Ezren exhaled, still recovering from the lingering strain of dark mana spreading through his body earlier. His fingers tingled, his limbs heavy—not from exhaustion, but from something deeper. The sensation of dark mana, thick and weighty, still clung to his skin like an invisible second layer.
The chamber around him was no ordinary cave. It was alive.
A massive, underground chamber, roughly 20 meters in diameter, its walls were organic, pulsing as if they were the insides of a living beast. Veins bulged and throbbed, pumping thick, dark fluids through their fleshy surface. The vaulted ceiling stretched 7 meters high, curved like the ribcage of some colossal creature, with bony protrusions arching overhead. The air was thick with the scent of blood and damp rot.
Above, the ceiling glowed with a sickly, bioluminescent light, its surface veined with luminous threads that pulsed rhythmically, as if drawing breath. The pale glow illuminated the chamber in uneven waves, shadows dancing across the writhing walls.
This place was different. Unique. Ezren couldn’t quite place it at first, but the realization soon struck him. The air was thick with dark mana, saturating the environment like a fog. The forge wasn’t merely a place of creation—it was a sanctuary for death itself.
At the center of this grotesque cave stood the Altar of Flesh, a 2-meter-wide podium of writhing sinew and bone, pulsating with an eerie rhythm. Its surface was slick with dark mana, its structure shifting ever so slightly like it was breathing. The first time Ezren had placed his hand upon it, he felt his dark mana drain away, a magic circle forming beneath his feet. Something deep within the forge had connected to him. Now, whenever he entered this chamber, he could feel it—Graos could emerge from the flesh at will.
Ezren's gaze flickered to the abomination before him. Graos, the Fleshsmith, rose from the ground, sinewy tendrils pulling his chitinous body free from the living floor. He resembled an insect-like entity, but his flesh was unmistakably human, twisted and reforged into something unnatural. His hollow sockets watched Ezren in silence.
Ezren cleared his throat. “What exactly are you? And... what is this place?”
Graos clicked, his voice rasping with an unnatural quality. "Designation: Graos, The Fleshsmith. Created by Marquis Orias. Function: Reshaping, optimizing, and recombining organic matter through dark mana manipulation. This place—The Forge of Flesh and Bone—is an extension of me. I am bound to it, just as I am bound to you. Graos rasped, "Corpses stored within this place do not rot. Flesh—preserved indefinitely. Decay—nullified by dark mana saturation." Flesh—preserved indefinitely. Decay—nullified by dark mana saturation."
Ezren narrowed his eyes. “Reshaping? Optimizing?”
"All organic material has potential. Bone can be restructured. Flesh can be reinforced. Weakness—improve. Efficiency—maximized."
A chill ran down Ezren’s spine. He had assumed Graos was some kind of assistant, but this was something else. It wasn’t just an artisan of flesh—it was a cold, calculating machine that saw the living and the dead as mere resources.
Graos twitched, then turned toward the center of the room. The fleshy ground trembled as it parted, revealing a sunken pit filled with a viscous, blood-red substance. Thick and gleaming like fresh gore, the Sinew Pool rippled as if alive.
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"Observe," Graos rasped. "Sinew Pool: Primary reconstruction medium. Bone—framework. Flesh—woven. Regeneration—stimulated. Flesh submerged—preserved indefinitely."
Ezren stared at the shifting liquid, watching it pulse and churn in eerie rhythm with the forge itself. He could almost feel the dark mana saturating its depths, waiting to be shaped.
Graos continued. "Material—submerged. Flesh—forms over skeletal foundation. Process—accelerated by dark mana. Efficiency—high. Waste—eliminated."
Ezren exhaled slowly. So this was where the dead were reforged. A factory of flesh.
He crossed his arms. “And how do you perform this ‘remaking of flesh’?”
Graos’s hollow sockets locked onto him. "Process: Corpse required. Dark mana—fuel. Flesh—forged into new form. Limbs reconstructed, features altered, functions enhanced. Waste—eliminated. The stronger the material, the greater the outcome."
Ezren processed that. “So… you can shape the dead into whatever I need?”
"Affirmative. With sufficient raw material and dark mana." Graos paused. "I am connected to you. Altar—imprinted you. Your dark mana—siphoned when commands are given."
Ezren's eyes narrowed. "You use my dark mana to work?"
"Correct. Graos—has no mana core. All actions require siphoning of dark mana from the designated master."
Ezren glanced around the chamber again. If this forge responded to his mana, then maybe…
“Can you reshape this place?” he asked. “Like, make separate rooms?”
Graos twitched. "Clarify: Purpose?"
Ezren sighed. “I don’t know, maybe an actual workspace? A storage area? A place to rest?”
The Fleshsmith was silent for a moment, then responded. "Possible. Structural rearrangement requires sustained dark mana input. Will drain reserves."
Ezren grimaced. That wasn’t ideal, but it meant he had control. He could make this place his own.
He placed a hand on the Altar of Flesh, feeling the connection deepen. He could see it—with enough dark mana, he could reshape this place as he saw fit. But now wasn’t the time.
Not yet.
This forge was not just a place of creation—it was a sanctuary against decay.
Graos is an insect-like entity fused with human flesh, his chitinous exoskeleton merging seamlessly with sinew and muscle, creating a grotesque yet functional form. His face lacks eyes, replaced by hollow sockets that seem to perceive his surroundings without sight. His voice is rasping and mechanical, devoid of emotion, emphasizing his cold, analytical nature.
Created by Marquis Orias, Graos is a master of flesh manipulation, capable of reshaping, optimizing, and transmuting organic material through Ezren’s dark mana. He has no mana core of his own, making him entirely dependent on Ezren to function. His Forge of Flesh and Bone is an extension of his body—a living, sinew-covered chamber where corpses do not decay. He emerges from the forge’s floor, his form unfurling from the flesh and bone, and remains motionless unless commanded. He views both the living and dead as raw materials, treating them with cold, calculating efficiency.
His key abilities include:
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Flesh Manipulation & Bone Transmutation in the Sinew Pool – Reshaping and optimizing organic matter by submerging corpses in the Sinew Pool, where flesh is woven, bones reinforced, and reconstruction accelerated through dark mana.
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Material Analysis – Evaluating corpses for strengths, weaknesses, and applications.
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Structural Rearrangement – Modifying the forge with sustained dark mana input.
- Preservation Effect: Corpses and flesh stored within the Forge of Flesh and Bone do not rot, as the environment halts decay through constant saturation of dark mana.
Graos is a strategic ally, acting as Ezren’s personal fleshsmith.
Graos emerges from the floor when summoned and remains motionless unless commanded. He is purely analytical, viewing both the living and the dead as raw materials for optimization