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168: The Rite of Fla and Bone 168: The Rite of Fla and Bone Lust.

Gluttony.

Greed.

Sloth.

Wrath.

Envy.

Pride.

The seven deadly sins humanity’s favorite scapegoats for its own downfall.

In the end, they all spiral back to one thing, desire.

The desire for more.

The hunger to satisfy oneself.

But does that make desire inherently evil?

Is it truly the root of all suffering?

Of course not.

Without desire, there is no progress.

No evolution.

No spark to push forward.

Take the Krell, for example.

Ben could grant them intelligence.

But how they use it?

That still depended entirely on his will.

They don’t act unless commanded.

They don’t dream unless told to.

And if Ben were to die?

They’d fall silent.

Maybe they wouldn’t vanish instantly.

Maybe the systems would keep living.

But without a living will behind it, without soone to reshape, repurpose, desire more, they’d simply stagnate.

The kingdom would wither.

Its legacy would end with its master.

Because the Krell, for all their strength, and loyalty…

are tools.

Glorified ones, yes.

But still tools.

And tools alone don’t build nations.

Not ones that last.

Not ones that live.

“A Kingdom is not it’s territory, it’s the people.

You’re right Elvira, we need to unite everyone under one will.

Only than could it last.” Elvira nodded, arms crossed as her eyes lingered on the glowing map.

“So, what species is next on the list?” Ben leaned back slightly, his gaze still focused on the shifting markers.

“That’s not our concern.

Draeven and Slark are handling that side of things.” He paused, then added with a faint smirk, “Once we take the city and secure our seat, we’ll send a proper representative.

That’s when we start making decisions.” As an Ashborn, Draeven was often dispatched to maintain order among the subordinate species.

On paper, his job was to quell unrest and enforce loyalty.

In practice, he used it to plant seeds, quiet alliances, whispered promises, subtle subversions.

Slark made the process even smoother.

With his mastery of shadows and networks of hidden routes, their movents beca ghosts in the system.

The two worked in tandem, destroying the very structure of the Nephirid empire from the inside.

But Ben and Elvira kept their distance from the details.

They had their own battles to fight.

Elvira’s voice was calm, but edged with anticipation.

“So when will you challenge the city lord?” She couldn’t wait to leave the capital.

Every day spent here ant staying hidden, restrained.

Unlike him, Elvira couldn’t morph her body biologically, not without fully taking over another Nephirid.

And that… she preferred to avoid, unless absolutely necessary.

So her freedom was tethered to this place.

Even when she disguised herself as Vek’tal, it ca at a cost.

Her form was wrapped in Ben’s flesh, shaped and maintained by his will.

A trick, clever and effective, but not perfect.

The biomass could only stretch so far before control weakened.

At most, a few arm-lengths.

And Ben had to concentrate the entire ti.

That was why Ben acted alone in the capital.

Why she stayed hidden on this bar.

“Everything’s in place,” Ben said, his tone low.

“We’re just waiting on the confirmation for the Rite of Fla and Bone.” Elvira crossed her arms, eyes narrowing.

“It’s a mid-tier city.

The lord can’t be that difficult.” The Rite of Fla and Bone wasn’t just a simple duel.

it was a blood-soaked tradition dating back to the Nephirid’s earliest days.

To issue the rite, one needed three prerequisites.

First, a standing command rank.

Ben had already secured this by rising through the gladiatorial pits, earning command over a full battalion.

Second, an approved claim, often granted by the city council, but in this case earned through reputation and record.

After two years of calculated victories and flawless battlefield coordination, Ben’s na had risen high enough.

There were whispers among the nobility.

So even hoped he’d win.

Third an offering of bone.

A symbolic gesture.

One limb or one skull of a Nephirid warrior who stood against the current lord.

It could be one’s own kin, a rival, or even oneself.

“That last part…” Elvira’s voice was cold.

“You’re not seriously thinking of offering your own bone?” Ben shook his head.

“Of course not.

The one from the last pit champion will do.

We made sure to keep his corpse intact.” Elvira nodded.

“And the crowd?” “They’ll cheer for blood.

They don’t care who wins.

But we made sure enough of them know my na.

Enough to sway the mood.” There was one more concern.

The duel was rarely fair.

On paper, it was a one-on-one battle.

Just the challenger and the reigning lord, watched by the flas of judgnt and the eyes of the city.

But in practice?

When the top is crooked, so are the underlings.

Officially, the Rite of Fla and Bone was a sacred Nephirid tradition, a test of strength.

But in practice?

When the top is crooked, so are the underlings.

City lords would play with the line, bringing their own relic or pet into the fight.

The word strength had been twisted into justification for every kind of underhanded advantage imaginable.

So lords use weapons that bled poison into the arena.

Others summoned cursed beast.

A few even bent the rules further, hiding golems in the walls or using hidden weapons to their own flesh.

And the current city lord?

He was infamous for it.

Lord Kharvek the Crimson Brand.

A brutal warlord, once exiled from the capital for causing a massacre just to kill one spy.

In his last duel, he use relic to create entire army of golems.

But the worse is he doesn’t use them to fight, he order the golem to capture than self detonate.

The records said he won in a single strike.

Not against his opponent, but against the arena itself, collapsing half the floor and swallowing the challenger whole.

The fla judges deed it valid.

Victory by force.

Elvira’s brow furrowed as she stared at the duel’s archived footage in the crystal tablet.

“What are you planning, my beloved?” She wasn’t worried about Ben losing, she was worried his disguise might tear apart mid-fight.

Ben gave a calm nod, voice low and steady.

“That’s fine,” he said.

“I can cheat too.

No matter how crooked they are, Nephirid still builds everything on strength.

Trying to pull tricks against , a human?

Yeah, good luck with that.”

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