Surprised that nothing happened after the demon’s death, I chose to observe Eriavel a little longer. Karla was busy working on Amon’s request, writing down various notes on magic. I didn’t want to pull her into my dominion yet, because she would stop the moment I told her she was meant to enter the dungeon.
So while I waited for her, I observed the scattering crowd. Tekla’s little spectacle had a stronger effect than I expected. The velmoryns were in complete ecstasy after hearing her words. It had even deepened their faith in me. Perhaps declaring a common enemy, with me as their protector, had that effect. Or perhaps velmoryns simply craved blood, and that need had just been fed.
Either way, I welcomed it.
More importantly, I was impressed by Tekla. A week ago, she had doubted her leadership and even rejected the authority she held over Eriavel, claiming they needed someone better suited for it. But now… now she had declared a holy war.
“Priestess,” Othrien called. He had been following Tekla in silence, trying to catch up, but her pace was much faster. The old man, who relied on his magic staff to walk, had no chance of matching her.
Tekla stopped and turned. A few velmoryns who had been following her also stopped, keeping some distance.
It took Othrien a few moments to reach her, his breath slightly heavy, his face flushed.
“May we speak?” he asked after taking a deep breath.
Tekla glanced at the velmoryns nearby. They bowed and stepped away.
“Why… was it High Father’s order?” Othrien asked. After seeing confusion in Tekla’s eyes, he added. “The declaration of war.”
“No. Should Father teach us to punish those who have treated His generosity as dirt? Who have betrayed Him and now seek to slaughter our kin?” Tekla spoke in a low voice, but her tone, flared nostrils and tight brows betrayed her anger.
“Priestess…” Othrien paused. He took no offense at her tone, nor would he have shown it even if he had. “War brings death. More blood. Revenge may feel right, but we will be the ones who pay the price.”
“Peace also comes after war. And war will come to us regardless of what we do. The only choice is how we meet it—with our heads held high, proud that Father stands with us, or bowed like cowards.”
Tekla stepped closer.
“I have had doubts recently. Am I doing what I should as a Priestess? Am I handling the responsibility Father gave me?”
She paused. Her expression softened, her lips curling into a small smile.
“But then I realized. I was chosen by Father Himself. And our Lord knows no wrong. I, the first Priestess of our people, will devote my life to spreading His name and ensuring His children thrive. That is how I must serve Him and serve our people.”
Othrien could have given a response that was reasonable, perhaps even one that would make Tekla reconsider. He could have said that while her heart was in the right place, it might be wrong to slaughter everyone who had chosen to follow Akrion. And pay for that slaughter with velmoryn blood.
But he didn’t.
“May High Father protect our Priestess and our people,” he murmured, tracing my symbol on his chest. “I am but an old velmoryn who wishes to spend his remaining decades in peace. But you, young ones, must think of the future. And I will do everything I can to support you. That, I promise, Priestess.”
Tekla nodded and traced my symbol as well.
“May Father embrace you when the time comes.”
“With your prayers and guidance, Priestess,” Othrien bowed slightly.
I knew Othrien was not a true believer. Obviously, he acknowledged my existence and called me Lord, but unlike most velmoryns, my will was not his highest priority. It was the well-being of his people. And I didn’t mind that. As long as he worked for the sake of velmoryns, he was doing my work.
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“Priestess,” he said just as Tekla turned to leave. “I almost forgot—I had a small request. Age spares no mind. Even mine.”
Tekla chuckled softly, shaking her head.
“I have no doubt Father would bless you with a few more centuries.”
“I already feel better,” Othrien straightened and joined her laughter. The refreshing moment lasted until he coughed as if to clear his throat. “The request I meant to make… may I present my candidate to lead Eriavel?”
Tekla considered his words for a long moment, then she nodded.
“A velmoryn who has earned your trust… I am certain they will not disappoint us.”
“Thank you, Priestess!” Othrien bowed slightly. “I shall not take more of your time. Praise be to High Father!”
“Praise be to High Father,” Tekla echoed, tracing my symbol once more.
