“Soriel,” he growled the moment he stepped into the tribe. “Where is Soriel?”
His scarlet eyes swept the place, unblinking, unbothered by the stares fixed on him. None of the Blue Tribe dared to move.
“Are you deaf?” he roared, voice echoing through the settlement. “Call Soriel immediately!”
No one answered.
“Vael Akrion?” one of the younger women finally managed, her tone trembling. “Is that… truly you? What happened to…”
Her voice faltered, turning soft, almost sorrowful, as if pity had replaced fear. Whatever she saw standing before her, it was not the man she remembered.
Akrion’s jaw tightened.
“Stop asking questions and bring me Soriel,” he snapped. His gaze turned toward the largest structure in the settlement. “And gather everyone. We’re leaving at once!”
The girl flinched, vanishing into the crowd to carry out his order.
I narrowed my focus on him, trying to reach through the invisible thread that should have tied him to me. Even the nonbeliever Velmoryns were supposed to be connected to me. But there was nothing.
What?
I tried again, but there was no response. No whisper of divine presence, no faint pulse of connection.
I can’t sense him. How is that possible? Did I lose my Authority?
The unease crept in as I checked my status window, but nothing had changed there.
That leaves only one explanation - it's Akrion who has changed…
I decided to stop speculating and turned to the only thing that could provide answers.
Guidance.
I reread the information Guidance had shown me, once, twice… and each time I ended up with more questions than answers.
It didn’t shock me that another god had learned to tamper with life and create new species. I had done it myself. If I could reshape lesser creatures, it stood to reason others could do the same. That wasn’t the problem.
What unsettled me was the difference. The beings I had altered weren’t intelligent and they needed consciousness woven into them after creation. Akrion, however, was different. His mind was intact. His memories, his personality, everything that made him who he was seemed to have survived the change.
That was what didn’t make sense.
I could accept that the other god had mastered the craft of creation far beyond my current understanding. But Akrion, and every Velmoryn, still existed within my Authority. Incomplete as it was, it should have at least registered the interference. Shouldn’t the system have warned me that the Night God was rewriting one of my followers’ very flesh?
Confusion turned to anger. I had only just begun to believe I could finally focus on the Velmoryns and start shaping their civilization. I wanted to unite them, to see their growth continue, yet another obstacle had already appeared in my path.
Let’s find out why the system failed to warn me.
Until now, I had trusted it completely. It had always been reliable, constant, and absolute. I believed it would alert me the moment another god interfered with my domain. That belief no longer held true.
Guidance.
I felt scammed. The system, in that moment, seemed like one of those cheap advertisements that promise everything in bold letters while hiding the real conditions in a corner, written so small that no one could read them without a magnifying glass.
Still, it wasn’t wrong. Technically, I had never been promised that the system would warn me about everything. From the beginning, I had been the one reminding myself not to trust it blindly. That was why I had trained to control divine power on my own instead of relying entirely on the skills the system had granted me.
But over time, as every piece of information it gave me proved reliable, I had grown comfortable. I had begun to trust it. That was the mistake.
Even if it had warned me that the Night God was trying to change Akrion, I doubt I could’ve stopped it. The process had likely happened through an artifact or by pulling him into that god’s own domain. Otherwise, it shouldn’t have been possible. Night God couldn’t use his divine power in the mortal realm for another year.
Once I found the core of the problem, the anger faded. I had never been the type to be disturbed by the problem itself - what bothered me was not knowing its cause. Now that I understood it, I could make sure it never repeated.
But first, I had to deal with the Blue Tribe. Even if Akrion was lost, the rest didn’t have to be.
I was already preparing to teleport warriors from my own tribe directly into the Blue Tribe’s camp when a glint of metal caught my attention. Akrion was holding a familiar-looking disk.
“What is that artifact, Vael Akrion?” one of the men asked.
“It will protect us from the God of Velmoryn,” Akrion replied flatly. He cut his finger on the disk’s edge and smeared blood across its surface.
He grimaced as the artifact ignited, a sudden flare consuming it. The light grew, bright enough to drown everything around him. Within seconds, the entire Blue Tribe vanished in brilliance, and the Window went white until nothing remained visible at all.
