GodWithWings
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Ch 24 - Voice of the God
🕑 Added 2025-05-27 00:04:51 +0000 UTC
I read the entire notification in an instant, my excitement pushing everything else aside.
So classes aren’t randomly assigned? Or was this just a coincidence?
Tekla, the one with the purest devotion, even stronger than Roy’s, had been granted the Priestess class. Unless this was some absurd stroke of luck, it meant the system, or whatever force determined class assignment, wasn’t random. It actually tried to match Velmoryns with roles that suited them best.
Maybe it was a mistake to choose a class for Roy myself…
For a moment, I regretted not letting the system handle his blessing. Maybe things would’ve turned out better if I had. But I pushed the thought aside as there was one line in the system notification that kept pulling at my attention:
My voice would now be heard by Tekla.
She could actually hear me.
Not sense me. Not interpret signs. Hear me.
Before jumping to conclusions, let’s check her Status Window first.
After seeing her physical stats, my heart sank.
There were children in the tribe with better constitution than Tekla. Fragile didn’t even begin to describe it, she looked like one bad flu away from dying.
I meant to keep reading, to review the rest of her stats and skills, but something in my divine realm stirred.
The space around me, normally blank white with drifting clouds, suddenly shifted. A faint glow sparked to life beside me, a small, crimson star pulsing softly in the void.
I didn’t need to check what it was.
I knew even before it materialized.
It was Tekla. Or rather, the bond now forming between her soul and me.
With Roy and Aria, I had to focus to feel their emotions. But with Tekla, it was different. The connection was alive.
Even without trying, I could feel her emotions. I could hear her thoughts. I could almost taste the shape of her desires.
Even without looking at her, I knew that she was crying right now. But they weren’t tears of sadness. She was happy. Overwhelmingly so.
The warmth of it radiated across the link, reaching me before I could brace for it.
Then came something else - a surge of raw determination. It hit so strongly it bled into my own thoughts, catching me off guard.
This connection… it’s dangerous. I’ll need to be careful with it.
I turned my attention back to the glowing crimson star, wanting to examine it more closely. But before I could, I heard her voice in my mind.
“God… thank You,” she whispered, her voice trembling, like a quiet prayer on the edge of sleep.
And then - the surge of joy.
“I can feel You more vividly than before.”
It startled me, her voice was not distant and vague like when other Velmoryns prayed. It felt like she was standing next to me, whispering in my ears.
I considered responding. Saying something back. But I didn’t have anything to say, not anything worth saying. Gods didn’t make small talk. If I was going to speak, it had to mean something.
And then, it came to me.
“The faithful shall rise. The faithless shall fall.”
I didn’t know if it would work. I didn’t even have a voice in this realm - just intent, a push of thought carried through the bond. But the moment the words passed into her mind, I felt the answer.
A burst of emotion - joy, love, reverence - flooded back at me. The crimson star pulsed brighter, its glow shimmering across the divine plane.
She had heard me.
“Gather the chosen. Those without strength shall receive it. Those without purpose shall be shaped. The worthy shall be blessed.”
I focused on the words, shaping them slowly. Tried to sound ancient. Like something from a forgotten myth. Not just for effect, but because it mattered. I wasn’t human anymore.
And as I spoke, I realized something else.
Bit by bit, I was adapting.
The way I spoke. The way I thought. Even the tone of my words was beginning to shift.
It wouldn’t be long before I left my old self behind completely.
And became Verde, in truth.
“As You command,” came her voice, soft, breathless, and brimming with excitement.
My plan had been simple: gather the believers, bless those I had chosen. But this time, I wouldn’t let it appear random or quiet. Tekla would be the center of it. I would let her turn the ritual into a spectacle - something majestic and divine. A moment designed to stir awe in the hearts of every Velmoryn still clinging to the memory of the fallen Goddess.
I had spent too many Divinity Points recently. It was time to reclaim some of them.
Wait, I haven’t even checked how many Divinity Points I have left…
I pulled up the numbers, and for a moment, I genuinely considered looking for a refund button.
From my once-proud total of 168.1 Divinity Points, I now had just 76 left.
Twenty-five points. Just for one blessing.
Either blessing a Silver rank was fifty times more expensive than a Bronze... or Tekla was an exception.
And only then did the full weight of that decision settle in.
If I had blessed Aria instead of Roy back then, if I’d chosen the Gold-ranked cynic over the devoted Bronze, I would’ve emptied my divine core. I would have perished without even realizing what hit me.
I didn’t dodge that disaster by foresight. I dodged it by luck.
Or maybe, by instinct sharpened by something.
