God Of Velmoryn [ LitRPG, Progression, High Fantasy ]

A/N - Thank you, Mathieu Ferland, & Montana, for becoming God of Velmoryn's Patrons!

I watched the bird struggle, bones crunching under the tightening coil of muscle, amusement taking over me.

Not long ago, I'd decided the basilisk would be one of my symbols. A minor thought, more aesthetic than anything else. And now, just as I was searching for a creature to anchor into my Lore, this thing appeared. A serpent. Not just any serpent, either, but one that slithered into the scene with the kind of timing that made me wonder if fate was bored and trying to impress me.

Is this what the Velmoryns call a sylnorath?

Up close, it looked nothing like a basilisk. Sylnorath was sleeker than a regular snake, its scales thicker and more sharply segmented, almost plated. Two small, stunted wings twitched along its spine. They might help stabilize its leap mid-air, but not a chance it would've allowed sylnorath to fly. Not unless it had divine cheat codes I didn't know about.

The bird gave one last feeble jerk before going limp, its bones likely crushed along the way. The sylnorath paused, tongue flicking out as if savoring the moment before the swallow. That was when I moved.

I didn't go through the whole process this time. No visualizing every tendon. No micromanaging nerve strands. I just wanted to see what my new skill could do.

So I stirred the divine power and activated Rite of Genesis.

The divine energy that left me was the same or even less than what I'd spent reinforcing the raskil'r body. But I could feel it settle into the creature immediately.

This time, I had a very clear image in mind.

A towering serpent with dark crimson scales thick enough to shrug off steel, its hide layered like plates of living armor. Four horns curled from its skull, sweeping back with a regal, almost demonic shape. Its eyes would be crimson, obviously, and their gaze alone would stun anything foolish enough to meet them.

As the creature's body began to crack and shift beneath the weight of my will, my eyes landed on its stunted wings. They looked ridiculous now, like useless decorations. So I removed them entirely. In their place, I imagined size - real size. The kind that would make even varnoks consider turning around.

But the moment I pushed for scale, I felt the drain intensify. My divine power dipped hard.

Did I go overboard?

Maybe. Probably. So I adjusted. Instead of forcing the full-grown version into reality, I settled for a juvenile. Just enough structure for what I needed, without using too much of my reserves.

The moment I made the change, the drain leveled out, and the transformation resumed.

The creature's head was the last to shift. The scales along its skull thickened, curving into jagged edges. Horns erupted, four of them, each one growing into a distinct, sharp arc. Then its jaw elongated, lips pulling back into a tapered, fang-heavy maw. Sleek. Predatory.

Now the most important part.

With the body complete, I severed a sliver of my consciousness, larger than the one I'd used on the raskil but still far smaller than what Avenor took, and pushed it into the basilisk. This time, I didn't linger at the threshold, didn't maintain the link with the vessel. I knew better now.

Full connection meant my full presence, and my full presence meant another exploded corpse. So the moment my fragment passed through, I cut the link.

I hope the size was right.

If the shard was even slightly too large or too small, the entire process would collapse, and I'd have wasted another ten Divinity Points. I could afford that for now, thanks to the Yellow Tribe's steady conversion and my growing pool of faith, but still. It wasn't something I planned on repeating.

Then I felt it.

The link stabilized, and a slow awareness bloomed. My consciousness stirred within the beast, faint but alive. And with it came the pull - a sudden drain of divine power as the creature devoured the energy like a starved leech.

You better be worth it…

I narrowed my view as the basilisk twitched one last time, the glow around it dimming. Its body dropped softly onto the snow. Then, slowly, faint crimson runes began to etch themselves along its scales. They pulsed gently in the cold air, too bright for the creature to have the edge when it came to stealth, but I didn't care.

The crimson runes were mine. My mark. My color. My creature.

And more importantly, they meant it had worked.

[Warning: Rite of Genesis consumed 73 Divinity Points]

Seventy-three? But the raskil only cost me ten…

The spike in cost was absurd. My scouting vessel had drained almost as much as blessing three Silver-ranked believers, which suddenly felt a little too expensive. But it was done. The water was spilled, and the basilisk was already beginning to stir.

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It gave a sudden, violent twitch before slowly raising its head.

Even as a juvenile, the thing was massive - its head nearly the size of a Velmoryn's entire torso. That alone explained the toll on my divine power. Still, now that it was alive and responsive, I turned my attention to the connection, trying to feel it more clearly.

With Avenor, syncing had been effortless. His thought process almost mirrored mine. But the basilisk was something else entirely. Its mind was murky, raw instinct pulsing at the edge of awareness. And yet…it was undeniably sentient. And more than that, I could feel that its mind was slowly growing with every second that passed.

At this rate, it might eventually become as intelligent as Velmoryns. But right now… if it manages to follow basic commands, I'll call that a win.

I hadn't even considered the side effects, but the basilisk's primitive thoughts had dulled my own presence inside. My consciousness, embedded within it, felt half-asleep. Still, the link was stable. I could feel what it felt. See what it saw.

And the way it saw was… odd.

I had no senses of my own anymore, but memory was enough. My human past, Avenor's experiences - all of that had built a frame of reference. And the basilisk was totally different. It perceived the world through a red filter, everything tinted in deep, murky hues. Its sense of smell was overwhelming, sharper than anything I'd ever experienced, almost nauseating in how detailed it was.

