A/N - Thank you, Devonere Alexander, for becoming God of Velmoryn's Patrons!
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Now this is interesting. I've been wondering how to approach converting the other tribes, thinking where to even begin, and yet they came on their own.
There was no scenario where I would allow my tribe to give up its future generations. I wanted Velmoryns to grow in number so much that I had even enshrined it in the commandments, making reproduction a sacred act. A part of me still recognized how wrong that sounded, the leftover pieces of my human memories occasionally nudging at my conscience. But even then, it was never guilt, just a faint awareness that I should feel something.
It'd been a while since I realized that morality no longer bound me like it used to. As long as something served my benefit, I was instinctively drawn to it. Still, after some thought, I had chosen to self-impose a few rules. Not out of kindness, but because faith built without constant pain and oppression would run deeper. If my followers grew stronger while still believing they chose this path freely, their loyalty would become absolute. That's why I still had not forced the other tribes to kneel using force. I needed Velmoryns to fear me, yes, but I also wanted them to love me.
However, even with those lines I'd drawn for myself, surrendering children was not an option. If the Yellow Tribe attacked, and they likely would, they would witness the strength my people now held. Strength born from my hand, but not wielded directly by me. I didn't want to crush them through divine power. I wanted to absorb them, to pull their strength into mine. And there was no better way than letting them see how much the weakest tribe had changed in less than half a year since becoming my believers.
"What are you all so worried about?" Tekla asked, glancing at the gathered Velmoryns standing stiff with concern. "We aren't the tribe we used to be. Even if we cannot strike first, the Divine Tree will protect us inside our tribe."
"That…" Mirion paused, almost caught off guard. For some reason, he'd completely overlooked the Crimson Guardian, the very reason I wasn't the slightest bit troubled by the Yellow Tribe's threat. Maybe because deep down, Mirion still struggled to trust me, his faith tethered more to his daughter than to me. Or maybe because he had been unconscious when the Oak Tree first awakened and butchered the spider mutant swarm.
"You are right, Priestess! We have become so accustomed to weakness that we forgot how much we've changed," Lily spoke up, stepping in before Mirion could answer. "We older Velmoryns have lost the firm footing we once had. Now even the lightest wind sends us off balance." Her voice held regret, and her eyes darted toward the tribe as if weighing their strength. Despite the solemn tone, the meaning behind her words was still what I wanted. The tribe would no longer sit back while others came to strip away their future.
One of the younger Velmoryns, the same scout who had delivered the news, became a little too eager. Practically vibrating where he stood, he blurted out what was already flashing through his mind.
"Should we kill the envoy?" he asked, nearly ready to draw his blade before anyone answered.
Mirion and Lily both stiffened. Even if they were somewhat confident in the Crimson Guardian's protection, they weren't eager to test it recklessly. But they also knew where true authority rested. Tekla didn't need their approval - whatever she decided, the tribe would follow.
"No, don't harm him. We need to stall for time." She answered calmly after a brief pause. "I need to pray. High Father will guide us to the best decision." She placed her hand on her chest, pausing just long enough for the others to join her before continuing.
"Tribe Warrior Mirion, try to convince them to return after winter. By then we will be ready!"
She didn't wait for her father's reply. She trusted him more than anyone and believed that if anyone could succeed, it was Mirion. With that, Tekla turned and headed toward the temple, likely preparing to seek my guidance.
Following Tekla was no longer interesting. Now I wanted to see how Mirion would handle the envoy. Because unlike Tekla, I wasn't confident in Mirion's diplomacy. From everything I had observed, he was impulsive and too straightforward, with no cunning at all.
The envoy was a lean Velmoryn with sharp, untrustworthy features, wearing light leather armor. His crimson hair and eyes made him look like something that had crawled straight out of hell. Some Velmoryns in my tribe also carried either crimson hair or eyes, but not both.
"Tribe Warrior Mirion," the envoy greeted first, giving a slight nod.
"I didn't know you'd be visiting, Ugriel," Mirion replied, tapping his shoulder with a bit too much weight, unable to control his newly gained Gold Rank strength.
Ugriel flinched slightly, rubbing the spot where Mirion's hand landed, his eyes narrowing for a brief moment.
"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were trying to intimidate me," he said, his lips curling without ever forming a real smile.
"Considering why you're here, I might be," Mirion answered, laughing, though a crack was already forming in his otherwise composed expression.
I knew it… why would Tekla send him to negotiate? Fighting, sure, but Mirion trying to bluff his way through a deal is just asking for trouble.
Curiosity was only part of the reason I chose to observe this meeting. I needed the delay. I needed time to strengthen the tribe and have my vessel return. Spring would give me both. The only way to win a war without bathing in blood was to crush the enemy fast and decisively, not drag it out into a grind.
As I watched Mirion starting to lose his grip, I stirred my divine power, just a sliver of it.
Immediately, Ugriel froze. A faint crimson shimmer spread across his head as his eyes glazed over for a moment, focus slipping like his thoughts had been ripped away.
