GodWithWings
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Ch 74 - The Angel That Would Not Speak
🕑 Added 2025-07-14 22:06:53 +0000 UTCA/N -
I need to fix my AC ASAP or this summer will kill me xD
Enjoy the chapter <3
**
I focused on the connection with the angel, trying to feel it more clearly. It was strange. Every other link I had with my believers carried a pulse - alive with emotion, raw with thought. The moment I focused, their minds would open like pages of an unguarded book. I could see what they longed for most, what they feared, what they tried to hide.
But this one was different.
The bond was there - strong, vivid, way more distinct than others, but it offered nothing back. I couldn't sense a single thought. No emotions. Just... silence. Either its mind was unreadable, or it didn’t have one yet. Maybe in this embryonic state, it was still forming, still figuring out how to exist.
Even so, the link was strong enough to lead me straight to its source. The embryo floated deep within my realm, the same sphere that had taken shape when I converted the entire tribe. When the crimson stars first tethered to the Oak Guardian’s manifestation, that’s when it had begun. Back then, it was pale, yet to be formed. Now it pulsed with a rich crimson hue, the same shade as my divine power, and it had even grown in size.
I drifted closer. Some part of me wanted to reach out, to see if it would react like the projection of the tree had. My hand, little more than a haze of crimson smoke and thought in this form, hovered near its surface. The sphere looked like glass, maybe crystal, hard to say.
Then I felt it, warmth.
Not the kind that radiates from heat, but something else. A gentle, comforting warmth. The sort that made you think of home. Of peace.
But that was all. No flicker. No change. Just the constant, silent presence.
It was alive. That much I knew. But it would not respond, no matter how long I focused on it.
I let my hand fall away and activated Guidance.
Does this mean my angel will be a warrior?
It would make sense. Considering my situation, I needed powerful followers, and if this one emerged with combat potential, all the better. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe I was right, but either way, having an angel at my side could only help.
That single concern I’d had about controlling the Angels and if they had the ability to go against their gods, had vanished the moment Guidance confirmed that The Angels couldn’t disobey their deities. That alone made it worthwhile. Warrior or not, it would serve. And besides, I had no doubt that my Angel would be very useful, especially since the Guidance mentioned there was something unique about them. Unfortunately, the final line of the entry was obscured so I had no clue what it was about, but I had no doubt it held a very valuable information.
But not 400 Divinity Points valuable.
Should I reveal what type of angel I’ll have?
It would only cost 50. A bargain, honestly. But I still held back. Knowing the type now wouldn’t change anything for me. Whether it was a guardian, a messenger, a reaper… it wouldn’t affect my immediate goals. I still had a long way to go before the other tribes fell under my influence, and the spring raid on the spider mutant nest was coming too. I’d need every point I had for that. And with most of the Yellow Tribe converted, hunting winter beasts would be my main source of income for a while.
My thoughts drifted, slipping from the Angel to the crimson stars, then to the tribe, the spider nest, the coming raid. I was thinking too much again. It was… too many threads at once. Even though I had gained the ability to run thousands of separate thoughts simultaneously, that didn’t mean my mind could handle all that information flooding in like an ocean with no shoreline.
Five. I’d limit it to five.
One by one, I shut the others down. The voices, or rather my own thoughts, echoes of possibilities, quieted. The strain began to ease. The silence was... extremely satisfying. Refreshing. But at the same time, it was humbling. A reminder that even as a god, my mind was still limited. Still modest in its capacity.
Eventually, I settled into five parallel thoughts. Still unpleasant, but manageable. I had no doubt that with time, I’d improve.
And then a new idea surfaced.
What if I use this multitasking to improve my control over divine power?
So far, any attempt to shape divine energy while multitasking had been inefficient at best. The moment I split my attention, costs skyrocketed. Triple, in some cases. And considering that divine power was, for me, a resource equal to life itself, waste wasn’t an option.
I narrowed my mind to two threads. Erasing the other three.
Then I reached for the crimson energy and began shaping it. Letting it curl, twist in new patterns. I played with it, testing the limits of what I could do while only half-focused.
And in the middle of that experiment... another idea took root.
I already knew that my consciousness, or rather me, functioned like a self-regenerating core. By splitting fragments of myself, I could create copies, extensions, each tightly connected directly to me. Even if Avenor had slipped from my grasp, that had been the dungeon’s doing… or the goddess’s. The basilisk, by contrast, was still fully linked. I could sense its location at any time, feel its sensations, observe through its senses. And if I wished, I could erase it with a single thought.
So… what if I created a copy of myself within the divine realm? One assigned to a single, unchanging task.
Since it would exist inside my domain, I assumed it wouldn’t even require Divinity Points. And if it inherited my abilities the way I had them, then it could serve as a dedicated listener - monitoring every prayer, checking what my vessels did, filtering what I might miss. Over time, it would be a tremendous asset for gathering information.
But there was a risk. A serious one.
If the copied entity truly mirrored me… what stopped it from becoming me?
I knew myself well enough to know the danger. If it possessed even a fraction of free will, if it was born with independence of thought, it would inevitably begin to scheme. That’s what I would do in its place. I would become Verde and discard the original.
Maybe I can restrict it.
