God Of Velmoryn [ LitRPG, Progression, High Fantasy ]

"How Pintre receives His mark?" it asked again, eyes wide open, no longer showing the signs of fear.

Huh?

I froze.

Until now, receiving my mark had always been tied to belief. A mortal opened their soul, accepted me, and the bond was formed. But this was different. Pintre was no mortal. And, in truth, I'd never actually asked anyone to accept me like some merchant peddling divinity at the street corner.

And now that I was asked directly… I had no answer.

Should I tell it to become my believer?

But could deities even believe in other deities? What if they couldn't? What if I said something stupid and exposed just how little I actually knew? Even if Pintre's intelligence was lacking, revealing misinformation could ruin the impression I had built.

For a moment, I even considered forcing the mark upon it. Channeling my divine power and branding it directly, the same way I had done with Huanir. But I stopped myself before acting.

That wouldn't be a gift. That would be enslavement.

It would ruin whatever relationship I was forming with the creature. Worse, it went against the sole rule I had imposed on myself and it might even trigger a backlash. If neutral mortals were protected by the system's rules, then there was a chance that neutral divine beings were even more safeguarded. Forcibly marking Pintre might not just be unethical, it might be punishable.

So instead of making a mistake, I returned to the method I knew best, sounding like I knew exactly what I was doing.

"That is for you to discover, Pintre."

My voice echoed through the dominion again, sounding amused, enigmatic, and utterly composed. The sort of voice that didn't answer questions because the answer was obvious… or in my case unknowable.

Pintre's eyes lit up. It began muttering something incomprehensible and gesturing with its hands, forming strange signs in the air, though nothing appeared to happen. It looked focused. Enthusiastic.

Well… at least it's happy.

But as I watched it flail about in divine creativity, I began to realize that having it distracted and comfortable wasn't exactly in my best interest.

[Warning: Divine Kingdom consumed 10 Divinity Points!]

What?

The moment the notification flashed, I narrowed my focus and felt it. The drain.

It wasn't dramatic, but still, it was definitely there. Subtle and constant.

I didn't need Guidance to tell me why.

Divine Kingdom wasn't a fire-and-forget skill. It was like an active realm sustained by divine power. And the cost, probably, scaled with what I kept inside it. And since Pintre didn't belong in my dominion, it was being 'maintained'. Even if it wasn't strong or particularly bright, it was still a divine being. Of course it would require a constant flow of divine energy to hold here.

Fine. This isn't a failure. It makes sense. Supporting something like Pintre should cost me.

But it also meant I had to act quickly. I needed to kick it out as soon as possible.

I refocused on the creature. Pintre was still busy working through whatever calculations it believed necessary - fingers twisting, eyes narrowed, whispering to itself in rhythms that made no sense at all.

"You've lingered long enough, Pintre," I finally said, my voice echoing, firm but somewhat warm. "This Kingdom shall call you again when the time is right."

Pintre's face twisted. It sulked. Then knit its brow with a dramatic huff, as if it was about to throw a tantrum, but stopped just short. Its golden eyes fell to the floor, ears drooping.

"No one wants Pintre…" it muttered, voice heavy with exaggerated misery, as though I had sentenced it to exile rather than simply asking it to leave.

Suddenly, I had an idea.

"I would have kept you here if I could," I answered, my tone softening. "But you do not yet bear My mark. Without it, your place within my realm cannot be sustained."

Its head remained low.

"But that doesn't mean this is farewell. While you're outside, try to uncover how to receive my mark. If you succeed, I will know. Our bond shall awaken, and I will summon you the moment it is formed."

Pintre's ears twitched. It looked up, hesitantly.

"And if you can't figure it out," I added, with a faint smile barely conveyed through the voice of the realm, "I shall still call you next winter, and we shall work through it together."

"Velmoryn God promises?" it asked, already bouncing in place with watery eyes.

"I do."

Pintre immediately began hopping in circles, jumping with enough energy to rattle the roots beneath its feet. The joy spilling from it was almost overwhelming, though I hadn't finished yet.

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I had comforted it, yes, but I needed to secure more than just sentiment.

"Pintre," I said, my tone shifting just slightly, "the crystal you gave me… do you know what it contains? I believe it may help me find a way to let you remain here, always."

The creature stopped mid-hop.

Its deerlike grin widened, turning unsettling. "Mother says Pintre is young halvyn. Mother says Pintre can not know."

So the Goddess told him its intelligence was too limited to comprehend the memory's contents…

I nearly dismissed it then, preparing to say goodbye, but Pintre continued.

"Mother says new god reward Pintre. Then Pintre grow. Mother says Pintre must tell new god true name…"

My thoughts stilled.

Even before it finished speaking, I knew something important was happening.

"Pintre has two names," it said, too happy to reveal more about itself. "Mother says Pintre only tell true name to new god. Pintre and Liraelwyn."

