Chapter 35: Secrets Buried in the West

  Nando moved quietly through the halls of the Stone Tower, his thoughts heavy as he descended toward the first floor. Unlike the other recruits, today he had no task to occupy his time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t on a mission.

  His contribution points had been steadily increasing, and he had saved enough to indulge his curiosity, a dangerous curiosity that had been gnawing at him since he overheard whispers about a forgotten Apostle.

  The Apostle known as FiendFinger.

  The name alone had sparked something in Nando, a mix of awe and intrigue. FiendFinger was one of the first non-gifted to become an Apostle of the tower, and his rise in power had been nothing short of miraculous, yet unsettling.

  There were rumors about how he had grafted a demon's finger onto his own hand, a procedure so taboo and strange that it sounded more like a horror story than reality. And yet, eight years ago, FiendFinger had disappeared, vanishing without a trace on a task assigned by the Tower.

  Before the disappearance, he had been scrutinized by the other apostles for his research involving other humans. In fact, some say his disappearance was purposeful as to avoid the punishment from the tower.

  Nando reached the library’s entrance.

  He stepped in, his boots echoing against the stone floor, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, Marcel's eyes were on him.

  “Looking for something, Nando?” Marcel’s voice was warm but ced with curiosity as she sat behind the grand desk, her sharp eyes peering over her spectacles. There was something about her calm demeanor that always unnerved him slightly, as if she already knew the answers to questions he hadn't even asked yet.

  Nando hesitated for a moment, his gaze briefly darting around the vast expanse of shelves filled with books, before he responded, “Yes, actually. I’m looking for any information on an old apostle of the Tower... someone called FiendFinger.”

  Marcel leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly against the desk. “FiendFinger, you say? He’s not a name I hear often, certainly not from recruits like you. Why are you looking for him?”

  Nando met her gaze, trying to appear casual. “I’ve heard a few things. Rumors, mostly. They say he was one of the first non-gifted to become an apostle. I’m interested in the way he did it.”

  Marcel raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening. “You mean the finger of a demon he supposedly transpnted onto himself?”

  Nando nodded.

  For a brief moment, the air between them seemed to shift, a tension creeping in as Marcel considered his words. Then, with a sigh, she rose from her chair. “Follow me,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

  Nando trailed behind her as they wound through the maze of bookshelves. Deeper and deeper they went, the light growing dimmer, the silence growing more oppressive. Marcel led him to a secluded section of the library, a pce where the dust seemed thicker, and the books older, their spines cracked and weathered.

  She stopped and gestured to a row of books on a low shelf. “You’ll want to start here,” she said. “This section covers the darker aspects of alchemy and forbidden arts. You may find something useful about FiendFinger’s methods... or, at the very least, you’ll learn about the Bck Alchemists.”

  Nando furrowed his brow. “Bck Alchemists?”

  Marcel’s eyes darkened as she expined, “A secretive and dangerous group that existed long before the Roln Kingdom. They were known for their twisted rituals and experiments. They specialized in transpnting body parts from creatures, demons, beasts, and other treacherous beings into humans. Their methods were brutal and often resulted in madness, but for those who survived, the rewards were... substantial.”

  The mention of madness made Nando’s stomach churn, but his curiosity only deepened. He couldn’t help but think of the mossy floater arm he had recovered and the possibilities it held.

  “What happened to them?” Nando asked.

  “They were wiped out, or so it’s believed,” Marcel replied, her voice lowering. “Leaving behind forgotten ruins throughout this continent.”

  Nando’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be? The possibility of finding such a pce, of learning their methods, was both thrilling and terrifying. He nodded to Marcel, thanking her for the guidance.

  She gave him one st look, her expression unreadable. “Be careful, Nando. Knowledge, especially the kind you’re seeking, always comes with a price.”

  With that, Marcel turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the library, leaving Nando alone with the ancient tomes.

  He reached for the nearest book, its cover cracked and aged. The title, written in a nguage barely recognizable, seemed to pulse with a faint glow as he opened it. Inside, the pages were filled with diagrams, human bodies with foreign limbs attached, eyes glowing with unnatural power, rituals drawn in circles with arcane symbols.

  Nando read through the passages, learning more about the Bck Alchemists and their twisted practices. They weren’t just interested in transpntation; they were obsessed with control, with mastering the body and turning it into something more. To them, the human form was merely a canvas, waiting to be altered and improved.

  One section in particur caught his attention. It spoke of how the transpnted parts, especially those of magical creatures, held a concentrated essence, what the Bck Alchemists called unique mana. This was the key to the transformation, the reason why a demon’s finger could grant such power.

  The demon’s essence was more than just flesh; it was a concentrated form of its power, and if one could survive the process of merging that essence with their own, they would unlock immense abilities.

  Further on, the book mentioned a location, the West. Hidden within the Highnds, there were said to be ruins of a Bck Alchemist stronghold, a pce where their rituals were once conducted. The thought sent a thrill through Nando.

  This could be it, a chance to learn more, to find a way to use the strange arm he had in his possession. He had to head west and explore to find the remains of the Bck Alchemists.

  He closed the book, his heart racing, and carefully pced it back on the shelf. This was more than just idle curiosity now; this was a path. A dangerous path, yes, but one that might lead him to power beyond anything he’d ever imagined.

  Nando returned to the library’s entrance, his mind racing with possibilities. Marcel was at her desk once more, watching him as he approached.

  “Find what you were looking for?” she asked, her voice light but her eyes sharp.

  “I think so,” Nando replied, trying to keep his excitement in check. “Thank you, Marcel.”

  She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “Just remember, knowledge is a double-edged sword. Don’t let it cut too deep.”

  With a final nod, Nando left the library, the weight of what he had learned pressing heavily on his mind. The path ahead was dangerous, but the lure of power was too strong to resist. He knew what he had to do next, as he headed to the task office, curious to see if there was any task that would allow him to travel West.