God Of Velmoryn [ LitRPG, Progression, High Fantasy ]

More than a thousand Velmoryns stood gathered near the entrance of the settlement. The tall wooden fence enclosing the tribe loomed like a barrier between two worlds, its surface reinforced with sharpened stakes and carved bindings. Several lookout towers rose just behind it, peering over the treeline like cautious eyes, meant to give early warning before enemies could reach the gates unseen.

But today, no alarms had been raised. The small group approaching, fifteen Velmoryns in total, was not here to fight. Far from it.

"Priestess… are we certain it's safe to approach without first confirming the state of their tribe?" Mirion murmured under his breath, his words meant for Tekla's ears alone.

Tekla's expression didn't shift. Calm and composed, she traced a symbol of the Crimson Tree over her chest and replied softly, "By High Father's will."

Mirion gave a small nod, then lengthened his stride to move ahead of the others. Even if Tekla placed full faith in the vision I had granted her, Mirion still preferred to place himself between her and the unknown. Especially with Avenor absent, he felt it his duty to walk at the front.

The settlement's heavy wooden gate groaned, straining as it began to part. The snow piled against it resisted with stubborn weight, and the hinges screeched in protest, loud enough to make the nearby walls shudder.

"They're going to tear the wall down before they manage to open it," Mirion muttered, visibly irritated. The Yellow Tribe hadn't even cleared the entrance. That alone was enough to plant doubts in his mind. If they truly awaited the Priestess with open arms, surely they would have prepared better.

"Ninali," Tekla said gently, her eyes turning to the young Velmoryn walking at her left. "Could you clear the way for them?"

"Of course, Priestess." Ninali bowed her head and picked up speed without hesitation.

Her devotion had been growing steadily. It began the moment she learned the truth of her people's origin, that they were abandoned creations, pitied by a Goddess who never returned. She had wept during that revelation, begging me never to forsake them. When she received my blessing, her faith only deepened. And after returning from the hunt victorious, having slain winter beasts once thought untouchable, her devotion had solidified into something near unshakable.

Now, she sprinted forward, her staff in hand. It was Gundir's work - simple enchantment granting a faint warmth and a modest amplification of mana.

As she neared the gate, a red diagram flickered into being above her outstretched hand. Ninali had only begun learning fire magic spells, and so far had relied on two of them. But with her recent rank increase, she had started working truly hard, practicing until the clumsy incantations became instincts.

She no longer needed to close her eyes or stand still to cast. The delay between thought and execution had nearly vanished as well.

A spiral of fire formed in front of Ninali, whirling toward the gate in a controlled vortex that gently melted the snow. It wasn't intense, more warmth than flame, but it did the job. The snow peeled back in soft curls, clearing a path clean to the gate.

Tekla approached slowly and offered Ninali a small smile. It wasn't much, but it worked better than words. Ninali's face lit up at once, returning a bright grin.

With the path cleared, the gate creaked open but the Velmoryns inside didn't rush out to greet or defend. They stood frozen just beyond the threshold, staring in stunned silence at the approaching group.

Their expressions were a strange blend of reverence and fear.

It wasn't just that a group traveling from tribe to tribe in the middle of winter unheard of on its own, but that they looked untouched by the journey. Their clothes were clean. Their weapons bore no fresh marks. Not a single one of them seemed winded or worn. They didn't look like survivors trudging across frozen lands fighting frightening monsters, they looked like they were out for a casual walk, enjoying their time.

Well. Most of them. Mirion looked mildly irritated, and Lucas… Lucas looked like death. Crimson eyes, twin blades strapped across his back, his expression colder than the snow they stepped over. He was the only one whose face matched what the Yellow Tribe expected of a true Velmoryn.

But that wasn't what stunned them most.

"Five… six… six Gold Ranks…" Dariel murmured, counting under his breath.

He had the gift for it - a unique instinct born from his beast-morphing abilities. After receiving my blessing his senses had grown sharp enough to gauge others' ranks with accuracy. Well, not ranks but the strength they possessed. That was why he counted six, not seven. Tekla, despite her Gold Rank, didn't register as strongly. Unless she called upon my power, of course, in which case, she'd eclipse them all. But she never had. She had never used my power to harm someone, not even the beasts. Only to heal.

"Vael Dariel?" Tekla asked gently, stepping forward. But before she could get far, Mirion and Lucas were already at her sides, positioning themselves like they were getting for a fight to death. Ninali, who clearly wanted to remain close, was nudged back without a word.

"Yes… that's me," Dariel said at last. The cold twin stares from Mirion and Lucas snapped him out of his daze. "I… I apologize, Priestess…"

The moment he spoke the title, the Velmoryns behind him stirred.

"Priestess!" Freya dropped to her knees without hesitation, and just as quickly, more than five hundred Velmoryns followed suit. They fell together, a silent tide of reverence crashing at Tekla's feet.

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Dariel was the last to kneel, not from reluctance, but simple shock. His body lagged behind what his mind had already accepted.

Mirion and Lucas eased subtly, but their eyes drifted, picking out those who still stood unmoved. Hundreds of Velmoryns whose markings remained pale, untouched by crimson.

"Please rise," Tekla said gently. "We kneel only for our Lord."

She had abolished the custom long ago. No more kneeling to the Priestess. Only to me. She'd expanded the Ninth and Seventh Commandments, making it clear that no Velmoryn should bow before anyone, not chieftain, not elder, not even her, only their god.

