God Of Velmoryn [ LitRPG, Progression, High Fantasy ]

Before turning to Roy's empty core, still suspended in my realm, I first checked on Cellia's corpse - the one I had ordered the kelvarins to carry to Avenor. It turned out I had greatly underestimated both the distance and the difficulty of flying in deep winter.

The kelvarins were not built for snow and cold, and it showed. With the sun gone and no warmth to guide them, the birds struggled. The forest's animals had long retreated into burrows and dens, leaving little prey behind. Hunger gnawed at the kelvarins, their strength dwindled, and every day they covered only the smallest stretch of ground before needing to rest. That was without the weight of Cellia's corpse burdening them.

Well, the good news is that her body won't spoil in this weather. The bad news is that it may take them more than a week to reach Avenor after Cellia's weight slows them down even more.

This was one of my rarer miscalculations. Most of the time, my instincts were correct. Well, to be fair, I rarely attempted what I wasn't confident of succeeding in.

But there was another problem.

The basilisk.

It had already consumed the last of its food, and now its instincts clawed at it, demanding it feed on Cellia's corpse. My will embedded in its mind suppressed the hunger, but the struggle was visible, growing sharper with each passing hour. The beast's body demanded sustenance to endure the cold, and denying it only hastened its desperation.

The kelvarins should arrive in a day or two… but I may have to provide the basilisk with food before then.

After checking multiple places, it was becoming clear to me that multitasking was not merely useful - it was necessary. With the growth of my believers, the expansion of my tribe and the creation of new vessels, there were too many threads to hold at once. And no matter how hard I tried, my multitasking had stopped improving.

If I could split my consciousness as I had long theorized, I would be able to manifest independent fragments of myself - limited, but capable of accomplishing separate tasks. Safe, efficient, indispensable.

That was part of why Roy's empty core had become my priority. If I could recreate his soul, perhaps my understanding of my consciousness, or rather myself, would deepen.

Let's sum up what I know. I can divide a small fragment of me, and it will restore itself without any damage. That much I have already proven. But I've never attempted the same with a significant portion, one-third or a quarter of my being.

The thought alone was enough to make me shiver. Whether that reaction was divine caution or the remnant of a human mind that clung to survival instinct, I couldn't say.

I also confirmed that my consciousness always resembles me when it separates, though it is shaped heavily by the vessel it inhabits. The basilisk still thinks as I would, in its own way, but its thoughts are simple, primal; heavily affected by the instincts of a predator. Avenor, however, is different. He began to show signs of empathy toward the Velmoryns, or at least, that is what he projected.

I remembered clearly: when my consciousness had first entered Avenor, the status window showed his empathy was at one. But was that number affected by me? While he remained directly connected to me, his mind mirrored my own after all. It made sense that my dulled empathy would be shown as 1 in the status window. But what of now, when he had become a separate entity? Unfortunately, I could no longer verify. The moment the link between us was cut, the system refused to show his status window. Hollow Core blocked the divine power, and in the past, it had been the system itself, not my divinity, that provided that information, since Avenor was considered an extension of me and I possessed the system.

That raised yet another question. Why did the basilisk not possess Hollow Core? I had assumed Avenor acquired it because he had no soul. But did the basilisk have one? Had the snake's body I used as its core passed down a fragment of its soul along with it?

Too many questions, and Guidance offered no answers. I had noticed the pattern already: the system only provided detailed knowledge when it directly concerned my growth as a god. In matters beyond that, especially when I sought to understand the deeper nature of the world, it was stingy, often leaving me to guess.

Soul clearly exists in this world, and I believe it cannot be destroyed, not completely. Even in Roy's case, after he willingly sacrificed his soul, the empty, cracked core remained. I've not tried to get rid of it, but I suspect that even if I expelled it outside my realm, it wouldn't vanish. I think souls are far more than what they appear to be…

Alright, I'm assuming too much. I should keep in mind what is my assumption and what is the fact. The fact is that souls can be tethered to gods, perhaps even to weaker ones like Pintre. When a mortal whose soul is tethered dies, they remain in a god's realm instead of dispersing like Joriel's did. But I have no idea what happens to the soul of a godless mortal, like Joriel. Where did his soul go?