<<<>>>
“Tekla…” Mirion’s voice reached me faintly, low and rough as he crouched beside her.
She was still kneeling, her hands resting on the ground, shoulders trembling. Whatever remnants of the divine flood still lingered in her body were slowly fading.
“What was that? Are you alright?” His voice was strained, but no longer frantic. Now that he saw she was unharmed, panic was slowly fading.
“I’m well,” Tekla replied, grinning, her voice soft but firm. She reached out and cupped his face with both hands, tears streaking down her cheeks. “He spoke to me… He chose me as His priestess.”
Mirion didn’t answer right away. His brows drew together. His jaw clenched. I even heard the faint crack of grinding teeth.
“Your mother wasn’t enough…” he said at last, voice low and hard. “Now you’ve to follow that same path too?”
His eyes glossed over. Tears slipped down his cheeks, slow and bitter. They fell onto Tekla’s fingers, still resting gently on his face.
“Father,” she said quietly, “He is different.”
That was all.
She let go, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then she stood.
And the girl who rose wasn’t the same one who had knelt.
Everything about her felt different - her posture, her steps, the way the air seemed to bend slightly around her.
If before she moved with quiet grace, now she moved with purpose.
There was a weight behind her steps. A presence. It took me a few seconds to recognize it.
She was radiating my divine aura.
So… it’s like the opposite of Passing the Divinity. Wait… Is her mana that low because she can channel and use my divine power directly?
I wasn’t sure. But it felt like a good guess. Whatever the reason, I now had a Velmoryn capable of using my power directly. And I wasn’t exactly thrilled about that.
I shifted my focus back to the Window, watching as Tekla stood before the tribe, as she announced that she had been chosen as a priestess… and that I would now begin blessing the worthy.
A growing crowd of Velmoryns gathered around her, the atmosphere already shifting. They stared at her with awe. Some bowed. Others clutched their chests in silent reverence.
This is going to be a long and expensive show.
…
When I woke up, the battle was already over. The cries of despair had faded, replaced by quiet mourning and the groans of the wounded.
My body ached, the cold and weakness still clinging to me, though not as sharply as before. My head throbbed with a dull pressure, and when I opened my eyes, the light nearly blinded me - it felt like someone had driven a needle straight into my temple.
The first thing I noticed was that my head was resting on something soft and warm, even though I was still lying beneath a tree.
Is this one of those moments from movies where I’m supposed to wake up in Aria’s lap and learn she secretly loves me?
I was surprised by myself - that I still had the energy and desire to joke. I shifted and turned my head, only to see Huanir snoring gently beneath me.
I sighed in relief.
He was alive.
Still groggy, I checked his body thoroughly, even lifting his paws one by one to make sure he was truly healed. No injuries. No blood. Every wound had closed.
Only then did I start to relax.
And that’s when the smell hit me.
My eyes burned. My nose twitched. Huanir and I both reeked, still soaked in dried spider mutant blood, and the stench around us was unbearable. We were surrounded by rotting corpses of the monsters, their acidic fluids already beginning to fester in the heat.
I stood up slowly, wincing as my muscles protested. The camp around me was in chaos.
Velmoryns ran in every direction, carrying wounded, hauling supplies, tending to the dying, or moving the dead. The settlement itself was nearly gone. What used to be homes and structures was now little more than broken wood and ash.
“I’ve never seen a Velmoryn who loves sleeping more than you,” came a familiar voice behind me.
I turned and saw Ninali, arms crossed, looking more exhausted than smug.
“At least I earned it this time,” I said, managing a weak laugh.
“You were lucky,” she muttered, handing me a small purple vial. “You emptied your mana and didn’t even have a potion on you.”
She shook her head like she was scolding a reckless child who just grabbed a scorching torch.
“I still don’t know enough to prepare for everything,” I said flatly, accepting the vial and drinking it in one gulp.
The warmth of mana returned quickly, pushing out the last traces of cold and fatigue still clinging to my body.
And just as I lowered the empty vial from my lips, another voice reached us - rough, direct, and unfamiliar.
“Is this the one who was helped by the god during the fight?”
I turned, only to find a Velmoryn towering over me, easily twice my size, wrapped in heavy armor with a massive shield strapped across his back.
I swallowed instinctively.
If he decided to fight, I wouldn’t last long in my current state.
“Yes. I am,” I said, keeping my voice steady. Lying didn’t seem like the smart move, especially if it risked insulting him.
He looked me over, brow twitching slightly. Unimpressed.
“If you truly are the blessed one,” he said, voice low and solid, “I have a request for you.”
