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Ch 43 - The Seeds of a Stronger Tribe
🕑 Added 2025-06-12 23:06:39 +0000 UTC“I have a role for you to fulfill,” Tekla said with a warm smile, gently pulling Dariel back to his feet. “Is it true that you can communicate with the beasts?”
Dariel followed her lead and stood up, but his gaze stayed fixed on the floor, unable to meet the priestess’s eyes.
“Yes, Priestess. I can sense what beasts feel,” he answered, his cheeks coloring slightly. “But I haven’t used the skill yet...” he added quickly, not wanting to oversell his ability and risk disappointing her.
“I’ll arrange a hunting party for you,” Tekla continued, keeping her tone soft as she sensed how unusually shy Dariel was for a Velmoryn. “Will you be able to guide the group toward beasts who have recently given birth?”
Dariel’s expression shifted. For a moment, the excitement broke through his nerves, and he finally lifted his head, meeting her eyes.
“Priestess, are we going to keep the beasts inside our settlement?” The words tumbled out faster than he meant. “Father told me the Blue Tribe keeps beasts with them, and that…” He cut himself off abruptly, catching Tekla’s smile, and the earlier shyness rushed back in an instant.
“Yes,” Tekla said, still smiling as she gently led him toward the exit, where Mirion and Lucas waited. “Until now, we lacked the means to keep them, but you should be able to slowly tame them.”
Such a waste of Dariel’s potential.
I didn’t enjoy the idea of turning someone with his gifts, someone who might one day become a dragon rider or something far greater, into a shepherd. But for now, it was acceptable. He was still young, and by the time he reached adulthood, the beasts would already be fully adapted to life inside the settlement, with multiple generations raised in captivity. They wouldn’t even need a beast-speaker by then.
The scene was no longer interesting, so I pulled my attention elsewhere and turned the Window toward Lily. Tekla had assigned her to train the mages in synchronized casting, something I had shown her as a vision after watching how well the Green Tribe defended themselves against the spider swarm. Even without that powerful mage, whom I still hadn’t been able to locate despite countless searches, the Green Tribe’s mages had performed well, and their coordination had played the largest role.
Just as I was about to shift my focus, a blue notification appeared in front of me.
[Warning – Skill Failed]
Mimic Shell activation failed for two reasons: Target’s rank exceeds permitted threshold; attempted ability is not a skill, but the target’s personal spell.
The notification window might have seemed dry and stripped of detail, but it had actually revealed more than I expected. The rank gap was self-explanatory, and frankly, the least useful piece of information. What mattered was how the system had worded the failure of the second condition.
I already understood that spells and skills functioned differently. I had guessed that the skills were tied directly to the system itself, likely processed and maintained entirely through it. Spells, however, appeared to be handled differently. And now, through the wording of the message, the system had made it clearer. Unlike spells, it didn’t regard skills as something belonging to the user.
Does that mean the system can interfere with skills but not with spells?
No matter how impartial or neutral the system appeared, surrendering control of one's power to any external force was dangerous. Once again, I felt a satisfaction that I had started to train myself in channeling divine energy directly, without relying on the system’s help.
But the satisfaction was unfortunately tinged by the lingering concern:
Who did he try to use the skill on? I can only hope Avenor didn’t provoke the one to whom that third divine energy signature belongs.
There was nothing I could do about it. I had no way to interfere inside the dungeon, nor any control over what was unfolding. So I turned my focus elsewhere, shifting the Window back to Lily and her group of mages, returning to what I originally intended to check - their synchronized training.
…
Another three days passed as the Velmoryns continued improving both the tribe and themselves. Tekla’s role in it all was immeasurable. She had made sure that every single Velmoryn memorized the Ten Commandments of the Velmoryn God, and the effect was immediate. The Velmoryns thrived under structure. Once given a clear path forward and the rules to guide them, they became tireless, efficient, and almost fanatical in their discipline. The tenth commandment certainly helped as well, practically declaring any work done for the tribe’s betterment a sacred duty. So now the entire settlement was under reconstruction.
“They finished building the wall, Priestess,” Dariel reported in a low voice as they stood inside the temple. The shy boy from before was no longer there. After spending some time around Tekla, he had grown comfortable in her presence, learning that she was remarkably open and easy to speak with, unless, of course, someone went against the divine teachings. In those moments, Tekla was the most ruthless Velmoryn in the entire tribe. And her zeal was infectious. Those around her were beginning to show the same symptoms.
“By the grace of Velmoryn God,” Tekla replied, pulling her hand back from the Tree of Life and placing it against her chest. Her palm still bled faintly through her closed fist.
“By the grace of High Father,” Dariel echoed, mimicking the gesture. His face then lit up with excitement as he shifted to his favorite topic. “Priestess, I also have good news. Three Skalvyr puppies have started eating, and I can feel that the others are much calmer now.”
He was practically bouncing where he stood, clearly thrilled with his progress. Unlike what I had assumed earlier, Dariel hadn’t been assigned to care for simple livestock. He had been tasked with taming the Skalvyr - beasts the Velmoryns once used as mounts. I learned that in the past, each time my tribe had managed to acquire new puppies and begin the process of taming them, the stronger tribes would arrive soon after to take them away. Eventually, they simply stopped trying. There was no point in risking their lives to raise creatures that would only be stolen the moment they were ready.
“Is it alright if I see them?” Tekla asked as they left the temple, walking side by side toward the wall. “If it might stress them, I’d rather wait until it’s safe.”
