Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 78: Chapter 78: One week.

Chapter 78 – One week.

One week had passed.

One week of Cassius pouring everything he had into training, fighting Ravagers and Voids at Tier Seven, and sometimes even Tier Six, improving his physical strength considerably in the process.

And with his serious dedication, he had succeeded in closing the Snake Loop for the Adaptation of fighting multiple opponents simultaneously.

The sensation at that moment had been thrilling — like his mind had expanded in some strange way — giving him the ability to fight up to three Tier Seven monsters at once without the slightest burden on his mind, each of his movements controlled with frightening accuracy.

The countless battles had also sharpened his Essence Manipulation up one notch.

Cassius could now easily enhance a specific part of his body with his essence, effectively cutting down the risk of running empty at a critical moment.

Yet he didn’t stop there.

The memory of being burned by fire back in the Outskirts was still very much alive inside him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the Queen knew that sometimes he dreamt of being consumed by a sea of lava; his body reduced to a puddle of strange, unrecognisable substances.

That was far too embarrassing to accept.

So in a burst of morbid motivation and sheer anger at having nightmares about something he had survived, Cassius decided to subject himself to being burned by fire until the Snake Loop for fire Adaptation closed.

His mother had been utterly, profoundly shocked when he shared the idea with her. Sefira Desdemona didn’t even consider it, she couldn’t bring herself to do that to her own son.

Aldrin refused too.

Both of them understood it was training. But neither could bring themselves to do that to Cassius, their last born.

Had it been any of their other children, the couple would have been happy to oblige.

Left with no other option, Cassius went to the Butler, Jabbar.

He expected to be turned down. Instead, the dark-skinned Butler was oddly and immediately interested in the idea of watching him set himself on fire.

Cassius didn’t know whether to feel relieved or deeply concerned. He accepted gratefully regardless...and proceeded to curse the entire genealogy of Jabbar the moment the man started.

Jabbar’s Aspect wasn’t fire-related. But he possessed a Tier Five artifact that produced an angry crimson flame.

His Aspect was something else entirely, tied to the concept of Night.

Cassius learned about the Tuculur Tribe during those burning sessions. Jabbar’s own people were called the Children of the Night in the Wastelands.

And it seemed the Butler had a habit of opening up to those he burned, because he began sharing the tales of his tribe...the Wastelands, their traditions, their customs, their culture.

Cassius was genuinely surprised to hear that in their tribe — and in the Wastelands generally — every boy at the age of nine was required to separate from his mother and go deep into the Wastelands for a month, accompanied only by his father and uncles, who wore snake masks and strange clothes plastered to their bodies with their own blood.

He had asked, out of curiosity, why.

The only answer Jabbar gave was the one he himself had been given:

”Separation of the boy from his safe world, to introduce him to the bigger, dangerous one. A world he must learn to survive. In short, a kind of rebirth. For as our tribesmen say: every man should be reborn at least twice.”

A rebirth.

Cassius had been genuinely puzzled by those words. Yet he had neither the desire nor the space to think too deeply on it, because his body was literally on fire at the time.

And so that became his routine.

Morning was training against monsters. Evenings was allowing Jabbar to indulge his burning enthusiasm, until the Snake Loop finally closed and gave him the Adaptation to be immune to the level of fire he had been subjected to. No more, no less.

It was agonising.

But Cassius managed to endure it thanks to his iron Will, and more importantly, to his nightly calls with his wife.

Ah. Even when he was far too exhausted to keep the conversation alive and ended up falling asleep mid-call, those were the moments he looked forward to most.

All the training was worth it just to have the strength to recount his day to Isolde and curse Jabbar at the end of it.

Isolde always cursed Jabbar with him. Cassius was deeply proud of her for it.

Just like that, a full week passed. Another Saturday Origin Store came, with nothing particularly exciting except a Tier Five artifact called the Cloak of Invisibility at 15,000 OP, bringing his total down to 35,700 OP.

The artifact’s purpose was obvious from its name: allow the wearer to be invisible to outside observation. The limitation was equally plain: anyone at Exalted rank could pierce through it without much difficulty.

Still, Cassius was satisfied. He could already see exactly how to use it in the coming event.

Slowly but steadily, his inventory was becoming something ridiculous with unique items that most beings, even those at high level, would never encounter in a lifetime.

And more would come. For Origin Store would never stop.

Those thoughts led him to consider building a reliable means of generating income, and then building his own group of people around it.

A Sect. An organisation. A club. A guild.

The designation hardly mattered. He just needed worthy lackeys to order around.

And it was on those thoughts that on Monday, the sixteenth of July, early in the morning, Cassius raised the subject with his wife and eternal partner.

