I didn’t waste any time waiting for V to return with blueprints. I already had a plan in mind - getting Karla to start hatching the eggs was my priority.
I focused on the invisible threads connecting me to my believers. A surge of pride swelled within me as I felt thousands of souls, all heavy with piety.
They lacked this devotion before…
Even if the Velmoryns were lawful and feared the deities, they were innately cynical creatures. Only after converting thousands did I understand how fortunate I was in gaining Roy as my first believer. If I hadn't found Roy, if he hadn't sacrificed his life to awaken Orrvyn, my path might have ended before it even began.
I narrowed my focus on the connection I shared with my only Elf believer.
Her hair, once a blonde bordering on silver, now burned red, vibrant as a lick of fire. That single detail had changed her entire presence. If Karla seemed kind and approachable before, now she looked feisty and dignified.
Yet, what remained the same were her eyes - warm and caring.
“Karla, is this correct?” Ninali asked, shaping a blazing diagram in the air.
The runes flared one by one until they formed a perfect circle, casting a harsh red light on her face. The blaze deepened the shadows, making the scar on her right cheek look even more grotesque.
Just as the diagram formed, it flickered violently and shattered. Ninali grimaced and leaned forward, clutching her abdomen as the backlash hit her.
“Magic and haste are incompatible, Ninali. First, you must learn to control your own emotions, and only then will you be able to master fire.”
Karla’s hand began to shimmer with silver light, an aura that carried a profound warmth. She placed her hand over Ninali’s back and let the light seep into her, slowly calming the trembling mage.
“I don’t have as much time, Karla. I must become strong. And soon. I must prove to High Father…”
“No,” Karla interjected, voice soft but firm. “If you wish to speak, then tell the truth. Do not force lies, or you will lose yourself in the web of your own doing.”
Ninali bit her lip. She looked away, unable to meet Karla’s gaze. A long moment passed before she made her decision.
“Thank you,” she whispered, straightening her posture.
Karla didn’t press the issue. She raised her palm and shaped the same diagram Ninali had attempted. Hers formed instantly, complex and stable, glowing with silver light.
“Memorize it,” she said, keeping her hand extended.
“When you are done teaching her, I’ll bring you to my kingdom,” I whispered into her mind.
I could have pulled her in immediately, but there was no need to rush. Ninali was a devoted believer, and her growth benefited me as well.
Karla froze. The diagram flickered above her palm, threatening to collapse, but she steadied herself instantly, repairing the magical circle before it could break.
“Yes, High Father,” she whispered.
I shifted my focus to Tekla.
Seeing her stand before the temple, with dozens of Velmoryns hanging on her every word, I understood why their devotion had deepened. All this time, while I slept, Tekla had worked tirelessly to strengthen the bond between the Velmoryns and their god.
Maybe I should reward her…
“Priestess, Priestess…”
A small, chirping voice broke the hold Tekla’s voice had over the silence.
The crowd turned, their expressions mixed. Some looked angry and stern, others amused. But Tekla didn’t mind.
A girl ran into the temple, her bare feet slapping against the hard floor. She rushed toward Tekla but stopped short when she reached the Velmoryns. No one moved to let her pass.
“Mel, come,” Tekla said with a warm smile. Her tone broke the tension instantly, erasing the anger from the crowd’s eyes.
She held absolute control.
The crowd split, creating a corridor. The girl resumed her run, skipping toward Tekla with tears streaming from her sparkling eyes.
“Priestess, I did it!” Mel cried, hugging Tekla’s legs and burying her face in the folds of her dress. “I created a new spell!”
Even though the tears muffled her voice, everyone understood her words.
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The crowd went still. To claim a new spell was no small feat. I had been the God of the Velmoryns for over a year, yet I hadn't seen a single one of them create a new magical concept, let alone a functioning spell.
Tekla gently pulled the child back and wiped her tears away with her thumb.
“Mel, I am proud of you,” she said, kissing her on the forehead. “Can you show us?”
“No, I don’t want to show them.” She pointed a finger and glared at the Velmoryns, who instinctively looked away.
“Mel?” Tekla asked, tilting her head.
The girl shrugged uncomfortably, as if forced into something she despised. But in the end, she obliged.
She rolled up her sleeve and presented her arm.
She was bleeding.
A rune was carved directly into her flesh. The cuts weren't deep, nor was the bleeding heavy, but the sight made Tekla gasp. She dropped to a crouch beside her and pressed the hem of her dress against the wound, her eyes turning fierce.
“Did you do this to yourself?” she asked, voice firm.