“No, no, it won’t be an issue,” Dariel answered quickly, shaking his hands as if trying to physically push away the concern. He liked Tekla far too much to tell her that her presence might frighten the puppies. “How about I show them to you from a distance? You’ll see them, but they won’t get scared.” His voice carried a quiet plea. He didn’t want to disappoint Tekla, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting the little ones either, especially now that they had finally started to get used to the new environment.
“Whatever you think is better,” Tekla said, smiling as she reached over and gently ruffled Dariel’s silver hair.
The Skalvyr puppies were kept in a small clearing at the edge of the settlement, surrounded by tall wooden fences with several simple shelters scattered inside to give them cover and privacy. Dariel had insisted they remain close to the tribe, believing it was important for them to grow accustomed to Velmoryn voices and scents while still young.
“Priestess,” the elder Velmoryn greeted her with a respectful bow as they approached. He was the last of the old Skalvyr tamers, though age had long since robbed him of the strength to handle such energetic creatures himself.
“Should I bring the puppies out?” the old Velmoryn asked, turning his attention to Dariel as he waited for his response. The gesture didn’t escape Tekla, a faintest smile of satisfaction crossing her face.
“No, no. I’ll show them to the Priestess from here. We don’t want to startle them, not when they’re only just settling in.” Dariel was already jogging toward the enclosure, disappearing briefly behind the fence.
Tekla watched him go, then turned to the old tamer. “How is he handling the task?”
“He guides them better than I ever managed,” the old Velmoryn replied without hesitation. “It helps that he can sense what they feel, and the beasts seem drawn to him as well.”
Unlike many of the elder Velmoryns who had stubbornly clung to their old faith, refusing to acknowledge me and choosing to die as the Goddess’ believers, this one had been among the first to recognize my divinity. His devotion wasn’t exceptional, but it was strong enough.
“Priestess, look!” Dariel called from inside the enclosure, his voice full of excitement. The three tiny wolf-like creatures followed close behind him, their small frames already reaching up to his knees despite being only a few months old. Their dark green fur carried a faint shimmer of crimson runes just beneath the surface, like a hidden pattern pulsing gently with life. The Skalvyr puppies stared ahead with bright crimson eyes, unnervingly sharp for their age, and their two tails swayed behind them with agile, surely meant to aid their balance once they grew.
“They seem to like you,” Tekla called back, smiling wide as she watched Dariel run alongside the beasts. There was no mistaking the bond already forming between him and the creatures. Even though he hadn’t formally used his skill to link with them, something was already there, a natural connection that would only deepen as the Skalvyrs grew to trust him.
“How long does it take for them to mature?” Tekla asked, keeping her gaze on the puppies as they ran through the enclosure, circling Dariel playfully.
“In about a year, they’ll be old enough to hunt. Two years, and they’ll be fully grown,” the old tamer replied. For a race that could easily live centuries, two years was nothing more than a breath.
“Thank you,” Tekla said softly, offering him a polite nod without commenting further. She raised her hand toward Dariel, signaling her departure.
Right now, the tribe had thirteen Skalvyr in total. But only these three had begun adapting. Even if the others followed in time, thirteen was still a modest number. Still, the tribe was growing steadily. If they kept this pace, they would soon become far stronger than they had ever been.
The biggest problem is they can’t produce anything - no armor, no proper weapons, not even advanced structures…
For a race as old as the Velmoryns, their lack of craftsmanship was baffling. I had already spent days trying to figure out the reason, but nothing made sense.
I’ll need to check the other tribes. See how they produce their weapons and armor. The Blue Tribe has far better equipment. Someone in their tribe has to know how to make it.
Another issue was currency. My tribe still traded through simple exchange, lacking any formal system of trade or money. They had no connection to the outside world, no way to acquire goods beyond what they hunted, gathered, or traded with other tribes. Yet the Blue Tribe, despite living under the same forest, had entire chests full of coins. I hadn’t figured out how they used them or where they acquired them, but clearly, some form of commerce existed beyond my tribe’s reach.
I’ll need to develop their commerce too. But first, I need to secure the most basic thing - food.
The Velmoryns had no knowledge of farming, no crops to grow, no sustainable way to provide for themselves outside of hunting. But that much, I could fix. If I couldn’t teach them agriculture, I could simply create the food myself. Perhaps I’d create wheat using divine power, or trees modeled after the Tree of Life, bearing nutrient-rich fruits. There was much to do. But I was enjoying the process, especially since I started seeing actual progress.
“Did something happen?” Tekla asked with a faint edge of concern in her voice as she noticed Mirion speaking with one of the scouts, his expression darker than usual.
“Priestess!”
“Priestess!”
…
The Velmoryns greeted her one by one with the same reverence, bowing their heads as she approached. Even Mirion, who was still getting used to addressing his own daughter with honorifics, stepped back and lowered his head before speaking.
“The Yellow Tribe sent a demand,” he said grimly.
The moment those words left his mouth, the mood shifted. Every face around them darkened. Even Tekla’s expression fell, though she forced herself to regain her composure. The fury behind her eyes stirred, but she held it in check.
“What do they want?” she asked.
“They will arrive in two days… to take children.” Mirion clenched his jaw so hard the cracking of his teeth was audible.
“Just when we started to get back on our feet…” one of the Velmoryns muttered, thinking out loud.
Mirion sighed, hesitating for a brief moment before speaking.
“They will likely want to take Dariel too.”
A/N -
The pic didn’t turn out quite how I wanted, but it is what it is, xD.
I hope you enjoyed the tribe-building in this chapter! What do you think, what should Verde focus on first?