”What do you mean?” Isolde asked, her voice calm, wearing the purple pyjamas Cassius had given her, looking at her husband through her phone screen.

They were on a video call. Cassius was preparing to leave for the Capital in less than an hour, standing before his colossal mirror in a white suit, purple tie, and a pair of luxurious white gloves.

His hair was cut cleanly, leaving his red eyes bare and visible in their entirety.

Isolde was — again — quietly amazed by his beauty. She suspected she would never get enough of it.

What she didn’t know was that Cassius thought the same about hers, and even more so since she had taken the Beauty Potion.

Her beauty now carried something mystical. Something otherworldly. Something he couldn’t quite name.

The potion hadn’t made Isolde more socially visible the way Anesthesia was. On the contrary, it was as if she had become even more absent to the world’s eye, as though the world itself was consciously concealing her beauty from everyone else. As if it were far too precious, far too extraordinary to be gazed upon by ordinary mortals.

With the sole exception of her husband, of course.

”I want to create a Sect.” Cassius repeated, correcting his tie. ”Or rather, I want us to create one. What do you think? I’m heading to the Capital today and I’ll take the opportunity to open a Tycoon’s Château account to start preparing for it.”

”What made you want this all of a sudden?” Isolde asked, tilting her head, a strand of black hair falling across her face.

”Because having something of our own would be useful, don’t you think?” He replied. ”And with the activities we rather enjoy doing...”

Isolde’s lips twitched into a smile.

”...we need people who can handle certain parts of it. Right now, for instance,” He turned his head and looked at her through the screen. ”You’re about to go and personally hunt someone down for the coming Event. If we had people working under us — people only we know about — you wouldn’t have to put yourself directly in danger.”

”I can’t deny that.” Isolde nodded, softly pushing the stray hair from her face. ”But believe me, Cassius, running an organisation requires, firstly, a lot of money. Secondly, deep commitment. And thirdly, competent people and capable leadership. Let’s not discuss the last two for now. How do you plan to handle the money side?”

She narrowed her eyes. ”Actually, how much do you get in monthly allowance from your family?”

His lips twitched. ”Let’s not discuss that.”

”Why not?”

”I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I know how financially limited you are with your family, darling.”

”Just say it.” She hissed. ”Is it really that much?”

”Depends on who you ask.” Cassius shrugged. ”To me it’s just enough to cover my expenses. My allowance is 150,000 SN a month.”

Isolde’s eye twitched. ”And you call that just enough for your expenses?”

”I like expensive things, darling.”

”For what reason?”

”Simply because I can.”

”You will have to cut that bullshit out if you want our organisation to see the light of day.”

Cassius smiled. ”So you accept?”

”As if I could refuse you?” She muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes curved like crescent moons, a quiet wave of joy moving through him. ”Then next time we see each other, I want to—!”

”Don’t you dare.” She growled, face slightly red, pointing a threatening finger through the screen. ”And this is not the time for your perversity—!”

”Stop pretending. I know you like it, darling.”

”Fuck you, Cassius.”

”Thank you for the blessing.”

Isolde looked as though she wanted to reach through the screen and slap that smug smile clean off his face. Then she shook her head and sighed. ”You need to leave soon. Focus for a moment.” Her voice turned serious, purple eyes hardening. ”How do you plan to actually build this organisation? Will Horus be part of it? I saw him two days ago at the Fangs headquarters, he’s going through treatment to control the tumour until a real cure is found. After that he’ll be put through training before they let him out again.”

”Constantine didn’t suspect anything?”

”Nothing. According to Horus.”

”Good. No Horus then, for now.” Cassius nodded. ”He can join later. For now, I want to start with a merchant organisation. One that sells artifacts and potions people will rarely find anywhere else in this world.”

”Just a front?”

”Aye.” He nodded. ”A way to generate money and build connections. And being a merchant is the easiest way to accumulate the most connections.”

”That’s true. It could be very useful if we pull it off.” She said, then cocked her head. ”But will you create it under your own name?”

Cassius smiled faintly. ”No.” He shook his head. ”I am no merchant. I can blackmail, but we need someone with real talent in that domain.”

”I—!”

”Not you, darling.” Cassius cut in. ”Stay beautiful for me and let’s enjoy our time by protecting my family and making your sister’s life hell.”

”I was going to curse you, but honestly that’s not a bad plan.” She grinned, then arched an eyebrow. ”Then who?”

”Who else?” He smiled, glancing at his watch. ”The youngest daughter of the Tycoon’s Château, of course. Meadow Wealth.”

—End of Chapter 78—