CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER 55: TRANSMUTE

Gerald woke early. Not the strained, bleary kind of early that used to grind his bones into powder, but the gentle kind—where his eyes opened on their own, no bell, no pounding headache, no stack of ledgers waiting to devour him whole. His vision adjusted to the pale half-light spilling through the high windows of his chamber.

For once, he wasn’t dragging himself out of bed with the taste of ink and regret in his mouth. He lay there for a second, savoring it. Eight hours. Eight entire hours. The words felt foreign, almost obscene, in his head.

He chuckled under his breath. "I might live long enough to be a real old bastard after all."

The thought left a faint warmth in his chest, a luxury he had long denied himself. He checked the clock again. Five sharp. He had time—time to breathe, to yawn without guilt, to stretch his limbs like he wasn’t already late.

Gerald rolled his shoulders and stepped out onto the balcony. His room sat directly beneath the lord’s chambers, high above the floors of the lesser servants. Not a lord, no—but higher than the other butlers and maids, a perch of authority. The stone rail was cool beneath his fingers, damp with dawn’s dew, and the morning air bit at his lungs in a way that was strangely cleansing.

And there, below, he saw the reason for his newfound freedom.

Aiden.

The boy—no, not a boy anymore, not quite human either—was already drenched in sweat, body twisting and snapping with mechanical precision. Sit-ups, push-ups, an endless rhythm of motion that defied the hour.

Gerald couldn’t help the slow grin tugging at his lips. The brat had taken more than half his burden: schedules, documentation, staff discipline, all the rotten piles of work that used to swallow Gerald’s nights whole.

Now Aiden swallowed it instead, and Gerald, for once, could breathe

"Ohhh, would you look at that—early bird at it again," he called, voice booming. "You trying to shame the rest of us into being responsible, huh?!"

Aiden didn’t even bother to look up, his voice muffled by exertion as he pumped his abs.

"...Old man... why the hell do you look so disgustingly happy first thing in the morning?"

Gerald barked a laugh, sharp and coarse.

"What? I’m old, boy! Watching brats like you bleed sweat makes my wrinkled heart feel young again. You think I’m supposed to be miserable with you?!"

Aiden grunted, rolling onto his side for another set.

"Correction—you already look miserable. Just... freakishly cheerful about it."

Gerald slapped the balcony rail, grinning wide, his sarcasm biting.

"Ha! Better cheerful and wrinkled than a half-dead brat pretending sweat makes him immortal, you cunt."

Aiden ignored him, jaw tight, breath controlled as he counted under his breath. His abs burned like coals beneath his skin, but he pushed through, each repetition sharp. He’d woken at three. His body simply didn’t need sleep the way it once had. Food, water, even rest—the ordinary rhythms of flesh had been rewritten the day his bloodline awakened.

Ember.

It was his new sustenance, his fuel. Fill it, and his body thrummed with strength, hunger quenched, thirst vanished, weariness erased as though he’d slept in the arms of a dream. Two, three hours of lying still was enough. His body woke on its own, impatient.

"Eighty... eighty-one... eighty-two..." His breath hitched, face twisted in strain. "One hundred—haaaah!"

He collapsed flat on the carpet of grass, chest heaving. His shirt clung like a second skin, the white fabric soaked and translucent. Steam rose faintly from his skin in the cool air.

No rest. The sit-ups gave way to jogging, a twenty-kilometer grind around the mansion. The ground crunched beneath his shoes, dew spraying his ankles, his breath a controlled engine.

He liked it now—liked the training, liked the way his body responded like tempered steel. The results came too quickly, muscles cut sharp, every vein and tendon alive.

Human ailments no longer clung to him. No fever, no weakness, no useless fat or breakouts. He sometimes wondered if he could even get sick anymore.

Every sprint, every push, every breath came easy, as though his flesh had been edited for efficiency. Even fatigue felt fake—his lungs only burned when his ember bar dipped, not when his body should’ve faltered.

He smirked between strides.

’System...’

---

[System]

Aiden

Bloodline: High Incubus (Unknown Tier)

Mana: Mid-low → High-low

Grade: C+ Class

Personality: Fresh / Uncontrollably Horny / Sweaty

Skills:

Possession Kiss (High Tier)

Aura of Allure (High Tier)

Emotion Amplification (High Tier)

Skill Absorption (Unlocked)

Dreamweaving (Locked)

Temptation Echo (Locked)

Beauty: Mesmerizing (Mythical Tier)

Talent: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Ember: 99.8% Filled

Charmed Possession: Sabrina, James, Simon, Lidia, Lisa, Leo...

