Location: < A pit cell within 'Uggrock's Den' > - One of many caverns found throughout the upper stratums of the netherworld.

POV.: Nameless silver-haired demon larva.

With a fervent curiosity, I unfurled the scrolls, their parchment crackling with the promise of knowledge. The 'Practitioners' Servitude Art' as the succubus and Uggrock had called it or the 'Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique' as both scrolls were titled, revealed itself through intricate symbols which I somehow understood.

The very essence of the art, as described in the runes, spoke of a transformative process: absorbing the ambient aether, a swirling blend of unrefined magical energies, and refining it into Qi—an ethereal force used to fortify one's strength.

As I glanced over them, I couldn't help but notice a significant difference between the scrolls gifted to me. The Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique scroll provided by the succubus held a wealth of extra information and tips content compared to the meagre offerings of the demon larva's version.

However, for all but instruction the two scrolls seemed to be mostly the same when it came to key information. So I decided to read over them in detail the Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique to memory.

After around five minutes had gone by as I read the scrolls a peculiar revelation seized my attention when I had placed the pulsating core beside the arcane scriptures. Since to my astonishment, the scrolls had absorbed some of the core's energy. And as the small surge of energy coursed through them they somehow transferred their knowledge directly into my mind, immensely speeding up the process.

With newfound insights swirling through my head, I decided to try it out. Following the scrolls' meticulous instructions, I assumed a cross-legged posture.

Rather than close my eyes as the scroll I had gotten from the dead demon larva had instructed, I kept my eyes wide open since the succubus's scroll mentioned that demon eyes had an inherent ability to perceive aether, provided one honed the skill through practice.

In the dimly lit pit, I focused my gaze on the unseen currents of ambient aether. In my imagination air around me seemed to shimmer with untapped potential, and I delved into the art of sensing the magical energies that were all around me.

Soon my attention was drawn to the demon larva's core. Since as I scrutinized the core trying to see the unseen currents of ambient aether, I noticed I discerned the faint glow surrounding it—a telltale sign that despite having lost around half of its energy to the scrolls it was still slowly leaking energy, creating a dense pocket of aether in its immediate vicinity.

With the help of the more obvious aether rounding the core, I was quickly able to accurately perceive the aether around me. So I shifted my focus to the next step. The scrolls had imparted the knowledge needed to wield the aether, to master the currents that now danced around me.

I envisioned the aether as a subtle current, a force waiting to be harnessed. With a deliberate effort, I extended my will, seeking to gain control over the unruly energy. It was a delicate dance, a communion with the unseen forces that enveloped me.

As I honed my skills, the aether responded to my silent command. It swirled and shifted, bending to the invisible strings of my will. The once chaotic energy began to submit to my newfound mastery, either a testament to the potency of the Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique or my own genius.

Next was a crucial step, pivotal in the Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique. This step also stood as the main difference between the two scrolls, and it carries immense importance in shaping the outcome of the ritual.

Now, I proceed with a rather painful method. With my tail, I pierce the palm of my hand, drawing forth a few crimson droplets. In a somewhat messy fashion, I employ a claw from my other hand to sketch a symbol on my chest, right over where my heart would be.

This diverges from what the demon larva's scroll instructed since it tells me to use the symbol that was pre-drawn within the scroll.

However, luckily for me I knew better than to do that since the succubus's scroll delves deeper into the significance – it reveals that as a demon, by drawing the symbol with one's own blood, a link is forged between the symbol and the drawers innate impulses, their core essence, or in other words their Id.

While I don't fully grasp the full implications of using a symbol another demon had drawn, I knew that if I followed the instructions from the demon larva's scroll, my strength would almost certainly have been tethered to its creator, presumably Uggrock.

In opting to use the other scroll, I've just created and am about to utilize my own unique variation of the symbol, following the intricate instructions in the scroll the succubus had given me.

With the symbol freshly etched upon my chest, I was ready for the next stage of the Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique. The ambient aether, now under my tentative command, awaited its next directive. I directed the swirling energies through the drawn symbol on my chest, like a conduit channelling an ethereal river into the very core of my being.

