God Of Velmoryn [ LitRPG, Progression, High Fantasy ]

[Warning: Divine Kingdom consumed 0 Divinity Points!]

Huh?

Seeing that it cost me absolutely nothing to pull Tekla into my realm, a thought began to form. Perhaps because my Authority was that of the God of Velmoryn, and the Velmoryns themselves were my domain, no divine power was wasted. The link was already there, anchored into their very being.

Perhaps it requires no divine energy to summon those already bound tightly to me…

That would explain why that other god allowed His apostles to use the portal freely. Those portals must have consumed His divine power after all. I doubted mortals could wield space and time magic on that scale. Such forces had to be exclusive, beyond the reach of any ordinary hand. And now that I thought about it, most of Elisabeth's strength had come from her summons and artifacts. If she had possessed that level of personal power herself, she would have overwhelmed both Avenor and Gundir with ease.

My attention returned to the notification window, but I barely had time to study it before Tekla appeared.

To be honest, the visuals itself was… underwhelming. No grand surge of divine power to roll out in waves, no fading mist to unveil my visitor. Not even the faintest hum of magic. One moment she wasn't there, the next she was - frozen mid-motion, her hand still gripping the edge of her dress as she prepared to remove it.

"Wh… where am I?" Her thoughts brushed mine before I even reached for them. She was startled, but beneath the fear of the unknown lay curiosity. Tekla was quickly proving herself to be someone who didn't shy away from power she couldn't hope to match; she leaned toward it, eager to see more.

Her gaze moved, taking in the deep crimson pillars that framed the throne hall. As her eyes caught on the thick, dark red roots, she immediately realized what they were. She had worked with Orrvyn when the temple was shaped; she knew what she was looking at.

"Is this… Father's kingdom?"

Her eyes climbed toward the throne. When compared to Pintre, the seat and the figure upon it were slightly larger; compared to her, they were colossal. In that scale, she should have felt like a tiny mortal in the presence of an almighty being. She should have felt suffocated.

But she didn't.

The moment her gaze met God of Velmoryn's, she dropped to her knees - not in fear, but in exhilaration. Her heart raced, her thoughts scrambled for words that could express the flood of delight and pride swelling inside her.

"Father brought me into His realm…"

She pressed her forehead to the floor, waiting for my command. She didn't dare look up again. That single glance was enough; now she was scared that staring directly at the figure on the throne would be a discourtesy.

"Raise your head, child."

My voice echoed across the dominion, resonating from every direction at once.

Tekla shivered, the hair on her arms standing on end from the thrill of the moment. A grin tugged at her lips, though she kept it hidden. But she didn't need to show it for me to know. In here, within my dominion, I could see her, feel her, and sense every beat of her heart.

It was a strange sensation, one I was still learning to understand.

"High Father, thank You for bringing me into Your kingdom," she whispered, her voice reverent. Quickly, she touched her index and middle fingers to her chest, tracing the shape of my symbol.

"Does Father intend to keep me here? Has my time come? Am I to live in His kingdom from now on?" The thoughts spilled from her, the bright edge of joy fading as fear crept into her mind. "But our tribe needs me. If I leave them now… I… I want to witness the rise of our people."

She didn't dare give voice to her doubts, but I heard them regardless. What usually required focus came effortlessly now. With Pintre, even within my realm, I was unable to read its mind, but with my followers, every thought surfaced unbidden.

"You must not fear that your time has come," I said, choosing to address the unease directly. "I brought you here to pass you my will."

Tekla bowed her head in response until her forehead touched the floor. Her tense mind was already relaxing when it suddenly got worse.

"Did Father read my mind? Or did He simply know I would be afraid?" Her thoughts tumbled in a nervous spiral. "What a foolish question… Father is almighty! Of course He knows all my thoughts and desires. But… did I offend Him by showing unwillingness to remain in His kingdom? Have I disappointed Him? Will He punish me?"

What the…?

I had intended to reassure her, yet somehow my words had deepened her dread.

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The attempt to calm her had completely backfired, and now fear gnawed at her, eclipsing the joy she had felt moments ago. But that single misstep revealed something important: despite being a god who had never punished his believers, who had only ever blessed them, I was still feared. Even Tekla, my priestess, who believed with all her heart that I cherished my followers, felt the possibility that I might punish her simply for having thoughts that displeased me.

Perhaps it's my presence. If she were in the mortal realm, I doubt she'd be this mortified at the idea of my disapproval. But here, standing before a being she believes could erase her with a thought…

I understood her fear. If I were mortal in her position, I might feel worse.

In the end, no matter what I did, I would still be seen as a god whose displeasure was dangerous. Unless I explicitly declared otherwise, even the most devoted would carry that fear.

But was that bad?

No. It was not.

While I had chosen to shift my path from that of a merciless, self-serving god to one who was just, that didn't mean I intended to become kind. Mercy was as dangerous as cruelty when taken to extremes. I needed balance - to be neither benevolent nor malevolent. Neutrality was the goal. A wild god who rewarded devotion and loyalty, yet punished those who opposed him. Yes, that was the god I intended to be. At least, that was what I believed in that moment.