Temporary Possession: Catherine, Louise, Alina, John...

Full Possession (Seeded): Flora, Akidna, Amber, Luna

Leashed Possession: None

Skills Added:

Hyper Mind (from Akidna)

Light Healing (from Amber)

Lion Bane (from Flora)

Light Telekinesis (from Luna)

---

Aiden slowed to a halt, leaning against a tree, sweat dripping into his eyes. He wiped at it with the towel slung over his shoulders, chuckling.

"Oh yeah... I got some upgrades after I ruseled Catherine to cum..." His voice was low, almost to himself, more amusement than brag.

The interface shimmered before him. Skill Absorption.

---

Skill Absorption

As a divine high incubus, son of Lilith, Users Absorption skill is a dark, seductive gift woven into the primal essence of Lilith’s blood. It allows user to siphon skills from women he’ve intimately entwined with, transmuting their abilities into powers befitting user’s incubus nature, tailored to my allure and dominion. Fueled by Lilith’s legacy, this skill thrives on the emotional and physical connection forged in passion, reshaping stolen talents into tools of manipulation and supremacy.

---

He grinned. "Okay... okay, I see you system. This is some good shit." His finger hovered, then tapped Hyper Mind.

[Transmute ’Hyper Mind’? Yes or No]

"Of course. Fuck yeah."

He clicked yes.

[Ember: 99.65%... 50%... 30%...]

The numbers plummeted.

"Wait...wait wait...What the fuck—" His voice broke as his knees buckled. A rush of weakness gnawed at him, sudden and ravenous, like something had torn a hole through his core.

His skin prickled cold, vision dimming at the edges. Hunger spiked—sharp, painful, insatiable. He hit the ground with a grunt, clutching at the grass.

"...wait... wait... I can’t afford to lose strength... not now..." His voice rasped.

[20%... 16%]

The fall stopped there. His body steadied, though faint tremors lingered in his limbs. He exhaled in ragged relief, cheek pressed against the cool earth. His shirt clung, translucent with sweat, his half-trousers soaked.

"Fuck..." He swallowed hard. If it had drained further, if his ember had bottomed out, he would’ve snapped. Instinct would’ve driven him to the nearest body.

[ Transmuting...]

Tanya’s face flickered in his head—thin waist, skirt shorter than it should’ve been. He’d seen her an hour ago, and his mind had already betrayed him with the thought. If desperation had pushed him...

He shut his eyes, jaw tight. It wasn’t just Tanya. More of the maids had begun dressing differently. Tighter skirts, blouses cut sharp, fabric clinging where it shouldn’t. Not summer, not heat—Akidna’s influence. He could smell it on them, like perfume, like provocation.

He smiled faintly despite himself, teeth flashing. Of course. They dressed this way because of him.

His imagination spun, painting images in the clouds overhead, until a shadow cut across his vision. He blinked, rolling onto his elbow.

[ Transmuting...]

A head peered down at him.

"John?"

"Aiden," the man answered, voice flat.

"What’re you doing?" John tilted his head, eyes narrowing.

Aiden stretched lazily on the grass, smirk curling. "Enjoying the sky, John."

John squinted. "...You were smirking. It was a bit weird."

"My whole life is weird, John."

"...yeah, that’s true... no comments."

Aiden chuckled, but cut the small talk with a flick of his wrist. "Why are you here, John?"

"Oh. Right." John scratched his neck. "The lord called you."

[ Transmuting...]

"Ohhh..." Aiden pushed himself upright, brushing stray grass from his damp shirt. "Any specific reason? It’s still early. Why didn’t he call that fucking lazy old man?" His tone was lazy, but his eyes sharpened.

John shifted awkwardly, voice uncertain. "...He specifically asked for you. Something about files. Military, I think." He tried to sound informed, but the hesitation betrayed him. The man was illiterate. Illiterate indeed.

Aiden’s eyes widened, then narrowed, heat flickering in his chest.

’ohhhhh....Finally... finally, the garrison is in shambles. Now I can take over more easily, using Cathe..’ he thought in wild expectations.

John added, almost as an afterthought: "Oh yeah. I also heard... you’re transferred to the garrison for a while."

Crack.

The expectation broke, right then and there.

"....what?"

[ Transmuting Finished, Your New skill is ready to use.]