Kharon called out, "Is that you Philip? Welcome back."
Hearing his voice, the footsteps quickened. Coming from the corner of the stairs was Philip wearing his simple, light blue uniform. Kharon gave it a quick glance before handing him the files.
"These are documents on the cursed constructs I found in the mausoleum. I don't think I informed you about them yesterday. But I took twenty constructs when I was returning from the mausoleum."
"Cursed constructs? Twenty of them?!"
Philip began flipping through all the files as his eyes moved in all directions. He closed the final document as he handed them back to Kharon.
"They really are cursed. With drawbacks like those, they can't really be called mystic. At least you have come up with clever combinations. We can also create new devices to mitigate the negative effects. But that will have to wait. While returning from work, I came up with a few plans for tomorrow."
"And what are they?"
"You can start a small, free performance in a secluded area. When you showcase your abilities, you can start by sharing the fact that there was once a mysterious God. That God gave you your powers but is waiting for the right moment to come back into the spotlight. If we mix a few facts with a bit of exaggeration, it should work."
Kharon nodded along as Philip continued, "After that, you will make it known that you wield the path of mysteries. The ritual never specified how many different facts you could reveal. The ritual's success rate may be low because previous wielders didn't use enough ancient facts."
"This is a tier 3 ritual. Not everyone who attempts one would be able to succeed. Even if they carry out the ritual perfectly, you need to have a strong enough will. Whether it is the will to survive or to make great change in the world. That is my current interpretation of the arcane paths. A way to pave your future using the powers you received."
Philip crossed his arms as he faced up. He closed his eyes as he sighed before asking, "Is that a conclusion you came up with on your own?"
"Of course it is. You should have a little more trust in me."
Kharon continued up the stairs as Philip watched him go. He turned around as he saw Philip smiling at him wistfully.
"What?"
"I do trust you. But I hope you trust yourself as well."