While The Elder and his companions were frozen in this unchanging state, their surroundings had undergone tremendous change as the Great Work was getting closer and closer to completion.

The Great Work was the species most ambitious project to date, and it had started long before the Great Blessing, all the way back when the second fragment of the jade butterfly of fate had been discovered. This time they had found one of the defined fragments, portraying a rune Avery now understood to be vaguely related to the concept of an illuminating flame.

They had at first tried to find a use for it, wishing for it to revolutionize their society like the Mystery had, but they found it mostly useless. While it had its own unique abilities, it had a much more restricted powerset, and the Sil'piceus saw no use for fire or light.

Years passed until a Sil'piceus, who was assisting the Priestess as a novice, found a way to link the new rune with the Mystery, setting the Great Work in motion.

Obviously, the Mystery was the best and the most suited for the Sil'piceus, and all the other rune fragments were inferior. Since that was the case, it was not worth exhausting themselves trying to use these inferior goods. Instead, they should link them to the mystery, and force them to offer their power up to their obviously superior counterpart.

Upon realizing they could greatly improve the Mystery this way, and that it was repeatable, their adventurous spirit burst out in full force. They might not have been so enthusiastic in powering up any other foreign tool, but each Sil'piceus had a very personal relationship with the Great Rune, cultivated through their martial arts.

There were many intricacies to martial arts, but most people recognized three major stages. You first had to train your spirit and body, with no mention of any supernatural abilities. It was only once you had cultivated one of those aspects to a certain point that you would be considered an adult, and undergo a warrior's ceremony, branding your body or spirit with the mark of the Mystery, and condense a personal rune.

This personal rune let you access the powers of the Mystery everywhere and everytime, although the power was greatly diminished. It started out very weak, but as you practiced and fed with blood or insight, it grew closer and closer to the real thing, until you could call the full force of the Great Rune upon your enemies.

It was even rumored the third stage was to completely fuse yourself with your personal rune and become an extension of the Great Rune, but those that had reached this state were incredibly rare.

Excited by the prospect of a quick power boost, and under the guidance of the still active Elder, who had used his strange power to determine the number and approximate location of the 2998 other runes, countless expeditions were started, and the Sil'piceus trails covered the world.

Many of their kind died of thirst and starvation, of natural disasters and unfortunate accidents, and even in battle as they fought each other for the glory of returning home successfully. Despite the unprecedented high mortality rate, their fervor never diminished, as each time a new rune was brought home, they could feel the Mystery, and by extension themselves, grow in power and importance.

They soon determined that they could find two kinds of runes. If they returned with an undefined fragment, then it was a simple matter to press it against the Mystery, and it would naturally be absorbed, making it more powerful. It would heal them faster and better, make them stronger, cover a larger area, and basically improve in every single way.

On the other hand, if they returned with an already defined rune, who already had set identity and powers, then things would be more complicated. They needed to first study it and determine what its powers were, before including them in their proper place in the blood formation and letting them complement the Mystery.

This was a very troublesome process, but it was also extremely rewarding. While an undefined fragment would give the Mystery more power, linking these runes up would add their power to the mystery and render anyone capable of using it easily.

The Sil-piceus had always been at the peak of the food chain, but with this new development, they were no longer restricted by the limits of flesh, becoming capable of casting fireballs, freezing enemies or levitating. They even discovered teleportation, although it was too costly and imprecise to use from a personal rune. Once they had learned water manipulation, even their most fearsome enemy, thirst, was vanquished.

The Sil'piceus reigned supreme, and even nature had to bow to their whim.

Although their population was slowly diminishing, each Sil'piceus was a warlord capable of moving mountains and parting the sea, so it was a price well worth paying. Even amongst those concerned by the lack of young, few were ready to go through the trouble of producing offspring.

The Sil'piceus did not breed, but they procreated through asexual reproduction, which involved give up one of their tentacles, along with its commanding brain, and let it grow into a separate individual. The tentacle would regrow, but the brain would not, leaving them forever a diminished individual.

This sacrifice of processing power for offspring used to be necessary for the survival of their species, to have enough members to be able to beat the odds and leave their mark on the world, but now that a careful Sil'piceus could live on for eternity, such things were unnecessary.

It was said that this was one of the reasons for the tense relationship between the Elder and the Priestess. He had given up a brain to birth her, believing she would grow up to be smarter than him, and better able to help their species. She was certainly smart and talented enough to earn herself a Title, but rumors claimed he was still disappointed. He believed he had made a mistake, and that their species would have been better off if he had kept his full intellectual powers. In his mind, one genius was better than two smart individuals.

He never treated her badly, too afraid of making her even more a waste of resources, but there was no love in his careful ministration. She was raised to be perfect, and every aspect of her life was carefully optimized to minimize the loss his mistake had cost the species.

This mathematical approach to childbearing bore great results, as the Priestess made many accomplishments and even before earning her Title, but this did not bring her happiness.

Nothing she did ever satisfied the Elder, and he was never truly impressed. He might congratulate her for a job well done, but deep down, she was still disappointing him. He did not want her to accomplish his bidding perfectly, he wanted her to improve his vision. If she was doing something he could think of, no matter how well, then she was still an inferior product. He had raised her to surpass him, not to be a tool.

The Elder noticed that the pressure and lack of affection was wearing her down, but he did not care. As far as he was concerned, such shallow suffering was nothing compared to the illustrious mark he was making her etch in history. He regretted not having the same upbringing, and the only reason he was not doing that to everyone was because of his limited time and energy.