And its hearing…

It had no ears, but that didn't matter. The entire body acted like one massive sensor, registering vibrations through the snow, through the trees, through the air itself. It was technically better than hearing, but I doubted it could recognize speech. Not yet. Maybe when my consciousness fully took root and its brain matured, but for now, words would mean nothing.

Let's see if you can follow orders.

I focused on the connection, preparing to issue a simple command - turn around, scan the area, then eat the bird you just killed. The thing looked pathetically small compared to the basilisk's enormous frame now - like a crumb.

But before I could even form the thought fully, it obeyed.

It coiled slightly, tilted its head, and devoured the bird in one casual motion. Not even a proper snack, just a crunchy little warmup. Still, it proved that even in this sluggish state, it could follow my intent. The bond was strong enough for simple commands, at least.

Which meant it was time to send it into the tunnel.

I paused. Back when the plan involved an insect, I'd been fully prepared to throw it into the dark and let it die. That was the point - expendable, forgettable, and cheap. But the basilisk wasn't. This one had cost me far too much to waste. So I decided I'd give it an order: the moment it sensed danger, it would retreat.

The serpent slithered forward, steering clear of the Velmoryn camp as much as possible. I also stayed ready to intervene the moment someone noticed it. And of course, it was noticed.

By Huanir.

The Tharuun's instincts kicked in immediately. He felt the basilisk's presence long before he saw it and padded out of the camp without hesitation. The Velmoryns didn't react. Huanir left often, usually returning after a satisfying hunt, so no one found it suspicious.

Despite Huanir's size, I wasn't concerned about the basilisk in a fight. It wouldn't go down easily. But that didn't matter as I would never allow it to come to that. The basilisk was far too valuable to let it be attacked like that. This wasn't just a matter of numbers - five Divinity Points versus seventy, it was about potential. The serpent could become something much more in time. I assumed that, once fully grown, it would be at least twice its current size, and far more dangerous.

As Huanir approached, I sent a simple command to the basilisk: do not attack. I hoped that the Tharuun would recognize my mark and understand it was one of mine. And within seconds, I realized I had worried for nothing.

Huanir's cautious, low steps shifted into a curious inspection. He sniffed nearly every scale, even gave the creature a long, slow lick across the top of its head, only to immediately recoil and shake himself with theatrical disgust. Apparently, the basilisk didn't taste quite right.

After deciding Huanir wasn't a threat, the basilisk simply moved on, dragging its massive body toward the tunnel entrance. The Tharuun didn't follow. Instead, he lay down just beside the entrance, let out a few odd whimpering sounds, then went back to grooming his paws like nothing ever happened.

Inside, the tunnel twisted in a wide, messy circle. Bones and dried feces littered the floor in patches, left behind by whatever had made its home here. As the basilisk slithered deeper, the space widened, eventually branching into multiple corridors.

This isn't just a tunnel. It's a network. A maze…

The basilisk moved slowly, relying on its entire body to register vibrations. It felt every grain of soil that fell from above, every droplet that landed on the rock, every insect skittering across the walls… though there weren't many. The air was still. Too still. It was hard to imagine creatures large enough to shape these tunnels and then use them regularly. Nothing about this place felt alive.

Eventually, the tunnel ended. A solid wall of packed stone and root. The basilisk turned back, but instead of leaving, it slipped into a narrow branch on the right. Only a few minutes passed before it halted.

It had picked up a barely perceptible sound - a shallow, slow breathing.

The basilisk's movements slowed even further, its bulk shifting with silent intent as it slithered toward the source. Despite its massive frame and hardened, metallic scales grazing the ground, the sheer weight of its body muffled the noise beneath it. No hiss, no tongue flicks, this wasn't a typical serpent. Its eyes remained locked forward, unblinking. Limited in color, yes, but not in clarity. Darkness didn't hinder it.

Eventually, the tunnel gave way to a clearing. A drop-off opened into a vast, sunken expanse - an underground valley stretching into shadow. And there, covering every inch of the ground, lay spiders.

Hundreds, no, thousands, piled across the lowland like a living carpet, all in deep, collective slumber. The outermost layers were made up of the ordinary spider mutants I'd seen before, their forms varied in size. Beyond them, a ring of larger, greener beasts, similar to that one that had almost killed Mirion. And at the very center - new variants. Pale gray, maybe yellow. It was hard to tell. The basilisk's vision distorted colors, but these ones stood out. They weren't bigger, but there was something else - their presence seemed more ominous.

That alone would've been enough. But then I saw them.

Tiny eggs.

Hundreds of thousands of them, clustered tightly together.

If these hatch… even if every Velmoryn tribe unites, we still won't be able to stop them.

The scale of it was almost impossible to grasp. But even that wasn't what froze me.

In the very center of the nest, half-buried in silk and shadow and surrounded on all sides by the unborn swarm, something glowed. A figure. Not monstrous in size, at least, it didn't appear so from this distance, but I didn't need to see its full form.

I felt it.

A divine presence - dense, suffocating. Stronger than the Goddess' statue. Stronger than the energy I had felt from the dungeons.

Is this... god's apostle?