Seeing how the old fox had played Tekla, I was reminded once again that for all her spirit and talent, she was still too young. In the human world, she would be considered an old hag, very close to immortal, but for velmoryns, she was little more than a teenager. If not for my blessing, she wouldn’t have been allowed even to join the campaign and fight.
I considered cursing Othrien with a minor misfortune for playing my priestess. However, I quickly dismissed the thought. Not only would it be petty, but punishing him for being a capable politician felt wrong. At least until his actions served himself rather than the community.
Scanning Eriavel, I found nothing of interest. Aside from Gundir working on candles, everything was quiet. Filled with determination, the velmoryns had gone back to work and rarely even spoke with each other. Well, except when they swore to slaughter the demons if they ever saw them.
So I decided to pull Karla into my dominion. Instead of letting her handwrite the entire guidebook, I would use my divinity to extract her knowledge.
The next moment, the elf materialized in front of the God of Velmoryn and fell as the chair she had been sitting on did not come with her.
She came to her senses instantly and rose to one knee.
“Praise be to High Father,” she said awkwardly, pulling her long, bright scarlet hair back. Her cheeks were flushed from embarrassment.
No matter how many times I saw her, I couldn’t get used to her red hair. Perhaps it was my image of elves. Either way, it felt out of place.
“Amon warned me that You would summon me.”
She was already thinking about the knowledge she wanted to pass on.
Karla was the only elf whose thoughts I had read, so I wasn’t sure if it was racial, but her mind was fascinating. Unlike velmoryns, she was far more confident, even in my presence, and she rarely accepted anything I said without analyzing it first.
That meant I had to be careful with her. Not to reveal too much.
Still, having such a capable believer was pleasing.
My divinity surrounded her and shaped a book in front of her. Letters filled its pages, appearing one after another. In moments, she had passed down three books’ worth of information.
Then she stopped.
I quickly created a copy of all three books and handed them to Karla.
“To teach the children of Eriavel,” I said.
“Thank You, Father.” She stored all six books in her Veilspace.
As she did, I caught a glimpse of her storage dimension as it opened. If I wanted to, I could have interfered. I was curious what she kept inside, but asking felt beneath my status, and the moment passed too quickly for me to see anything.
“I have a gift for you, child.”
I sent the vision into her mind, showing the dungeon and the elven script beside it—ⴍⴌⴊⴈ ⴓⴀⴌ ⴘⴄⴊ ⴔⴀⴑ.
Initially, I had planned to tell her to enter the dungeon and explore it. It was a safer option than sending velmoryns, who were much weaker than her, and there was no chance I would allow Amon to step into any dungeon. I was not going to lose another vessel. Besides, letting Karla enter would have served as a reward.
But as the vision settled in her mind, I realized she already knew the place.
“Only one shall pass.” Sadly, that one cannot be me. Only Gold or below can pass through the portal… ah, how many times have I tried lowering my Rank, but tricking elvish magic is impossible… Does Father know of the restriction? Should I tell Him? No… Mother always said not to assume anything before a deity.”
Listening to Karla’s thoughts felt like reading a book. They were methodical and structured. Strangely so.
“You may decide who enters, child. The place is connected to the Goddess of Elves. I shall respect Her child’s wishes.”
Karla’s eyes filled with tears as she traced my symbol on her chest.
“Thank You, Father!”
I felt I should reward her for her diligence—handling the eggs, teaching Amon, and now this. But nothing came to mind. Giving her an artifact would have been pointless. She already had a staff created by Sophia. Surpassing that would not be simple.
Perhaps another griffin… elves did ride them.
In the end, I decided to wait. I would reward her once the eggs hatched. It would also make it clear just how valuable those creatures were, and the velmoryns would take proper care of them.
Her figure was swallowed by scarlet energy, and she returned to the mortal world.
I was alone once again, but I had no time to get bored. I needed to choose what kind of technology to introduce to the velmoryns. The thread I had dedicated to sorting my memories from Earth had already finished its work.