Extract from the -{ Tome of Light }- the divine scripture of the Church of Light.

"As the supreme judge of all existence, I weigh your worthiness. Prove your devotion through unwavering obedience, and I shall bestow upon you the riches of my favor." (Chains of Obedience- 4:11 )

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The ancient castle loomed against the twilight sky, its ash-colored bricks weathered by countless centuries. Shadows writhed at every corner, alive and hungry, their tendrils reaching out as if to grasp unwary passersby. The guide's footsteps echoed through the barren halls, each sound swallowed by the oppressive silence that followed.

Torchless sconces lined the walls, their emptiness a stark reminder of bygone opulence. The guide's eyes, adjusted to the gloom, picked out hairline cracks in the stone and the faint outlines of long-forgotten tapestries. His fingers trailed along the wall, collecting dust that had lain undisturbed for ages.

A massive door loomed ahead, its surface etched with arcane symbols that seemed to shift and dance in the dim light. As the guide approached, it swung open silently, granting entry without touch or command. He stepped through, his pace unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

The chamber beyond dwarfed the hallway, its ceiling lost in shadow. It bore a striking resemblance to ancient courtrooms, with one crucial difference - this room exuded power, old and terrible. A raised dais dominated one side, accessible by a flight of worn stone steps. Atop it sat a throne, barely visible in the murk.

Darkness thickened beyond the stairs, an inky void that seemed to devour light itself. Only the vaguest outline of a figure could be discerned, unnaturally still upon its seat of power. The air grew heavy, pressing down like a physical weight.

The guide halted at the foot of the dais, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"The kid's choice. You saw it coming, didn't you?"

Silence greeted his words, but the guide pressed on, undaunted. A wicked grin split his face, revealing teeth that gleamed in the darkness.

"No wonder you were so quick to agree. Letting me offer my own contract if he turned you down."

From within his robe, the guide produced a file. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sent it sailing into the impenetrable darkness. The sound of rustling papers was swallowed by the void.

"At least that settles my debt."

Fingers rasped against stubble as the guide stroked his chin. His eyes narrowed, calculating and cold.

"What exactly did you dangle in front of the boy? Some old subordinate's inheritance?"

His tone shifted, taking on a dangerous edge. The air around him seemed to crackle with tension.

"Or maybe it's your late second's legacy? If that's the case, those crusty old frogs down below would lose their minds. They'd rip the dark mountains apart stone by stone."

A dry chuckle escaped his lips, devoid of true mirth. His eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and malice.

"Imagine their faces if they knew their precious prize, the thing they've warred over for centuries was handed to a snot-nosed brat barely out of diapers. Nineteen years old? He's an infant by our standards."

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The shadows in the room began to writhe and twist, no longer content to lurk at the edges of perception. They coalesced into writhing tendrils that reached towards the guide, their touch cold as the void.

"That will be all."

The voice that emanated from the darkness was deep, vibrant, and utterly inhuman. It resonated through the chamber, shaking dust from the ancient stones. The figure on the throne opened its eyes - twin pinpricks of eldritch light that pierced the gloom.

The guide's body reacted before his mind could process the danger. His gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet that terrifying gaze. Words spilled from his mouth, foreign and unbidden.

"Yes, my lord."

He retreated from the chamber, his earlier bravado evaporating like morning mist. The massive doors slammed shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty corridors.

Alone in the dim hallway, the guide's mask of confidence crumbled. His body began to quiver, hands shaking as he raised them before his eyes. Reality crashed down upon him, the weight of his insignificance crushing down upon his soul.

……………………………………………………..

Consciousness returning to Asher like the slow lifting of a heavy fog. Voices pierced through the veil of his slumber, familiar yet somehow changed.

"When do you think he will wake up, Jormu?"

The voice rumbled like distant thunder, vibrating through Asher's bones. He stirred, eyelids fluttering but not yet opening.

"I don't know, but I hope it's soon. There are humans nearby, and I don't know how Dad feels about us driving his species away to protect him."