It was the Goddess’s power…
The divine energy that burst from the disk was unmistakable. The half-moon symbol carved into its surface confirmed what I already knew. On one hand, I was almost relieved. If the Night God had to rely on an artifact forged by the Goddess to blind me in the mortal realm, then the difference between our powers wasn’t as severe as it could have been.
But that thought carried another implication. The Goddess’s artifacts that still contained her divine essence were still scattered throughout the world, and the Night God likely possessed quite a few of them.
I shouldn’t waste any more time.
I pulled the Window back toward my tribe and found Mirion standing beside Gundir.
“Gather the warriors and stop the Blue Tribe from escaping,” I ordered, teleporting him into the spider mutants’ nest where my elites were.
Sending the weaker warriors would have been pointless. They would only die without achieving anything.
Mirion froze for a moment, processing what had just happened. Then he turned sharply, his expression hardening. His pace quickened until it looked almost like teleportation as he rushed to where Lucas stood.
“Lucas,” he called, his tone urgent. “Gather everyone still able to fight. Tell them their Vaels command it. They follow me now.”
Smart thinking.
I was satisfied with Mirion’s decision to rally the other tribes first and handle the politics later. It would take time for them to assemble and receive his orders, but I had no intention of waiting idly while they prepared.
I shifted the Window to where the basilisk was and teleported it directly near the Blue Tribe. I placed it as close to the settlement as my reach allowed, but the light consuming the tribe kept expanding. It spread like a tide, swallowing the forest until the outlines of the huts, fences, and even the treetops vanished behind its brilliance.
I began transferring the Velmoryns one by one. My limit was two, but after testing it, I realized that moving them together cost more Divinity Points than doing it individually. Efficiency came first.
While I worked, the basilisk advanced without hesitation. Its massive body scraped against the ground, scales grinding over roots and stone as it approached the light. Even its eyes, designed to see in pitch darkness, couldn’t pierce the glow.
So it doesn’t only blind the Window…
Still, the basilisk was more than eyes. It could smell the lingering scent of Velmoryns - faint traces of sweat, blood, and smoke clinging to the air like ghosts of what lived there. It could feel the fading warmth that usually lingered long after a crowd dispersed. Yet now, both senses betrayed it. The air carried only the aftertaste of life, the residue of incense burned in prayer, and the heavy scent of scorched wood. Its thermal vision showed nothing but a wall of white emptiness.
It slowed, muscles coiling beneath its hide. Instinct urged caution. Each movement became slower, the weight of unease pressing on the creature’s mind. It navigated through smell alone, following the scent of food, smoke and ash until it reached the settlement’s center.
There’s nothing…
The thought echoed coldly in my mind as I shared its sight. The tribe was completely empty. Unnaturally so.
Then the light began to fade, peeling away from the world like mist under the morning sun. The shapes of huts and fences reappeared, and what I saw left no room for doubt. The Blue Tribe was gone.
Everything around spoke of haste. Pots still hung above open flames, their contents boiling over and spilling down the sides. The smell of burnt grain and wet ash filled the air. Wooden plates and half-eaten bread lay in the dirt where they had fallen. Herding animals bleated in confusion inside their pens, the ropes still tied.
The tribe’s square looked deserted, but the signs of life were still fresh - doors left ajar, cloaks hanging from hooks, tools scattered near the forges. The smoke from cooking fires hadn’t even begun to thin.
I guided the basilisk toward the main hall. The door was open, and several chests were left behind near the walls, their lids half-closed and contents untouched - spare weapons, herbs, and written records. The wind pushed through the cracks in the walls, rustling parchment and scattering loose papers across the floor.
At least I’ll recover the materials, maybe even some information…
My thoughts broke. A faint sound cut through the crackle of fire and creaking wood.
“HEEEELP…”
It came from one of the larger huts at the far edge of the settlement, the same one where flames had begun to crawl up the roof, licking through the dry beams. The air around it shimmered from the heat, and I could already hear the collapse of the burning rafters.
Someone was still alive inside.
The next chapter on Friday
20 advanced chapters (includes Book 1 & Book 2) -
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