Despite their few numbers, the Sil'piceus ruled as the undisputed masters of this primitive world, and nothing could stand in their way. When they encountered resistance or needed something, their immense power enabled them to effortlessly take whatever they wished.
An example of this was the creation of the second blood lake. As the number of defined runes in their possession grew, their demand for blood became unsustainable for this dwindling species. Something had to be done, and somehow, more blood had to be produced.
This led to much talk and discussion, and some violence, but ultimately it was decided that they organize Great Hunts throughout the world and bring back the blood of their prey to make up for this blood shortage. However, this was highly contentious, as many believed that tainting the Great Rune by giving it inferior prey's blood would be blasphemy, and were ready to kill whoever tried to commit such a sin.
It was a tumultuous time, and without the Elder to calm everyone down, it was the Priestess that finally came forward with a compromise, to build a second separate blood pool to house the inferior blood. The Mystery would still be fed pure Sil'piceus blood, but the inferior runes did not deserve such honor, and would have to be content with their prey.
This compromise still did not please everybody, but she was backed by the overwhelmingly powerful Owner, so her proposition was finally accepted. The Sil'piceus had once again barely avoided a civil war, and as soon as the second blood pool was built, they took out their anger and dissatisfaction on the rest of the world. Especially when they realized that by overfeeding the defined rune, they provoked a feedback that further strengthened the Mystery, their aggression knew no limit.
Tides of blood washed the world, leaving a devastated landscape behind, to the point where strict rules had to be established to avoid creating a barren world where not a single prey still lived. Over the years, their victims did not number in the thousands or millions, but in billions or trillions. from the smallest insect to the largest behemoth, none were safe, and none were spared.
Sometimes, being killed would even have been a mercy for the unfortunate animals, as some were captured and experimented upon, forced to give up blood everyday and force-fed disgusting nutrients designed for nothing more than to produce more and more blood.
The Great Blessing had done nothing but aggravate things further, as it removed any limitation of lifespan or any question about whether or not they were on the right path. The Heavens had approved them, so naturally everything was inferior to them, and everything belonged to them.
Even a terrifying pandemic was ultimately no threat to this powerful species. The twin blood lakes were far from sanitary, and countless world-devouring plagues and viruses thrived in it, but with their runic healing power, the Sil'piceus were unaffected.
This did not stop the problem steadily getting worse, as while the Mystery kept them in peak condition, it never actually took the initiative to kill any of the harmless viruses, no matter how they mutated and grew. One day, under the constant proximity with supernatural power, a particular parasitic leech managed to evolve, learning to infect the Sil'piceus without triggering any of their natural or mystical defenses.
With the incredibly favorable environment, the parasite multiplied at an incredible rate. In little more than a month, most of the blood kin's population was infected, each of them sometimes hosting hundreds or thousands of these hyper aggressive parasites on their bodies.
The simple body of the shelled octopus were warped beyond belief, transforming into an incoherent mass of writhing flesh. It was not as simple as a physical transformation either, as their body became a battlefield, Animated by thousands of hostile consciousness, each vying for ultimate control.
Before the Sil'piceus could even understand what was happening, they had become almost unrecognizable. Even the Great Rune changed with them, faithfully reflecting their current state.
This terrifying plague would have spelled the end of any other civilisation, but the Sil'piceus were largely unaffected. They were not ordinary beasts, they were accomplished martial artists that had long gained complete control over their body. There was only one result awaiting those bloodsuckers foolish enough to invade their sacred flesh, and that was to be assimilated and live forever more as a mere puppet, under the suppression of their personal rune.
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Even the collision of countless separate minds inhabiting the same body, which would have driven any lesser creature mad, was of no consequence. They were already very familiar with having sub-brains assisting the main one, and their unwavering will was protected by the Great Rune. This was just a matter of establishing a proper hierarchy, and they would be able to multiply their thinking speed and processing power.
In the end, the Mystery had been right, the parasite was no threat, but rather a boon. They gained in intelligence, strength and number of limbs, and the only cost was beauty. It did ruin their camouflage ability, but that skill was way past relevant at that point, especially now that prey would be rendered mad or even die whenever looking at their incoherent form. The Sil'piceus cultivated both their body and spirit, and the contrast with a single unified body hosting thousands of separated minds, all of which exuded a fearsome spiritual pressure, acted like a passive mental attack that could easily prove to be deadly to the simple-minded.
Population became even less of a concern after this, because with a single thought, a single Sil'piceus could separate himself into hundreds or thousands of different creatures, able to act independently, capable of using a portion of their powers to execute their will from the other side of the planet. They were not a single creature anymore, they were one entity composed of many.
Even their survivability skyrocketed, because even if the main body died, as long as a single parasite under their control survived, they would be able to use it as a backup and recultivate to their full power.
There had been some apprehension at first, but the parasites were too aggressive, and they had infected them before they realized the danger. In fact, the only reason the parasite had not infected the entire world was that it was too powerful, and normal animals would simply die before it had time to spread. It was only after the Sil’piceus truly realized the benefits, that they all accepted the parasite and even started to actively breed them and help them grow. It was yet another gift from the Great Rune, and further proof that everything in the world existed to serve them.
The only exception was the Elder and his companions, seemingly frozen in time. Despite their voracious nature, not a single parasite was ever seen on the stone platform. Perhaps this was another effect of the curse, or perhaps this was because they were so close to the Great Rune, no one knew. They only knew that this was a relic of the past, and the stone platform became a place of remembrance, serving to remind themselves of who they used to be and how much they had advanced. And just above them, was the Great Rune, hovering in the air as a symbol of eternity, and as a reminder of their ambition.
The Great Work was the most important project the Sil'piceus had ever undertook. Not only in scale or magnitude, or in the world-changing outcome, but in the fact it gave them a common goal to focus on. As the Sil'piceus grew in power and intelligence, disagreements became more and more frequent, and they had teetered on the edge of a civil war multiple times. Small scale fights and duels had become common, but that was not a significant concern, since at this point it was almost impossible to permanently damage these nigh-immortal creatures.
However, if their civilisation was ever truly divided, perhaps separating into two enemy countries with opposing goals, or anything similar, then it would be hard to imagine another conclusion to such a war other than mutual destruction. This was why the Great Work was so important, and no leader had ever opposed it despite the casualties it had caused. It was their unifying goal which held their civilization together.
Even now, as the progress on the Great Work was slowing down, hampered by the inaccessibility and hidden nature of the last few runes to gather, their motivation had not in the least dwindled. Everyone could tell that gathering the three thousand runes would bring an immeasurable leap in their power, and many theorized they would become gods, immortal and eternal.
This was their ultimate dream, and they would not let any petty squabbles or disagreements get in the way. The day was not far when they would become gods, and they would not stop there.
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Meanwhile, on the edge of the larger blood lake, an insignificant mosquito-like creature was about to change the fate of the world.
It had lived here for all of its life, and had gorged itself in so much high quality blood that a small golden drop of radiant blood had slowly condensed in its heart. It had started to form decades ago, but it had had no effect apart from siphoning a little blood each time the mosquito ate. The insect didn't even know it existed, having barely noticed an increase in his appetite.
It was only now that it had reached a certain point, that the golden drop abruptly started to shine brightly, and all the blood in the mosquitoes body began to boil, heralding the start of a complete physical transformation. Simultaneously, millennia of ancestral memories poured into the insect's tiny brain, flooding it with knowledge dating back to the creation of the world. Unable to withstand so much information, the beast froze mid-flight and fell straight down into the blood lake.