This voice was different - ethereal, like the whisper of wind through ancient trees. Asher's brow furrowed, his mind struggling to reconcile the familiar names with these alien tones.

"True, he did always ramble about wanting his social life back or going karaoke with his friends."

"Ah, so you heard him mumbling that in his sleep as well?"

"Yeah, Dad speaks a lot of weird stuff in his sleep."

"I know, right? Sometimes he even grins stupidly while crying out 'Rem~ Rem~' for no reason."

Asher's eyes snapped open, a retort dying on his lips as he beheld the scene before him. Where his companions had once stood, two colossal figures now dominated the landscape.

Inky had transformed into a being of pure nightmare. Four obsidian-purplish horns curved from his head, forming a crown-like structure that pulsed with dark energy. A dense black haze swirled around them, creating the illusion of a crown of dark flame. Beneath his massive body, reality itself seemed to warp and twist, a pitch-black portal that led to realms unknown.

Asher's gaze traveled along Inky's form, taking in the eight arms now adorned with mysterious purplish tattoos. The symbols seemed to shift and change as he watched, defying comprehension. The remaining two limbs ended in claws that looked capable of rending reality itself.

His attention shifted to Jormu, and his breath caught in his throat. She had grown to titanic proportions, dwarfing even Inky's impressive size. Her body shimmered between reality and ethereality, covered in scales that glowed with the light of dying stars. Ghostly mist swirled around her serpentine form, obscuring and revealing in equal measure.

Four orbs of spectral blue flame danced around Jormu, each one pulsing with a life of its own. They weaved intricate patterns in the air, leaving trails of ghostly light in their wake. Asher found his gaze drawn to Jormu's eyes - pools of blueish-white energy that seemed to contain entire galaxies within their depths.

As Asher struggled to process the sight before him, he activated his skill. Information flooded his mind, threatening to overwhelm him with its implications.

[ Soul Sovereign Dragon : ( spirit lord candidate ) (Tier 1) an extinct species of the dragon family, a living testament to a harmonious balance between ephemeral and eternal. With scales aglow with stardust, this spirit lord species guides the lost spirits to the predestined afterlife and draws strength from the essence of the lost ones. Its eyes contain twin orbs of spectral light, and its bearing commands reverence from all soul and spirit beings below the realm of lords. only one lord of its kind can exist at once.

Current status: worried ]

[ Abyssal Devourer Kraken : ( abyss lord candidate) (Tier 1) A descendant of cosmic calamity, this lord species of abyss is one with the laws of void and abyss. Its massive form can span the heavens in adult form, adorned with iridescent, bioluminescent markings that illuminate the surrounding darkness of void with its eerie glow. Its body is covered in a dark slick, obsidian carapace that reflects the distant gleam of stars. Its existence serves as a testament to the unfathomable mysteries of the ancient past. Only one lord of its kind can exist at once.

Current status: worried ]

The words appeared in Asher's mind, accompanied by a sense of ancient power and cosmic significance. He saw flashes of stardust scales of Jormu’s adult form guiding lost souls to their eternal rest, of eyes that held the wisdom of eons. His mind reeled at the thought of Inky's adult form, adorned with bioluminescent markings that rivaled the beauty of distant stars.

"H-how?" Asher managed to croak, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Jormu's massive head lowered, bringing one enormous eye level with Asher. Her voice, when she spoke, resonated not just in his ears but in his very soul.

"It happened while you slept, Dad. The essence you absorbed... it changed us."

Asher listened in stunned silence as Jormu explained their transformation. The fruit essence, rejected by his body, had sought out his companions through their blood bond. Enhanced by its journey through Asher, it had triggered their third successive mutation.

As Jormu spoke of the rarity of their condition, Asher's mind whirled with the implications. Multiple stable mutations before awakening were almost unheard of, each one decreasing the chances of success. Yet here stood his companions, living proof of the impossible.

Asher's gaze darted between Inky and Jormu, taking in their new forms with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The title "lord candidate" echoed in his mind.

As the reality of their transformation sank in, Asher found himself at a loss for words.