Dariel straightened first, setting the example. His gaze darted toward Tekla as she calmly scanned the faces beyond the faithful, eyes sharp but without judgment.

"Not all have accepted the Lord yet," he explained quickly. "But they will. I apologize for not welcoming you properly. We've been locked in for days; beasts have been unusually active. It's been too dangerous to leave the safety of the settlement."

He hesitated, then looked past Tekla's shoulder, studying the warriors who had arrived with her. His expression turned thoughtful.

"I expected Vael Teryo to be with you."

"Our Lord commanded me to come," Tekla said, fingers tracing the tree sigil across her chest. Then she turned to Freya, her gaze softening. "In the vision He showed me, you stood at my side, guiding me through your tribe. Leading me to those who need His care."

Freya's breath caught.

Tekla's body began to shimmer faintly, a crimson glow pulsing around her. It was the same divine presence they had once felt during the clash of gods. The memory alone made Freya's knees weaken. She stepped forward quickly, lowering her head, eyes fixed on the snow.

"We do have those struck by the cold," she said softly. "Some too weak to rise. Potions have failed us. Perhaps the Priestess would bless them with her presence…"

Without needing further instruction, Freya turned to lead Tekla toward the main hall where the sick were isolated.

Behind them, Dariel glanced toward Mirion.

"Tribe Warrior Mirion," he called. "When I last visited your tribe, you didn't have this many powerful warriors. Even your presence wasn't so... overwhelming."

Mirion's mouth twitched into a smirk.

"Asking questions about my tribe's strength, Vael?" Mirion said evenly. "Should I take that to mean you've truly decided to join us?"

"The Lord's command, we shall follow," Dariel replied, pressing his fist to his chest, but then hesitated. He'd seen Tekla trace a different sign earlier and quickly tried to mimic it. Unfortunately, he hadn't caught it clearly, so what he ended up with looked more like a circle with a diagonal line carved through it than a tree.

Mirion chuckled and, with a quick gesture, demonstrated the correct symbol.

"You're lucky it was me who saw that," he said, still grinning. "Had it been Ninali or Lucas, you'd be getting a lecture instead of a laugh."

Dariel exhaled and scratched the back of his neck, mildly embarrassed. "Well, I'm glad to hear I passed the first trial."

"If you truly mean to join us," Mirion continued, his smile not fading but his eyes sharpening just slightly, "then I suppose I should start calling you Tribe Warrior Dariel."

Dariel glanced at the crimson markings on Mirion's face, then down at his own faintly glowing skin. "I'd be more than happy to relinquish my position if it means a future worth living for, under a God who actually… cares about us."

His voice was low, meant only for Mirion, and the older Velmoryn appreciated the discretion. Despite not being friends, they had known each other long enough. Dariel had always been sharp-eyed, and it hadn't taken him long to sense that Mirion wasn't a blind follower. That, coupled with Mirion's straightforward and honorable nature, meant that Dariel could be honest with him.

"I can't speak for our Lord," Mirion replied, his grin softening into something more genuine. "But you've seen it yourself, haven't you? The change in our tribe. We've been hunting through the winter, Dariel. We've slain over ten varnoks. And even… more dangerous things."

He paused, watching Dariel's expression shift - first in awe, then slowly into resolve.

"Our Lord has blessed more Velmoryns in the past few months than the Goddess did in a lifetime. The proof is here. In every one of us."

Dariel nodded slowly. "Then maybe She truly is gone. Otherwise, there's no way a new God could have…"

He stopped mid-sentence. Mirion's raised brow and the flicker of confusion across his face brought the words to a halt.

"What?" Dariel asked.

"You don't know…" Mirion glanced past him toward the main hall where Tekla had already disappeared with Freya. "Let's talk about it later. The Priestess will explain things far better than I can."

He wasn't sure how much Tekla intended to reveal, and this wasn't the time to startle them with the truth. Telling the Yellow Tribe that Velmoryns were an artificially created race might shake more than their confidence. Their mission wasn't to provoke fear, it was to convert. At least, that's what Mirion believed.

"Oh, right…" Dariel gave an awkward smile, clearly misreading the pause. "I didn't even invite you in… I apologize."

He turned, taking a step toward the gate, then hesitated. "Mirion, now that we bear the same mark… About those children…"

"I know, Dariel." Mirion placed a firm hand on the larger man's shoulder and leaned in. "I've not forgotten how you let Tekla stay with me. Said she was slow… remember?"

So that's why they speak so openly. Dariel trust Mirion because of his straightforwardness and Mirion remembers how Dariel protected Tekla from being taken as a child.

But despite the intriguing conversation between them, my focus began to drift. The moment Tekla stepped into the tribe and channeled my power, the flood of notifications began.

The blue windows poured through my realm like a storm.

[Congratulations, you have gained a new believer and a Divinity Point.]
[Congratulations, you have gained a new believer and a Divinity Point.]
[Congratulations, you have gained a new believer and a Divinity Point.]
…

One after another, Velmoryns accepted my mark. I could see the new stars forming within my divine plane, each name etched into my awareness. The thousand Divinity Points would be within reach very soon.

And yet… I couldn't indulge in it for long.

Because far away, Avenor and Aria had finally reached the Green Tribe.

And unlike Tekla, they would not be welcomed guests.