The moment the name left its mouth, my dominion trembled. I felt the familiar shift through the space.

And then the golden notification flashed before my eyes.

Now, more than before, I wanted Pintre to leave.

Even without turning my gaze toward it, I sensed that somewhere far off in the mist-veiled expanse of my divine realm, a new star had appeared. And yet, despite the curiosity it stirred, I remained where I was, unwilling to leave Pintre alone within my dominion.

There was a particular gleam in his eyes, a strange mixture of awe and expectation that made me pause.

What? Why is it looking at me like that? Ah. Of course. The reward… The one the Goddess promised I would grant.

I weighed if I was willing to waste divine power on it. And in the end I decided that it was necessary. Pintre had claimed that it would grow if I gave it a reward… I was kinda looking forward to seeing it.

"Before you return, receive this as a reward."

My manifestation lifted its hand slowly as divine power began to gather at its fingertips, condensing into a sphere of pulsing crimson light. The sphere drifted forward, slowly approaching Pintre, who reacted immediately, showing no hesitation. It leaned forward with sudden eagerness, grabbing the orb in its clawed hands before swallowing it whole in one swift movement, like a starving animal that had finally been fed.

[Warning: Passing the Divinity consumed 10 Divinity Points.]

Nothing happened.

There was no transformation, no growth, no divine breakthrough. The creature simply stood there, trembling faintly, eyes glazed with contentment, basking in the echo of power it had consumed.

I had expected as much.

Ten points were never going to be enough to spark true growth… but for a being like Pintre, they might still be something monumental. Let it savor this moment.

Its eyes, wide and golden, remained fixed on my manifestation with the kind of reverence mortals usually reserved for legends. I could tell it was still savoring the taste, still caught in the haze of divine intoxication.

Then, without another word, I willed it away.

Crimson light coiled around its form, wrapping the minor deity in a slow spiral before vanishing in a blink, removing it from my realm entirely.

And only then did I feel it, the absence.

I hadn't realized how much energy it had cost to keep the creature here, but now that it was gone, my entire realm felt lighter.

Yet I didn't linger to savor the moment. I turned my gaze toward the far edge of the realm where something unfamiliar shimmered faintly in the mist.

A new star.

It hung distant and uncertain, silver and almost translucent, with no warmth or emotion tethered to it. It pulsed weakly, a presence that didn't belong. And unlike my believers' stars, it wasn't anchored to the Crimson Guardian.

I reached out, hoping to sense something more - some emotion, thought, or even a thread of will, but there was only silence. The only thing I could feel was Pintre's location - it was already wandering in the forest, hopping caressly.

There was nothing else to be gained from watching that star, so I turned away without regret.

The time for subtle bonds and half-formed connections was over. Now, at last, I would face the message the Goddess had hidden within the memory stone.

The bright crystal that had been drifting through my realm floated to me with a single thought.

I hadn't thought about it until now… but these memory stones don't feel random anymore. Not in the slightest.

I had told myself that the first one might've been a fluke - a precaution left behind by the Goddess in case she forgot something while preparing the vessel. That was the reasonable assumption. But the choice of the memory she had stored in it felt a little strange. Why the last battle?

If she was truly afraid of forgetting something, why that memory in particular? Unless… that was the exact memory she knew she'd lose.

The thought itched at the back of my mind. I knew I was missing something, and no matter how many angles I tried to approach it from, the shape of it refused to come into focus.

Now Pintre claimed the Goddess had told it that a new god would appear, and that it was meant to pass this memory stone along to that new god - me, in this fortunate case. And Karla... she said Freya told her a chosen one would come to save the Elves. Was that truly from the Goddess? Or something Freya invented herself? I couldn't say for certain, but it was difficult to believe that the Goddess's strongest sword had simply decided to act on her own, making declarations that bold without at least receiving her blessing.

The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. I didn't want to believe everything had been planned out for me by someone I neither trusted nor revered. Especially not the Goddess. But facts were facts, I kept stumbling across her 'guides,' left behind for this chosen one or new god. Same thing, as far as I was concerned.

Either she had scattered thousands of such breadcrumbs, or everything really had been arranged for me from the start.

Lingering on it wouldn't change anything. I needed to see what memory she had left. Maybe then I'd have more to work with.

Without another thought, I channeled divine power into the crystal. It didn't take much to activate, just a fraction.

The orb flared to life. Silver light spread across my realm like paint spilled across a canvas, and then the memories hit.

They didn't arrive gently.

Images. Sounds. Emotions. A storm of thoughts not my own surged into my mind, one after the other, with no rhythm, no breathing space. I couldn't absorb them. I couldn't even react.

This was too much.

I fought to steady myself. My thoughts spiraled, a tight knot of dread winding itself in my chest… or mind. I tried to focus. Tried to regulate it.

Tried.

But in the end, the world went dark.