Board & Conquest: A Godly LitRPG

Name	Mistouffe, Intrepid Cat
Type	Humanoid/Beast
Rank	1
Class	Werecat 1 (Monster)
Faction	Wepwawet
Movement	Walk

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Strength	Agility	Vitality	Skill
1	14	2	12
Magic	Intelligence	Charisma	Luck
4	9	8	13
Accuracy	+12	Evasion	+13

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Innate Perk: Seven Lives

Enemies cannot inflict critical hits on you.

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Pawsome Landing I
Fall damage is halved.

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Wepwawet quickly reviewed his Champions. Lourson was pretty much what Wepwawet expected from an anthropomorphic bear: a fur-tank on legs. Nonetheless, it was his blacksmith skills that would likely prove the most useful for now. Mistouffe was the complete opposite; fast, quick to dodge, and fragile. Alpine the weregoat's knowledge of basic concoctions and healing poultices made her too valuable to risk in the field, since nobody else in Narc had any knowledge of treating wounds. Wepwawet would have preferred a magical healer, but he would play with the cards given to him.

As for the wererabbit… his incredible Late Bloomer ability would inevitably make up for his pitiful stats over time. That one had a lot of potential.

"I don't feel any different," Mistouffe complained. "Where's the magic?"

You'll need a lot more experience first, Wepwawet thought, though he had another play in mind for that one. "Then I shall bestow upon you the gifts of speed and tongues!"

Revelation Miracles allowed a god to permanently imbue a Champion with new abilities, and he had two in reserves. Wepwawet cast both of them on the werecat, his magic striking her like a lightning bolt and infusing her soul with new power.

Mistouffe has learned the Translation and Longstrider I Perks!

Translation: can understand and speak any language.

Longstrider I: grants +2 AGI.

Wepwawet noticed that Mistouffe's Evasion had risen by one point too, which meant Agility influenced that stat… he kept that fact in mind for later.

"Whoa…" Mistouffe hopped on her feet, her new power slightly hastening her movements. "It's true, I feel quicker now!"

"Your battles will be waged with words, not swords." Wepwawet didn't think she had what it took to wield those anyway. "You must share what happened here, Mistouffe, to all the settlements you can reach; our covenant, the magmorians' treacherous attack, and the calamity to come. Invite everyone willing to see this land prosper to visit Narc. You will also keep your ears open for any useful information. I see far, but not everywhere."

Wepwawet followed through by casting his two remaining Sacred Beast Miracles. A second and third spirit-wolf appeared next to the first, much to the mortals' amazement.

Creatures conjured through Miracles were direct emanations of a god's mana and thus unable to become Champions or worshipers, nor could they rank up. Otherwise, they didn't need to eat or drink, nor did they come with an expiration date. Sacred Beasts weren't unique creatures either, so Wepwawet could afford to summon new ones each day once the card limit renewed itself. Compared to most higher-rank Miracles, which usually focused on calling unique creatures that couldn't be duplicated, this quantity provided a quality of its own. Having them hunt and scout on the village's behalf would let him assign villagers to other tasks.

"One of these holy beasts shall be your protector and proof of your words," Wepwawet said. "It will shield you from danger and assist you on your journey."

"Awesome!" Mistouffe nodded so fast that even Wepwawet's divine senses struggled to follow her chin. "You can count on me, wolf-boss!"

Wepwawet liked the title, so he let it pass this time. "I have many tasks for the rest of you," he said. "The magmorians will likely return soon and you'll need to prepare yourselves for battle. The heavens help those who help themselves, so no slackers!"

Wepwawet's plan to develop Narc revolved around five pillars: securing long-term logistics, building fortifications and infrastructure, producing equipment, training its people, and laying the foundations of a strong economic backbone.

There was no time to waste.

And like that, Victoire found herself in charge of Narc's defenses.

The village never had a governing structure, nor needed one due to its small population; its people simply handled matters through casual conversations and the occasional gathering. She didn't feel entirely confident about this duty, but tried her best to look confident for the sake of everyone else.

Lord Wepwawet warned them of the magmorians' inevitable return and distributed tasks to everyone. Some didn't change much from people's usual occupations, with fishermen like Laurent and old Géraud being sent to gather game, Lourson forging new equipment, and Alpine tending to their wounded and stockpiling food for emergencies.

Others were assigned new jobs like digging wells in specific spots or gathering wood under wolf escort to build more fortifications. Poor Marcel in particular had been given a grueling tunneling task in the mines. Victoire questioned the wisdom of assigning that task to a werepenguin of all people, but her new god worked in mysterious ways.

After gathering builders at the village's entrance, Lord Wepwawet shaped a small wooden wall from nothing to replace their old makeshift fortifications. This new one was adorned with spikes whose purpose was likely to stop cavalry.