Just like I limited my thought threads earlier. What if I created a copy with only one purpose? No autonomy, no initiative, just a singular directive. Hear and analyze the prayers. Nothing more.
If it worked, I’d also be able to test whether I could monitor their thoughts the moment they formed. If one ever strayed from its design, I could erase it before it became a problem.
I extended my hand, still hesitating. I willed for the tip of my faint, mistlike crimson limb to separate.
Nothing happened.
I’ll try a different approach instead.
Rather than issuing it like a system command, I tried to guide the entire process myself - cell by cell, thread by thread. I stretched the wisp of crimson cloud, the one that would have been my hand if I had a body. I narrowed my focus to its tip, anchored my awareness there, then pulled.
As the wisp began to peel away, I stirred my divine power and pushed it into the separation point, reinforcing the fragment with intent.
It broke away.
A sliver of me floated in front of me, no larger than a palm of a hand, but dense, humming softly with divine resonance. I shaped it further, willing it to do only one thing.
Gain the ability to hear my believers’ prayers. Nothing else.
The crimson cloud in front of me began to take shape, and as it formed, I glanced at my hand, where the tip had separated moments ago. It was whole again. Intact, as if nothing had been taken. It was the first time I had truly witnessed how my consciousness functioned, and the sight was… fascinating. Detached, self-repairing. Self-replicating.
My attention returned to the forming entity. The cloud had adopted a vague imitation of my appearance - small, translucent, its limbs loosely defined. Like a crimson wraith. A scarlet Casper.
But something was off.
I examined it more closely and quickly realized it was hollow. A shell. No mind, no thought, not even the trace of awareness. My genial experiment turned out to be a dud.
I narrowed my focus on the link we shared. The connection was there, it had been structured properly, or at least the way I had imagined it would work. I confirmed that the copy was even able to hear the prayers. But it lacked the ability to perceive them. The words passed through it, unnoticed. It was like giving ears to a rock.
I had failed.
For a moment, I considered erasing it. It would have taken no effort. But there was nothing to gain by erasing it now. If nothing else, it might prove useful for later experiments.
I pushed the thought aside. There were more pressing matters.
Avenor was calling me. Again.
And because of whatever strange restriction bound my name, I couldn’t mute him when it was invoked directly.
His voice rang out, impatient. And it was truly irritating.
“Verde, what the hell is wrong with this tree? Order it to let us through.”
I floated where the Window was and willed it to shift to Avenor’s location.
Aria, Avenor, and Karla stood before the massive crimson wall, an imposing barrier formed from Orrvyn’s interwoven roots. Its surface was as solid as stone, layered in thick bark and bristling with countless thorns. The message was clear - do not approach lightly.
“Why isn’t the Divine Tree letting us in?” Aria muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.
“It may be because of me,” Karla offered. Her hand shimmered with a soft silver light as she extended it toward the wall. She didn’t touch it, merely held it close, inspecting the surface carefully. “Your God may not allow entry to those who don’t bear His mark.”
“No, I don’t think that’s it,” Avenor said, looking at the wall blankly. “There must be…”
“Did we fail our quest?” Aria murmured, her tone thoughtful. “Maybe this is a divine sign from the High Father. Maybe we’re meant to return… to convert the Yellow Tribe before we’re allowed back in.”
She didn’t sound afraid or panicked, but the doubt was growing. She already suspected that Avenor was being punished for something, and now that suspicion was only growing.
“No. I’m certain of what I sensed,” Karla said at last. She stepped back from the wall, the mana surrounding her hand just a moment ago had now vanished. “I could not communicate with it, but I felt a warning. You two could walk through without issue. The path would open for you. But if I tried, the Guardian would attack.”
“Can’t you just teleport inside?” Avenor asked, laughing, as he tried to sell it as a joke.
Aria’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, and she instinctively took a step back from the two of them, as if expecting divine retribution and wanting to remove herself from the blast radius. Karla, meanwhile, simply laughed under her breath.
“I could,” she said, smiling faintly. “But wouldn’t that anger your God? And besides… this Guardian is stronger than I expected. Its power nearly doubled the moment we arrived. I think your God blessed it to defeat me, if necessary.”
She smiled again, but there was a bitter edge to it. Disappointment. She had hoped to establish a connection with me, and now that hope was dimming.
From her perspective, the logic held. She had no way of knowing that it wasn’t about her. The Guardian had become stronger because I had raised my rank.
There’s no point in keeping them waiting.
I turned my attention toward the Crimson Guardian and gave the order: “Let them in.”
The wall stirred. The roots twisted, shifted, and began to unfurl. A wide arc formed at the base, revealing the path beyond.
“Thank the Goddess,” Karla exhaled, smiling brightly as relief softened her expression.
“Thank you, High Father,” Aria said with a bow. Then she glanced toward Avenor. “Are you certain Huanir will be safe?”
“He’ll find his way back when he wants,” Avenor replied without looking back. “He bears the same mark we do. The Guardian will protect him.”
He started walking toward the tribe without waiting for more questions.
Now this is going to be interesting.
I was looking forward to seeing how Gundir would react to Karla, and more importantly, what I might learn about the Goddess from their conversation.
Comments
TheFoud3er12
Im imagining tiny snakes that rain from the sky, then gradually like ant man returning to normal size become the size of a basilisk.
FoxTheorem
Good soup
