Two days passed quickly. During this time, Morgan personally showed Boulder around the estate. Since the Grandmaster would remain at the manor until the project was complete, it was only natural for him to become familiar with the people and layout around him. Neither man knew how long the work would take, months, years, or perhaps decades, so Morgan spared no effort in ensuring his guest was comfortable.
Strangely, Boulder never once asked to see the sealed chamber during those two days. It wasn't because Morgan was unwilling to take him there; on the contrary, he had expected the Grandmaster to demand access immediately. Instead, Boulder insisted on waiting, claiming he needed time to prepare himself mentally. At first, Morgan found the request absurd, but after the binding oath they had sworn, he had little reason to object.
Eventually, the third morning arrived, and Boulder finally requested to see the project.
The two men stood inside the sealed chamber. Unlike the polished halls of the manor above, the room carried a cold, sterile atmosphere. Strange instruments lined the walls, and a massive platform at the center of the floor dominated the space. Boulder slowly walked around the chamber, occasionally nodding or frowning. His eyes lingered on various pieces of equipment, examining every detail with the patience of a craftsman inspecting another's work.
After several minutes, he finally spoke.
"How many failures have you had since starting this project?"
Morgan wasn't surprised by the question. The moment the oath was complete, he had explained the project in full. Boulder's reaction had been interesting: shock first, then disbelief, followed by excitement. As a Grandmaster Forger, he had spent his entire life pursuing knowledge. Ordinary projects no longer interested him, but this one was different. The project bordered on madness, challenging principles that countless experts considered impossible. It was dangerous and forbidden, which made it irresistible to Boulder.
Morgan folded his arms behind his back.
"Fifty-three."
Boulder looked toward him.
"Subjects?"
Morgan nodded.
"Fifty-three bodies buried. One survivor."
The answer didn't seem to surprise the Grandmaster; if anything, he appeared to have expected even higher numbers.
"Bring me the survivor."
Morgan motioned toward a nearby servant, who immediately bowed and hurried out of the room. Several minutes later, a bed was wheeled into the chamber. The moment Boulder saw the figure lying upon it, his expression turned serious.
The man barely resembled a human anymore. Twisted horns had emerged from various parts of his skull, and jagged protrusions pushed against his skin. Bones sat in unnatural positions beneath flesh that seemed incapable of deciding what shape it wanted to take. Beneath his skin, muscles writhed continuously like living worms trapped inside a sack. Despite everything, the man was still breathing.
Boulder approached the bed without hesitation as a pair of black gloves materialized around his hands. He began his examination, his fingers moving across the subject's neck, chest, arms, and face. He inspected every abnormality carefully before producing a thin syringe and extracting a sample of blood. The room remained silent as he studied the crimson liquid.
Finally, he nodded.
"Not bad. For someone attempting this without a Grandmaster's assistance, you've done remarkably well."
Boulder glanced toward the distorted figure.
"Unfortunately, he's finished. The mutations have progressed too far. Even if we stopped everything right now, he wouldn't survive another two days."
Morgan had already reached the same conclusion. A small needle of ice formed between his fingers. The subject noticed it, and for the first time since entering the room, his clouded eyes focused properly. There was no fear within them, only exhaustion.
Morgan flicked his finger. The needle shot forward, piercing the man's forehead. Frost spread rapidly across his skin, stopping his struggles and his breathing. As the ice finally covered his face, the expression left behind wasn't terror, but relief.
The servant wheeled the body away shortly afterward while Boulder watched silently until the corpse disappeared through the door.
"You've made progress," Boulder admitted.
Morgan allowed himself a slight smile.
"This subject survived longer than the others."
"Considerably longer."
Boulder removed his gloves.
"You truly are the Vonte family's greatest talent."
Morgan didn't respond to the praise. Instead, Boulder asked the question that had bothered him since their first discussion.
"Where did you obtain the inheritance?"
Morgan looked at him, and Boulder continued.
"I've studied countless records throughout my life: ancient forgers, ancient alchemists, and ancient cultivators. I've never encountered anything resembling this."
Morgan smiled.
"I suppose you could say a piece of pie fell onto my doorstep."
"And you picked it up," Boulder noted.
"Naturally."
The Grandmaster chuckled. The answer told him absolutely nothing, but he understood the message. Morgan wasn't interested in discussing the origin of the inheritance. As long as it didn't interfere with the project, Boulder had no intention of pressing further.
He rubbed a ring on his finger, and a small metallic cube appeared in his hand. Without explanation, he tossed it toward the platform. The cube landed softly before unfolding into several interconnected segments that attached themselves around the structure, filling the room with a faint hum.
"The stabilization should improve," Boulder said.
Morgan observed the device with interest.
"And the results?"
"They should remain alive longer."
That was all Morgan needed to hear.
Boulder stepped closer to the platform.
"If possible, I'd like to observe the process directly. Reading records is useful, but witnessing it myself would be far better."
Morgan had already anticipated the request. Almost immediately, another servant entered the chamber pushing a second bed. Unlike the previous subject, this one still looked human, a bare-chested man lying unconscious.
Boulder approached him, placing two fingers against the man's forehead before frowning.
"Unawakened?"
Morgan nodded.
The Grandmaster turned toward him.
"Please don't tell me you lacked access to awakened individuals."
"I tried," Morgan answered immediately. "Those with awakened abilities possess stronger physiques, but the process kills them almost instantly."
He paused, his gaze briefly settling on the unconscious man.
"These people survive longer. And more importantly, the true subject belongs among them."
Boulder caught the subtle meaning: there was someone else, someone important whom Morgan had no intention of risking until the process was perfected.
The Grandmaster didn't ask further questions as the unconscious man was carefully transferred onto the platform. The moment he was secured in place, metallic wires emerged from every direction, moving like living serpents. They coiled and twisted before piercing into the man's flesh.
The unconscious subject jolted violently as a scream erupted from his throat, his eyes snapping open. Ancient symbols across the platform suddenly illuminated one after another, filling the chamber with an eerie glow.
Boulder instinctively stepped closer, surprise appearing on his face for the first time since entering the room. He stared at the platform, the wires, and the man screaming in agony.
"Morgan," he said slowly.
Morgan never looked away from the experiment.
"Yes?"
The Grandmaster's eyes remained fixed on the unfolding process.
"This is far worse than I expected."
The glow intensified.
Neither man spoke again as the screams continued to echo throughout the chamber.