Promoted to "Mentor of Chaos" (Sent early, 2900 words)

Gulp.

The pitch-black potion entered his mouth, suddenly as pungent as Helas Volt, then, in the next instant, as sour and rotten as Herud's melted corpse...

The indistinguishable, chaotic stench made Nimrod nauseous enough to vomit.

The potion wriggled rapidly, chaotic green spots and red light churning in an instant as they dropped into his stomach.

Floating shards of glass suddenly rose like willow catkins.

They abruptly gathered together, then scattered again.

They tumbled without order, chaotic and impossible to distinguish.

Blood mist tangled with purple silk, sometimes coalescing into ribbons, then suddenly scattering into blood-colored threads.

The golden staircase decayed at high speed, wrinkling into thin sheets.

The gilded coating bubbled and peeled away.

Every part of Nimrod's body felt as if worms were burrowing in.

His spine creaked, and a mist of vision wrapped around his body.

Sticky tentacles surged through his mind, whipping at clusters of writhing worms and piercing tail needles.

Explosions rang out one after another, striking his brain numb and freezing his thoughts stiff.

Then, the chaotic sounds of Terra poured messily into his ears.

In his mind, tentacles, worms, and tail needles crossed past one another, yet, bizarrely, never collided.

The firelight reflected in his pitch-black eyes merged with the red spots, and amid the rippling green patterns, the trembling of his spine subsided.

The threads of rules twisted, and black fog surged.

I can actively mobilize the black fog, seep it into reality, and truly pry loose the power of the Kingdom of Disorder.

Nimrod's heart brimmed with joy. In his mind, he outlined disorderly black arcs, followed by the surrounding wings, spikes, and the abstract crown above.

As he drew back the overflowing power of the potion, the chaotically tangled glass fragments crackled and fell to the floor.

The gilded throne