Tekla’s body was still suspended in midair when I reached for her Status Window.
I was mostly curious about her Class and mana, but more than that, I wanted to know how she had managed to increase her Rank without relying directly on my divinity.
Based on what I knew, velmoryn Ranks increased either when they consumed enough Essences for their attributes to pass a certain threshold, or when I granted them a blessing myself. But in Tekla’s case, she had begun ascending completely unexpectedly, as if nothing had provoked it.
Nothing except her decision to become less dependent on me.
What if that resolve had actually triggered her ascension, and those crimson pulses had provided her with the divinity she needed? Mortal souls were raw divine power, after all. Technically, if Tekla had somehow managed to harness even a tiny portion of my believers’ souls, she might have been able to transform that power into divinity.
I grew even more curious when her Status Window flashed before my eyes.
To my disappointment, however, even though her attributes had grown, her mana remained at 1, and her Class was still listed as [Priestess]. She had not even gained any new skills, though her proficiency had increased in old ones.
Just then, Tekla’s body gently descended to the ground. Her eyes remained unfocused as she stared at the velmoryns for a short moment.
Then she blinked.
A brief smile crossed her face as she turned around and stopped a step away from the corpses. She reached for her staff and closed her eyes, focusing on a single thought that came to me like a whisper.
“Father, accept our fallen kin into Your kingdom and bestow upon us Your blessing…”
I felt a pull on my divinity.
Unlike before, when Tekla needed my consent to use my power, she now managed to draw on it freely. I could feel that if I wanted to, I could sever her ability to channel my divinity, but she could definitely draw on it without my permission.
Crimson flooded her. Her body shimmered as her veins bulged from the overwhelming source of power surging through her. Strands of Tekla’s long white hair bled crimson, while the markings on her face grew and pulsed.
Is she transforming?
I was no longer worried about my divinity. Even if the Night God could somehow see what was happening in Eriavel, he would not connect Tekla’s state to mine. She was clearly drawing power from within herself. It was not being channeled into her the way it had been when I directly gave her strength.
It was a mesmerizing sight.
Both for me and for the velmoryns.
They watched in awe, no longer puzzled by the strange sensation they had felt a moment earlier, when Tekla had unconsciously and accidentally drawn a tiny part of their souls and used it as fuel for her ascension.
They gasped in unison when my divinity surrounded the corpses and began drawing out their life force, forming an Essence above each body.
Green threads reached out from the fallen velmoryns, twisting together with crimson ones until they merged and formed small spheres.
Some darkened into violet, while others grew more vibrant, turning green or teal. The Essences were all the same size, but their types were different, their nature decided by the velmoryn whose life force had shaped them.
But despite the Essences appearing perfect at first glance, I knew the balance within them was broken. If too much divinity was channeled into the Essences, it would be no different from granting a blessing, and that could become lethal for those who had already received one from me.
So I focused on the Essences still forming above the corpses and separated the excess divinity. It was only a fraction of my power, so little that I did not particularly care that Tekla had wasted it.
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For a moment, I considered gathering the excess divinity together and creating something new. Even if I was restricted from channeling my power directly into the mortal realm, I could still manipulate any trace of my divinity that already existed there.
Technically, I could create an artifact. Or even a tree that would transform velmoryn corpses into fuel for its growth and produce fruits that acted as Essences. I did not fear the system’s punishment, and I doubted there was much chance Noah would believe I was the one manipulating the divinity rather than my priestess, who was clearly using my power.
But I still decided not to take the risk.
I had not lied to Tekla and risked my entire reputation only to jeopardize the plan for the sake of saving a few Divinity Points.
Despite that thought, I could not help watching with a pained expression as the crimson energy I had isolated from the spheres faded away.
Almost at the same time, Tekla finished forming the Essences. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at them with barely concealed excitement. Despite all the responsibilities she had shouldered and her usual seriousness, deep down, she was still a young girl who could be easily swept along by her emotions.
The Essences followed her will as the lingering divinity carried them to the grieving families. Tekla watched as wives, husbands, mothers, and sons accepted them, clutching the final remnants of their loved ones close to their hearts.
She allowed them a moment of quiet before addressing the gathered velmoryns.
The crimson shimmer around her body faded, and the markings on her face returned to their old patterns. The crimson strands in her hair disappeared as well, turning white as snow once more.
“We paid a heavy price, but we won,” she said. “Yet that battle was hardly the last. Father warned us that the enemy would not show their full strength. Our foe is deceitful and cunning. They have no love for their children and no mercy for our kind. To them, we are meant to die, and the only obstacle they see standing in their way is our Lord.”
The momentary relief the velmoryns had felt after witnessing Tekla wield what they called God’s mana vanished at once, their bodies tensing as her words settled over them.
“But they are wrong,” Tekla continued. Her eyes met the gazes of the velmoryns before her, each one piercing, but still reverent. “We will not cower and ask Father to protect us. We will not hide behind weakness and call it caution. It is time we proved to our Lord how fiercely the flame of devotion burns in our hearts. It is time we proved to ourselves why we deserve life, why a race created to destroy another deserves a path of its own. We may have been created as a weapon, but even a weapon may choose what it protects. ”
She raised her staff slightly, her fingers tightening around the shaft.
“We are not elves, and we are not demons. We are velmoryns! We are velmoryns of Eriavel. We will protect our home with all we have!”
The velmoryns roared, their eyes burning.
Some cut their palms and let blood drip onto the earth from tightly clenched fists, swearing eternal oaths to me as long as I guided them to victory. Others made no requests at all, only claiming they would die if needed so long as Eriavel survived.
One way or another, the velmoryns had resolved themselves to face death if it meant their race and their home would endure.
For the first time, they were anchoring themselves not only to faith or blood, but to the settlement they had built together.
Eriavel was truly becoming a home the velmoryns were ready to die for.
Interesting…
Perhaps because I knew Tekla’s words had been carefully weighed and chosen, rather than spoken in a moment of raw emotion, I could not fully feel their weight. Because of that, the way the velmoryns reacted seemed strange to me.
I was not ignorant of zeal and a sense of belonging, nor of how a crowd could turn an ordinary moment into something unforgettable.
But I still could not understand how a person could become willing to die for something.
Unlike when I had first become a god, when I did not care about my believers and had even hoped some of them would die soon so I could test what would happen, I now cared for every single one of them.
I cared a lot.
I was willing to spend an enormous amount of divinity to avoid their deaths. While that was beneficial to me as well, I could not deny that the thought of my believers dying deeply troubled me.
And yet, despite the attachment I had developed, whether through the system’s influence, personal relationships, or my Authority itself, there was no chance I would be willing to die for them.
Not if I had a choice.
No matter how selfish it sounded, I would not have sacrificed my life for all of them together. My existence was the most valuable thing to me.
So why were the velmoryns so eager to forfeit their lives for the sake of their race? Why were none of them hesitating? Why were none of them considering betrayal, or escape, or simply choosing themselves?
For a brief moment, I even wondered if the kind of heroism I had seen in movies and read about in books was simply more common in this world.
Then I saw Nelya.
She was staring at Tekla with a venomous gaze, unable to hide her emotions. Biting down on her lower lip, she turned around and walked toward her home.
And then, as if they had agreed on it beforehand, several more velmoryns followed her.
To my disappointment and surprise, Freya was one of them.