The sensation was otherworldly. The aether, once a chaotic dance around me, now coursed through the lines of the symbol with purpose. It felt like a subtle current, intertwining with the essence of my demonic form. I followed the technique's intricate instructions, a delicate dance of control and finesse.

As the aether flowed through the symbol, a transformation occurred within me. Using the information that had been implanted in my brain on the Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique, I learned how to refine the aether into a potent force known as Id-Qi.

Id-Qi was described as a variant of Qi, but with a distinctive quality that demons could master more efficiently due to its link with one's innate instinctive impulses. Moreover, due to the method of refinement, the Id-Qi refined using the Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique had touches of abyssal energy in it.

To me, the refinement process seemed akin to sculpting raw clay into a precise form. I could feel the aether undergoing a metamorphosis, becoming a concentrated essence that resonated with my demonic nature.

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With the currents of refined Id-Qi coursing through me, I steered my focus towards the core of my being.

As the Qi reached my core, I braced myself for the arduous but boring task ahead – condensing the Qi within. It felt like grasping at ephemeral threads, attempting to mold them into a tangible form. This, by far, was the most challenging phase of the technique, a test of my control over the potent energies swirling within me.

Numerous attempts ended in failure, each time forcing me to restart the process from refining the Id-Qi. Frustration threatened to overshadow determination, but I pressed on, driven by the promise of empowerment that lay beyond the struggle.

After countless setbacks, a breakthrough emerged. A minuscule droplet, condensed and shimmering with a newfound intensity, hung at the epicenter of my core. It was a small victory, a precursor to the countless droplets I would need to accumulate for the completion of the technique.

Just doing this once, let alone completing this technique was going to take a while, wasn't it.

With the condensed droplet of ethereal Qi suspended in my core, I embarked on the next step of the Plutonic Id-Vesture Technique. The instructions whispered caution, warning me of a delicate trade-off – to propel the droplets into my heart, a sacrifice must be made. My core, currently the container of my demonic essence, would weaken, but in return, my heart would slowly take the roll of my core but better.

After I directed the single small droplet of liquid Qi toward my heart, the ethereal droplet coalesced with my heart. My core, currently still pulsating with untamed energy, yielded to the small sacrifice, relinquishing a portion of its strength in exchange for the promise of a more formidable demon heart.

Abruptly, the eerie ambiance of the pit was shattered by the ominous creaking of a metal grate. The sound echoed with a foreboding resonance, stirring the very shadows around me. Without a moment's reprieve, the pit resonated with a disconcerting symphony as the grate opened above me.

Then, piercing through the air like a cruel prelude, a short scream erupted. A humanoid figure, dark purple hair billowing in the chaotic descent, was unceremoniously tossed over the edge of the pit. Their screams, a haunting melody, echoed against the stone walls, marking the brief duration of their descent.

Yet, more screams followed, a cacophony of fear that heralded the arrival of additional figures. Like annoying rain, even more humanoid forms which were also much like my own descended into the pit, each scream weaving into the chaotic tapestry of the abyss.

As the pit welcomed its unwilling guests, the air pulsed with tension. I observed the unfolding spectacle, shrouded in the dim light. While thinking to myself, at least I didn't scream when I had been tossed in.

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Location: < Ground floor entrance to the 'Temple of Birth' > - One of a few such places scattered through the isolated corners of the lower heavens.

POV.: Nameless silver-haired fledgling angel.

As I stood there, my eyes fixated on the breathtaking spectacle unravelling before me, I couldn't help but marvel at the astonishing speed with which the coven was working. The air crackled with energy, and the vibrant hues of arcane symbols painted in shimmering, iridescent light adorned the space around me.

After our conversation with Lady Berenice, Lyra and I had decided to stay in the reassuring confines of the Temple of Birth. It was a swift but unanimous choice since it balanced safety with the desire to stay close to the unfolding advents outside.