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

And then there is the Goddess. I know She created the elves. Does that mean She used Her consciousness to create their souls? And if so, how did She create their bodies? Did She make Avenor's body the same way She made the elves? If She created their souls as I created the basilisk, then why didn't the elves know Her? They must have shared the same mind at some point… Did she erase their memories?

I caught myself before my thoughts spiraled too far. My mind was already chasing too many possibilities, scattering in every direction. I needed to narrow it, to focus on the task at hand.

The more I try to think about souls, about consciousness, about how this world works, the more questions I raise and the more chaotic my mind becomes. I don't think enlightenment will come from speculation. If anything, it might cloud judgment and make objective decisions harder. Whatever… I'll do what I've always done - improvise.

I willed Roy's empty core to drift toward me. The first time I gained my body and the ability to move in my realm, I started flying aimlessly just for the excitement of it. But that novelty was gone. Now I simply guided the core to me.

I studied it closely once more, checking for any sign of change. There was none. It remained what I had left it to be - a hollow core, without even a sliver of divinity or the faintest resemblance of life.

My plan was simple. First, I would seal the small crack it still had. Then, I would attempt to push a fraction of my consciousness into the core. The reason for restraint was clear: the last time I attempted this, the core had pulled more and more of me into it, until I found myself struggling not to be devoured. So it wasn't only a matter of controlling how much I offered, but how much I allowed it to take.

Unlike before, when I didn't know my consciousness could restore itself, I no longer fear that this can harm me. But I do fear that if I fail, I won't be able to undo it. What if the consciousness that awakens in the core, if anything awakens at all, isn't Roy? Can I erase whatever is inside and try again?

The thought made me hesitate.

Let's try Guidance.

It feels as if the system only revealed information I already knew… suspiciously so.

My doubt that Guidance's answers weren't fixed, but shaped depending on what the system wanted me to hear, was growing more and more solid. Whenever it wanted me to act, like when it urged me to shape my dominion and pull Pintre inside, it always provided information that nudged me toward it. Sometimes it dangled enticements, sometimes it gave explanations so convincing that refusing seemed unreasonable.

Now, however, I felt as though the system did not want me to succeed.

But why? Wouldn't learning how to shape souls make me more powerful?

From the very beginning, I'd carried an unquenchable thirst to grow stronger. Whenever a path opened before me that promised greater divine power, excitement had followed instinctively. That hunger felt too sharp, too absolute - it had to be influenced by the system. Or… perhaps not. Perhaps there was something else affecting me, something I had not yet uncovered.

No, Verde. Don't go down that road. Doubt, once it takes root, makes life unbearable. Unless I'm strong enough to change something, there's no point opening that door. It would only make me miserable, and for nothing in return.

Even as a so-called god, I felt powerless. It was as though some unseen hand kept pulling the strings behind me.

The thrill I had felt earlier, the rush of anticipation when I resolved to experiment with Roy's core, dimmed under that shadow. Despite my pep talk, my mood soured. But despair? No. I would not sink that low, nor hang my head in defeat.

No.

I had already decided that I would live this life to the fullest. This was my extra time, a bonus granted after the end. And if that was the case, then there was no reason to do anything less than embrace it completely.

Let's do this, Roy. Your god summons you, my very first devoted believer.

I stopped hesitating. Divine power stirred at my command, and confidence overtook me, weirdly so. Crimson energy rippled out around me, thick and vibrant, filling my realm. I relished the sight of it, the sensation of it coursing through me. So much so that I spread my smoke-like hands wide, sinking into the moment fully as the cracked, transparent core before me began to shimmer.

The thin crack along its surface began to mend as I pressed my consciousness into the core. Threads of myself reached outward, and the instant they touched it, I felt the pull. I didn't resist.

Let's do this!

The connection held steady as the transparent shell slowly bled into color, filling with a bright, vivid scarlet that glowed against the gray of my realm. The earlier weight of doubt and heavy thoughts fell away, replaced by something close to exhilaration.

The pull went on longer than I liked. For a moment, unease crept back in - if it drew too much of me, would I be able to cut it off? But just as the thought came, the pull weakened until it finally stopped.

In front of me hovered a fully crimson core, radiant, alive in a way it had not been before. Pride swelled in me even before I confirmed what it had become.

If I had truly succeeded.

Guidance.