"What?" Mirion growled, likely thinking the envoy was being disrespectful. But then Ugriel snapped back, his face tightening with sudden dread.
"We'll return after the winter," he blurted out, nearly shouting as he pulled his sleeve up to shield his face. He whistled sharply, and a full-grown skalvyr burst from the woods, waiting for him to mount. The beast carried him away fast, the twin crimson tips of its tails slicing through the trees like a red streak until they vanished into the forest.
Mirion stood there, confused.
What was the point of speaking honestly to him? He was just a messenger. The only thing that would change their mind was showing them something that would make them unwilling to even get close.
And that was exactly what I had done.
[Warning: Creation consumed 0.1 Divinity Points!]
I created a subtle illusion, twisting the scene just enough to feed Ugriel's imagination. From his perspective, Mirion looked like a walking corpse - barely standing, coughing violently, mucus dripping, his entire frame unsteady. Even the surroundings looked horrible, the vegetation half-rotten with worms and insects feeding on decaying leaves, like the entire tribe was being devoured by some creeping plague.
I had worked out this plan long before the spider mutants' attack. Back when I thought brute force wouldn't be enough to stop other tribes if they decided to invade. I had researched carefully. I checked if any of the tribes had any methods dealing with disease, and whether healing potions cured illnesses as easily as they closed wounds. And they didn't. They did have some potions for disease, but their number wasn't many - certainly not enough to risk sending an entire group into a sick settlement and bring contamination back home.
If the season had been different, maybe I would have played it another way. But with winter closing in, the choice was simple. They had at most a week or two before the monsters of the forest came out, the ones Velmoryns feared so much. So, the Yellow Tribe wouldn't dare risk waiting near a tribe they believed infected, not when winter would trap them in place. It was safer to retreat and try again later.
"High Father…" Tekla's voice reached me, her usual composure slipping away now that she stood before me. She explained everything that had happened, as if I hadn't seen it myself. For a moment, I wondered if she thought I was blind to it, but decided it was probably caused by her troubled mental state. Tekla remained strong for the tribe, but before me, she was too vulnerable and honest to think twice before speaking.
"No harm shall come this winter," I answered, unwilling to let her carry the worry any longer. Besides, I wanted her to spread the word that once again, it was me who had saved them.
Tekla instantly brightened, the worry lifting from her face like it had never been there. She knelt, thanking me over and over before finally leaving the temple to handle her priestess duties.
Now that the immediate danger is more or less resolved, there is one more thing I need to figure out.
The tribe needed a stable source of food. But the problem was, anything I came up with would either demand me constantly draining my divine power to keep them fed, or require time. The wheat I'd considered needed seasons to grow, and the fruit-bearing trees would have to be sustained either by my divinity or life force. Otherwise, the natural balance would be ruined.
Maybe I should take a look at other tribes to see what they do. Surely they can't all be depending on hunting. Their numbers are much larger than mine.
My first target was the Blue Tribe. Not just because they were among the strongest, but because I strongly suspected they had trade routes with the outside world. And I needed that information.
I shifted the Window, moving it toward the Blue Tribe's territory, but before I even reached the settlement, something else caught my attention. A creature was moving through the forest, walking with complete ease, like the dangers of the woods didn't even exist for it.
It had a humanoid frame, but its skin was green, rough and textured like tree bark. Its hair hung in long, tangled strands resembling vines and moss. A satchel hung at its waist, overstuffed and bulging from whatever it was carrying. The creature was carefully inspecting patches of yellow plants, sniffing them one by one, moving with a strange care like it was trying not to harm them.
I got curious and kept watching.
Eventually, it seemed to find what it was looking for - a slightly larger yellow flower. It plucked the plant from the ground, and as it came free, I saw the root twist and pulse. The thing resembled a mandrake, though it didn't scream or react as I expected and maybe even hoped…
The creature then pulled a small knife, with intricate carvings on its wooden handle, and cut into its own hand. A few drops of yellowish liquid dripped onto the mandrake-like root, forming a rune where the liquid touched. Instantly, the oversized root shrank down to the size of a fingernail. The tree-like being tucked it away into the satchel and calmly turned back to the other flowers.
Then it plucked a petal from one of the remaining plants, squeezing it tightly between two fingers until a single drop of liquid landed on the soil. It added a drop of its own blood onto the same spot, and within seconds, another yellow flower sprouted up from the ground.
Does its blood increase the speed of plant growth?
I stared at the scene, suddenly far more interested than before. I had just stumbled into the solution to my food problem. Efficient, renewable, and completely independent of my constant intervention.
But one problem solved simply raised another.
How do I bring this one into the tribe? Should I use divine power to brainwash it?
The thought hung there, tempting. A simple solution. But at the same time, I hesitated.
Was it even possible to brainwash sentient creatures? The beasts were not exactly intelligent, but this treelike creature definitely looked like one.
And most importantly, what if there was a god behind it?
**
A/N-
I had to write this chapter on my phone, so if you find any typos or grammar mistakes, not my fault xD
There was a storm near my place, and it took out the power lines. I won't have electricity back until tomorrow
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