Aaron took a deep breath upon his throne, finally clarifying the identities of the four prospective members. None were malevolent individuals—all could be nurtured.
With that settled, all that remained was to conduct some trials, make preparations, and then convene the first gathering.
Aaron recalled the experiences and lessons of Klein's Tarot Club, summarizing them in light of his own circumstances.
First, he needed to name this gathering of his. 'Hmm... As a secret organization, it couldn't sound too cheap.'
His true name contained the descriptor "Great Emperor of the Chaotic Realm," so this divine assembly would be called the Chaos Council. It carried immense gravitas and sounded suitably intimidating.
Second, the four members hailed from all corners of the world, unlike the early Tarot Club, whose members were all from Loen. This meant language barriers would pose a challenge.
Well... that was easy enough to resolve. He was fluent in the languages of both the northern and southern continents and could simply employ the power of the origin substance to provide real-time translation.
Moreover, the four consisted of a fallen noble, a newly adult vampire, a half-blood with elven lineage, and a native of the southern continent. Their understanding of the supernatural world varied.
But he needed to make them clearly aware that this was a secret gathering convened by an entity of divine stature, instilling in them a sense of awe.
Thus, his honorific name, along with the corresponding sacrificial and bestowal rituals—elements that underscored the dignity of a deity—needed to be firmly planted in their minds from the outset.
Finally, he needed to control the rhythm of the gathering. Simply put, he required a "plant"—someone to steer the conversation so that not everything had to be explained by the lofty deity himself. Otherwise, it would diminish the divine stature.
Hmm... This was somewhat troublesome. He currently lacked the Beyonder characteristics of a Marionettist and couldn't fabricate a puppet to effortlessly orchestrate the proceedings.
But this wasn't insurmountable. He could impersonate his own blessed, seated in one of the nine high-backed chairs below, while projecting a false divine avatar upon the throne.
Given his current mastery over the origin substance, he only needed to manage the shift in identity and modulate his voice to pull off the deception. After all, the layers of dark golden mist would obscure their vision.
Once conditions permitted, he could eliminate a Marionettist and spare himself the hassle.
By posing as his own blessed, he could use that persona to impart basic mysticism knowledge and the acting method to the members, accelerating their growth.
This would also bolster the image of his divine blessed—erudite, formidable, and authoritative. It would also allow him to issue tasks unbefitting of a deity, such as gathering intelligence or procuring materials.
After carefully reviewing his plan, Aaron found no oversights. With a thought, his figure vanished from the throne and reappeared in the high-backed chair closest to the throne on the left.
A ripple of spirituality stirred, weaving through the surrounding dark golden mist, which slowly coalesced into a humanoid figure shrouded in layers of swirling fog upon the towering throne.
The mist obscured its features, but an aura of mystery, solemnity, and majesty was palpable.
Aaron willed it, and a vast, distant voice echoed from the throne: "Audacious fool! How dare you spy upon a deity?" He amused himself with the theatrics, found no flaws, and nodded in satisfaction.
With a wave, the figure on the throne dissipated. Closing his eyes, he let his consciousness sink, passing through the layers of dark golden mist interwoven with murmurs and roars, and returned to the compartment.
Aaron retrieved his pocket watch from his coat and checked the time—11 p.m. Assessing his spiritual reserves, he found the depletion minimal and promptly closed his eyes to meditate, replenishing the remainder.
When the hands reached 11:58, Aaron opened his eyes, rubbing his hands together with a mix of nervousness and excitement.
He closed his eyes again, extended his spirituality, and let his consciousness connect with the boundless dark golden mist in the infinitely high spiritual sky.
Passing through the dark golden mist reverberating with illusory whispers and howls, Aaron reopened his eyes.
With a thought, his figure vanished from the throne and reappeared in the high-backed chair below. A surge of spirituality intertwined with the surrounding dark golden mist, which gradually solidified into a humanoid figure enveloped in layers of fog upon the towering throne.
Preparations complete, Aaron channeled his spirituality into the four points of light on the lowermost stone chairs, linking them to the origin substance and conveying his intent to summon them. As his spirituality drained, the points of light expanded.
---
In a house in the southern district of Azashara, the capital of Lenburg, an ancient knight's short sword emitted a faint dark golden radiance that engulfed the young man lying on a nearby bed.
---
In a somewhat dilapidated high-rise villa with a garden in the Serzo District, southern outskirts of Feynapotter City, the capital of the Feynapotter Kingdom, a pale green diamond necklace glimmered faintly, instantly swallowing the girl scratching her head over a book at the table.
---
In a shabby two-story building on North Street in Port Bono, northwest of the Berserk Sea, a faint blue dagger emitted a glow that enveloped the blue-haired mixed-blood youth on the bed.
---
In Caesar Port, a colony of the Intis Republic located west of the Pas Valley, north of the Star Highlands in West Balam, southern continent, a translucent skull emitted an eerie light that shrouded the slightly gaunt boy beside it.
Amidst the dark golden mist, Louise Hills regained her vision and looked around in a mix of terror, bewilderment, and excitement. She found herself seated on a stone chair at the base of an enormous, grotesque double-spired palace.
Scanning her surroundings, she noticed three other male figures with blurred faces and hazy outlines on nearby stone chairs, similarly surveying their surroundings.
Almost simultaneously, they all noticed the figure seated upon the towering throne at the palace's depths, shrouded in layers of dark golden mist and adorned with a chaos-colored eye. Though its features were indiscernible, an aura of mystery, solemnity, and majesty was unmistakable.
Below the throne stood nine high-backed chairs, one of which was occupied by a man with an indistinct face.
"Sir, where is this?"
"What do you intend?"
The four were momentarily stunned into silence before speaking almost in unison. Though their languages and words differed, their sentences conveyed the same tense, grave tone.
Their bewilderment deepened when they realized they could understand each other perfectly despite the language barrier. The initial tension gave way to unease, wariness, fear, and dread.
Aaron willed it, and the dark golden mist rippled. A vast, distant voice, like the whisper of a deity, emanated from the throne:
"Welcome to my domain."