As we walked looking for the perfect vantage point, the air transformed from the charged tension I had felt moments ago to a serene stillness. The temple embraced us with a sacred hush, its ancient walls exuding an energy that resonated with celestial grace.

Casting my eyes around, I spotted the perfect vantage point I had been looking for near the entrance—plus it had stone slabs that rose out of the floor like stools to sit on.

Running over to the stone stools I turned to look to Lyra, I suggesting, "How about over here?" The choice felt right, a nice position that allowed us to remain in the Temple of Birth while maintaining an excellent view of the unfolding spectacle.

Sitting down at the chosen spot, I felt the cool touch of the stone stool beneath me. To my surprise, the stone stools really must have been just that since they were unusually soft and velvety as if nature itself had fashioned a cushion for me to sit upon. It added an unexpected but welcome layer of comfort.

The air within the temple carried a sacred stillness, contrasting the dynamic energy of the celestial events outside. A few stained glass windows adorned with intricate patterns allowed rays of multi-coloured celestial light to dance upon the temple floor, creating a mesmerizing display.

Beyond the threshold of the Temple of Birth, a spectacle unfolded the likes of which I had never witnessed before. The members of my coven were seamlessly collaborating, their figures weaving a dance of unity against the canvas of the heavens.

In the span of mere moments, the air buzzed with energy as two agile angels soared around the mountain's perimeter. Their movements were a synchronized ballet, almost ethereal in their grace, as they swiftly erected small temporary obelisks that they had made the night before just in case. Each one rose like crystalline pillars with aluminum caps, and each covered in many entactments.

The obelisks, bathed in a faint celestial glow, began to hum with an otherworldly resonance. It was a prelude to the spell they were about to form. As their magic intertwined, a shimmering dome materialized above the settlement and the Temple of Birth, encapsulating the sacred space in a translucent shield that would only let angels pass through.

I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of their coordinated efforts. The dome, a manifestation of celestial prowess, pulsed with an energy that seemed to vibrate in harmony with the very heartbeat of the heavens. I felt a surge of pride, witnessing my coven's abilities unfold in such a breathtaking display.

As I observed the celestial preparation before me, it became evident that the threat of imminent conflict had stirred a collective preparation among the members of our coven. Across the small settlement, they flew around with purpose, as each angel, save for the caregivers and fledgling, readied themselves in their unique way for combat.

Yet, amidst this, my attention was drawn to the figure of Lady Berenice. There she sat, cross-legged and serene, a solitary beacon of calm in the midst of the bustling preparation. The distance she chose afforded her a quiet space, and it was clear that her form of preparation transcended the physical.

Lady Berenice's presence, like a still lake reflecting the moonlight, exuded an aura of tranquil command. The ethereal glow around her seemed to dance in resonance with the celestial energies. With eyes closed and a serenity that belied the impending storm, she meditated, connecting with the cosmic currents in a way that only someone of her stature could.

The air around her shimmered with an almost palpable energy, as if the very fabric of the heavens acknowledged her presence. It was a moment frozen in time, a glimpse into the quiet strength that resided within the heart of our coven.

my tranquil reverie was abruptly shattered by a shout that cut through the celestial stillness like a clarion call. My attention snapped to the source of the disruption, and there, breaking through the magical barrier, was a two-winged figure adorned in robes of earthy tones, a camouflage that would seamlessly meld with the underbrush of a forest.

The figure, a swift and dynamic silhouette against the cosmic backdrop, rocketed into view with an unmistakable sense of urgency. The earth-toned robes billowed like the leaves in a sudden gust, revealing a mastery of movement that seemed to defy the celestial constraints. It was a manifestation of both speed and grace, a celestial messenger carrying tidings that demanded immediate attention and cradled within the figure's arms was a bundle wrapped in pristine white cloth.

The relieved shout that had pierced the calm carried echoes of triumph, as if the figure had overcome a formidable obstacle. It reverberated through the hallowed space, leaving an ethereal resonance that lingered in the air.