But there was a problem.

As my bond with my believers deepened and their numbers grew, I found myself swayed by their perception of me. Their faith and their image of me pressed against my own will, affecting me in ways I couldn't quite understand. I had not yet found a way to stop it. The only solution I could imagine was to make them see me as I wished to be seen. To shape their image of me before they could shape mine. That was why I worked so hard to craft my appearance, my voice, my manner - why I followed certain principles without deviation. If I could keep their vision of me unified, I could prevent the fractures that came when too many conflicting images took root.

"My child, I wish to grant you this."

My voice overwhelmed the space, vibrating through the air and the very foundations of my dominion.

Tekla lifted her head just as ten crimson seeds, each shaped like an acorn, drifted toward her, the red energy swirling around them guiding their trajectory. Bringing her here was already significant, but I had decided it was not enough. I didn't wish to give her a quest now; there were no immediate missions I could entrust her with. What I wanted most was for the tribe to grow in ways they had not yet considered. I needed Velmoryns who could craft artifacts, inscribe runes… but Tekla could not provide that. For that, I would need another influx of my people. Perhaps when the Yellow Tribe migrated, I would gain what I sought.

For now, I would focus on what I could do in this moment.

Tekla extended her hands, cupping the drifting seeds as though they were fragile treasures. The moment her fingers closed around them, the vision I had prepared unfurled within her mind.

I had decided that simply telling her what I wanted was not enough. Words lacked the weight of revelation.

The first scene showed Velmoryns planting the seeds along the outskirts of Orrvyn's wall, each one spaced at a distance that would eventually form a wide ring around the settlement… The image shifted. Full-grown trees now stood where the seeds had been, their trunks and leaves a fiery red. They were not massive, but they were linked, their roots woven together to form a living barrier. Through their connection, warmth radiated outward, holding winter's bite at bay.

Life as it was could not continue. Winter lasted six months here, and two of those were nearly paralyzing for the tribe. In that time, Velmoryns rarely left their homes. Hunting, construction, even basic maintenance of the settlement slowed to a crawl. Clearing snow from rooftops became a full day's work, and the unending night only made them weaker. The absence of sunlight diminished their bodies as much as the cold.

This, I would change. My people would no longer be frozen into stillness during the long winter. With these trees, the settlement would remain warm enough to fend off the snow. It would not be effortless - Velmoryns would have to feed mana into the trees during winter to sustain them. But with our growing numbers, it was feasible. Especially with Orrvyn bearing the largest share of the burden. In time, I would find a way to create a mana generator, or something similar. There had to be mana crystals or other resources in this world I could harness.

The final scene in Tekla's vision shifted to the settlement itself - changed, strengthened. And there was Gundir, now with several apprentices at his side.

I was no architect. I could not give them detailed blueprints, only images - castles from my old world, fortifications I had seen long ago. The rest would depend on those among my people with the skill to translate vision into design. That was why I wanted Gundir to take apprentices, to train them, to multiply the hands that could shape stone and timber into something enduring. Speed of development was the lifeblood of growth. And I intended for my tribe to grow faster than any would expect.

Tekla's eyes regained their clarity as she gently closed her fist around the seeds, holding them as if they were about to break. She was quick. It didn't take her long to grasp their significance. These were not simply a gift; they were a foundation stone for the tribe's future. Even now, she was already turning over possibilities in her mind.

"Should we plant them in winter? Should I ask Father what to do? But is it right to always rely on Him? What are we even worth…? He has given us everything we have. He blessed our warriors, gave us the Divine Tree, even our greatest blacksmith. No… I mustn't ask. But what if we ruin them? Wouldn't Father be angry if we wasted His gift? No… Father wouldn't grant us something we cannot handle…"

She's so conflicted…

I could hear every flicker of thought, each emotion that passed through her mind. Tekla overthought everything - at least, everything that was related to me. I couldn't fault her for it though. A short while ago, she'd been preparing for bed; now, she was standing in the presence of her god.

She started to tuck the seeds into the inner pocket of her dress, then hesitated.

"Can I even bring these seeds outside? Maybe Father only showed me the vision to give me a task to find them… But I've never seen plants like this, never even heard of them…"

Her thoughts began to scatter again, so I decided to cut them short.

"You may leave now, child." I aimed for gentleness, though my voice still filled the realm from every direction. My manifestation's lips curved into a faint smile, and with a slight move of wrist, Tekla vanished from the dominion.

I shifted my focus immediately to the Window, checking whether she had carried the seeds back with her. Relief settled over me when I saw them in her hands. She wrapped them carefully in cloth, then placed them close to her heart - likely for warmth, perhaps also for reassurance.

This much is enough. I won't change anything else in the tribe until spring comes. But I can still experiment while I wait.

My gaze turned toward Roy's empty core, the one I had neglected for far too long.

It was time to attempt what I had promised Vivien.