"Follow that design and dig ditches," Lord Wepwawet ordered. "Ditches are a good defense's backbone. Dig trenches, raise some earth on our side of the divide, then put the wall on top of that. You'll have to build two layers."

"Two? With spikes on top of the ditches?" Toni the mason asked. Victoire had been taught the basics of fortifications during her time among the Glarmes, but most villagers never built anything more complex than a palisade. "Sir, with all due respect, isn't that a little excessive?"

"It's not," Victoire replied. "The magmorians brought a wyrm last time and it smashed through barricades like a ram. By digging ditches in front of the new walls and raising up the latter, the magmorians will have to fill the trenches up first to reach the walls at all; a time during which they'll be exposed to our spears and arrows."

Victoire sensed her god's inquisitive gaze on her. "Quite astute, Victoire. Where did you learn such things?"

He didn't know? So even gods weren't all-seeing. "I once served in a military order called the Glarmes, my lord," she replied. "I learned how to hold a fort during that time."

"You were taught well," Lord Wepwawet complimented her before turning his gaze back to Toni. "Do you wish for these magmorians to cut their way through your home like a knife through butter, mortal?"

"Ugh…" Toni cleared his throat in embarrassment. "No, sir, 'course not. It's just that my house was burned during the attack, so…"

"There will be time to rebuild it after we ensure it'll never be burned again," Lord Wepwawet replied sternly. "Until then, I ask that you put your community first."

"I'll arrange for Alpine to host you until we can repair your house," Victoire promised the mason. "You have my word."

With the matter settled, one of Lord Wepwawet's wolves soon traced a line in the earth with his paw as per its god's instructions to show the fortifications' layout. Any enemy trying to invade such a place would bleed for every inch of progress.

Finally, the task of training everyone for battle fell to Victoire. She requested at least two hours of a day's worth of drilling for each villager capable of wielding a weapon, which her new god consented to.

"I leave it to you to organize everybody's schedule and watch duties," Lord Wepwawet told her. "I can see far and wide, but chance favors the prepared mind!"

Odd. Victoire could have sworn that the last part sounded like the quote of another rather than the god's own words.

"As you wish, Lord Wepwawet," she said without raising the issue. "May I suggest we focus our efforts on spears and bows? Lourson will have an easier time forging arrowheads and spearheads, and the magmorians raiders also appeared to favor melee combat. Exploiting the terrain would let us strike them from a safe distance."

"I see you have a tactician's instincts, Victoire," the deity complimented her. "I agree. Both these weapons lend themselves well to hunting too, so we'll kill two birds with one stone."

Something bothered her about Lord Wepwawet. He was truly powerful and undoubtedly talented, but he sounded less confident than Victoire would expect from an ancient deity. Like he had to prove himself somehow.

Maybe she was simply imagining things. She doubted a mortal like her could ever fully understand an entity capable of creating life from nothing.

With her new task at hand, Victoire moved to say goodbye to Mistouffe. The werecat was busy being embraced into her mother's tight hug while her father and wolf companion watched.

"Mom… you're choking me…" Mistouffe complained. Victoire noticed that she carried a travel bag that looked almost too big for her. "Please let me go…"

"Oh darling…" Her poor mother reluctantly released her hold on her daughter. "I know this task came from Grand-Loup himself, but I can't help but worry for you…"

"She already accompanied me on many trips across the snowlands," her husband reassured her. "She knows the wilderness like the back of her paw."

"I'll be fine, Mom," Mistouffe insisted with a wide smirk. "I was gonna go leave to become an itinerant merchant one day anyway, and I've got a god on my side now!"

Her mother let out a sigh. "Alright, but swear to me that you'll be careful."

"I swear on all my paws!" Mistouffe giddily replied. "Thanks, Ma. Thanks, Pa."

"Your daughter will achieve wonders one day," Victoire said upon joining the conversation. "I have an additional task for you, Mistouffe, if you feel up to it."

"Of course, Vicky!" she replied without hesitation. The nickname brought a chuckle from Victoire. "What do you have in mind?"

"Have you visited the trading post near the Boisblanc forest?" Victoire asked, earning herself a nod of assent. "A human by the name of Kale regularly visits it for supplies. I would like you to deliver him a letter if you find him there."

"Sure, it's on my itinerary." Mistouffe gave her an inquisitive look. "Is he a member of the Glarmes?"

"Yes. I've… departed the order under less than ideal circumstances, but Lord-Commander Raymond might be persuaded to send us help to fend off the magmorians." Especially if some of my suspicions about him are correct. "It costs us nothing to contact them."

She could only pray someone would listen before the magmorians returned.