44 Lord Urag (1/2)
Stripped of life, the Archon's gored body collapsed on the ground. And in a twister of purple haze, the Wrathful Hunter vanished, leaving Kilian to cram all bodies, dead or alive, in the Hellforge.
First, he brain-wiped the living through the Experience Refiner, then stacked the unfortunate survivors and fallen as a pile, for later work.
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[Name: Kilian]
[Race: Human Fehl Mutant]
[Age: 18]
[Magus Rank: top-level Lesser Emissary]
[Battle Prowess: Quasi Archon]
[Dra Reserves: 1,470]
[Knowledge Points: 8,465]
[Implants: Lv. 1 Cyberkinesis Chip]
[Mutation: Stage II Eye of Fehl]
[Innate Abilities: Eye of Distortion, Eye of Revelation]
[Unique Disciplines: Lv. 3 Fleshcrafting\u003c\u003eLv. 3 Transmutation]
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Though killing only rewarded 30% of the victim's experience, the wealth of experience at an Archon's disposal ensured that the average specimen went for 5,000 kp. Unless, of course, they were one of those young upstarts of mighty houses or races who reached the threshold without much effort.
Alas, without a full wipe, Kilian only got broken and disordered memories from the fallen. The braindead 30, however, that was another story. Gathering all the intel, Kilian now knew how and why he faced this ambush. Through various processes, the Technocracy monitored the brain data of all members below Archon level, thereby ensuring even failed tasks would provide them with exhaustive information.
Only Archons and above stood beyond that process—their status ensuring that the Arch Senate wouldn't subject them to such indignity. By now, the Technocracy already received and processed the intel gleaned from the templars and emissaries—painting a better picture of Kilian's abilities.
Fortunately, templars and emissaries alike saw nothing beyond the first energy blast. With that intel alone, they didn't have the means to infer the existence of his Eye of Fehl. Otherwise, unfathomable consequences awaited.
Exiting the Hellforge, Kilian dragged his bloodied, naked form toward the two ladies, and while in other circumstances, the two might have taken the time to enjoy the fanservice. In this one, they had no such intent. And seeing her master torn by such ghastly wounds, Lena felt her heart clutched by an invisible hand.
”I need you,” Kilian knelt before Jezebel and stated without an ounce of playfulness. Understanding his meaning, Jezebel swept his wounds with her amethyst gaze, and heaved a sigh of helplessness.