“Yes. This was the only way…”
“Mel, you must never engrave runes on yourself. It is dangerous.” Tekla pressed the girl’s head against her chest.
I felt a pull on my Divinity; Tekla was trying to call upon my power to heal her. But Mel slipped out of her grasp, her brows furrowed.
“No! I worked hard! At least let me show it to you!”
Tekla hesitated. That brief pause was all Mel needed to channel her mana into the rune.
Violent scarlet energy erupted from her arm. It surged upward like a liquid tide, rising to Mel’s height before curving inward to form a perfect sphere. The barrier swirled and flowed around her in a constant, spinning motion.
Inside, Mel crossed her arms, grinning.
“Now I need someone to cast a spell on me,” she declared. Though her triumphant expression quickly collapsed into an awkward smile. “But not a powerful one. It still fails sometimes.”
A few considered volunteering but hesitated, unsure if they should trust a child’s experimental magic. Eventually, every eye landed on Tekla, awaiting her decision.
Tekla wavered. She wanted to verify the spell, but the risk of injury was real.
“Please, Priestess. Trust me,” Mel pleaded.
Unlike Tekla, I saw no danger. Unlike mortals, my perception went deeper than the surface. I could feel the structure of the spell - it was steady, the mana flowing in a perfect, stable loop around the girl.
“You may use my power if needed,” I whispered into her mind.
Tekla froze. Her eyes glistened, sudden moisture gathering on her lashes.
“Father,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I feared I had angered you… that I had lost your lo… favor.”
She stood there for a moment, overwhelmed by the connection she thought she had severed. But the weight of the crowd’s gaze eventually pulled her back to reality. She blinked away the tears and straightened her posture, regaining her composure.
“Cast the weakest offensive spell,” she ordered.
“We will also need a healer,” Mel added with a grin. Seeing Tekla’s brow furrow, she explained quickly, “Not for me. My barrier reflects the spell back.”
Tekla nodded. The tribe had gained several new healers, and with my permission granted, she could intervene herself if the wound proved serious.
A female Velmoryn stepped forward. She shaped a small diagram containing only four runes. The circle shimmered cyan, mist rising from its surface.
A snowball formed, smaller than an adult’s fist. It began to compress, but the mage quickly added a stabilizing rune to halt the process.
Then, the snowball flew. Whether by design or lack of power, the projectile moved slowly, allowing the crowd to trace its arc with ease.
It struck the barrier’s surface and sank into the red sphere like a stone dropped in water. The red energy surrounding Mel bubbled, then burst outward, firing a crimson ball back toward the mage.
It moved faster, too fast for the mortal eye to track.
It slammed into the mage’s shoulder, staggering her. She grimaced, though the impact seemed only slightly stronger than her original cast.
This is too similar to Mother’s Embrace. What a strange coincidence…
Mel stood inside the fading barrier, a smug smile plastered on her face. The spell slowly collapsed, the flowing energy turning translucent before dissolving into nothingness.
She had truly created a new spell.
It was time I made my grand return. I needed to reward those with the potential to push the Velmoryn civilization forward, and who better than the child who had just invented a new spell?
I considered blessing her. It would have been the most direct reward, creating the grand spectacle I used to crave. But I was no longer desperate for cheap awe.
Besides, a blessing also had a heavy disadvantage.
I could safely bless a Velmoryn only once; every subsequent attempt brought exponential risk. Mel wasn’t even Silver Rank and she would likely reach Gold on her own. If I waited until she hit her natural limit, my blessing would push her far beyond it. That was how I would maximize her potential.
But what should I give her now?
I possessed three magical manuals, but they were far too dangerous to release without extensive reworking. Other than that, my inventory was empty.
So, I decided to craft an artifact. Not a weapon or armor, but one capable of storing mana.
Her biggest limitation as a child was her small mana capacity; this would bridge that gap.
I need an artifact that stores mana and can be recharged. But it must be bound to Mel. She cannot rely on others to fill it for her.
No such item existed in the tribe. So I was certain it would impress everyone, proving that I rewarded innovation. This way, I would not only help Mel but also promote creativity and hard work.
I am becoming the opposite of what I initially planned. An unknown god…
I was amused. My mood, sour since the visit to the Pantheon, finally lifted. I felt a spark of genuine excitement as I began to channel my Divine Power into the mortal world.
But then, a red light flashed before my eyes and my entire realm trembled.
[Warning!]
As an ascended deity, you may no longer directly influence the mortal realm without paying a price.
Cost: 500 Divinity Points.