Logout Error: My NPCs Now Worship Me

The silence that followed the Warden's cataclysmic punch was heavier than any sound. It was a silence filled with the ghosts of ten thousand screams, the weight of a shattered army, and the birth of a new, terrifying world order.

Seraphina sat on her horse, a lone figure of tarnished silver amidst the grotesque garden of Flora's creation. The bridge was a macabre art installation, with men frozen in postures of agony, beautiful blood-red roses blooming from their chests. It was a sight that would be seared into her memory forever.

Kaelus and his Guardians were gone. They had vanished as silently as they had appeared, leaving behind only the evidence of their wrath and a few hundred traumatized survivors to carry the tale.

Sir Kaelan, his face pale and his armor dented, managed to rally what was left of his command. They moved like automatons, their spirits utterly broken. They rounded up the survivors, including the catatonic Archbishop Thallan, whose eyes were wide and vacant, his mind shattered by the absolute failure of his faith.

There were no victory cheers from the villagers on the riverbank. They were not celebrating. They were on their knees, prostrated, their heads pressed to the ground in the direction of Oakhaven. They had been saved, but they had witnessed a power so terrible and absolute that joy was an impossible emotion. They were in a state of pure, primal awe.

The long, silent march back to the capital began. It was not a retreat; it was a crawl of beaten dogs.

In the Great Tomb of Nexus…

The atmosphere in the throne room was electric. The Guardians stood before Kaelus, basking in the afterglow of their flawless victory. The competitive tension between them had been replaced, for the moment, by a shared sense of profound, fanatical pride.

"It was perfect!" Flora chirped, her eyes sparkling. "The way their screams harmonized with the blooming of the roses! It was my greatest symphony! Did you enjoy it, my Lord?"

"The sonic resonance pulverized their internal organs with 98.7% efficiency," Boom stated, his voice a proud rumble. "A new record! Blast's initial volley was also a thing of beauty. Precision and power in one package." Blast gave a rare, almost imperceptible nod of agreement.

Gravity was studying a three-dimensional replay of the battle, projected from her Orb of Starlight. "The redirection of their holy magic was a fascinating exercise. Their own faith, when concentrated, has a tangible energy signature. It is crude and unfocused, but it can be manipulated. A useful discovery."

Kaelus listened, seated upon his throne. He was a conductor listening to his orchestra praise their own performance. They had followed his plan perfectly. They had not just won a battle; they had won the narrative. The story of the mad Archbishop who led his army to its doom against a protective, if wrathful, god was a far more powerful tool than any sword.

His gaze fell upon Force, who stood stoically, his fists clenched. "You are quiet, Force," Kaelus observed.

The monk bowed his head. "My Lord, I failed to engage the enemy's champion. I did not get to prove my strength."

"You misunderstand your role," Kaelus corrected him, his voice calm and instructive. "Your task was not to seek glory, but to ensure containment. You were the final piece of the machine, guaranteeing a perfect outcome. A screw that holds an engine together is no less important than the piston that drives it. Your discipline in holding your position, in resisting the urge for a glorious duel, has pleased me more than any simple victory would have."

Force's eyes widened. A wave of profound understanding and gratitude washed over him. He had not been overlooked. His discipline, his restraint, had been seen and valued. He bowed deeply, his loyalty cemented not by a gift, but by his master's wisdom. "Thank you, my Lord. I understand."

Kaelus then turned his attention to the most important metric. The one that truly mattered.

[Massive Influx of Faith Energy Detected!]

[Source: Elysian Plains Populace, Surviving Elysian Knights, Traumatized Elysian Leadership.]

[Quality: Mixed (Worship/Terror/Despair/Awe).]

[Conversion Rate: Variable.]

[Divine Power Gained: +2850]

[Current DP: 2917.01]

The number was staggering. The sheer emotional shockwave of the event had generated more Divine Power in a few hours than he could have hoped to gain in years. The terror of the soldiers, the despair of the hero, the worship of the saved villagers—it all converted into fuel for his ascension.

He now had enough power to enact serious change. To create higher-tier followers, to forge legendary-class items, to permanently alter the landscape of his new domain.

His first act was to reward the architects of his victory. He focused his will, drawing on the vast new pool of power.

[System Action: Bestow Divine Grace.]

[Target: Boom, Blast, Gravity, Flora, Force.]

[Effect: Permanently enhances core attributes and unlocks a new personal skill for each Guardian.]

[Cost: 500 DP per Guardian. Total Cost: 2500 DP.]

[Confirm?]

Confirm.

A colossal amount of Divine Power vanished from his reserves. In its place, five beams of pure, silver light descended from the nebulae on the ceiling, bathing each of the five Guardians in a holy radiance far more potent and pure than anything Seraphina had ever conjured.

They gasped as the power flowed into them. It was not just a temporary buff; it was a fundamental evolution of their very being. Their armor glowed, their muscles tightened, their magical energy surged. They were being elevated, brought one step closer to their god's own state of existence.

When the light faded, they felt... more.

Boom felt an explosive new energy coursing through his veins. Blast could feel the kinetic potential of every atom in the room. Gravity felt her understanding of spacetime deepen to a terrifying degree. Flora could hear the whisper of every seed and spore within a mile. Force felt a serenity and internal power that made his previous state feel like a child's.

They all fell to one knee, their submission and adoration now absolute and unconditional. They were no longer just powerful beings. They were his chosen apostles, blessed with a grace no other being in this world could ever hope to achieve.

"Your... your generosity knows no bounds, my Lord," Gravity stammered, her voice thick with emotion.

Kaelus looked down at his empowered, fanatically loyal servants. He had them. Their hearts, their souls, their very existence.

Now, he would take the kingdom.

"Rose," he commanded. The Head Maid, who had been watching the bestowment with a flicker of envy but ultimate understanding, stepped forward. "The kingdom is broken. The King is without an army, the Church is without a voice. Send the envoy."

"At once, my Lord," Rose said, a cunning smile on her face. "And what shall be our terms?"

"The terms are not a negotiation," Kaelus stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "They are a proclamation. The Kingdom of Elysia will cede the entire eastern territory, with Oakhaven as its new capital, to my domain. They will officially recognize my sovereignty. They will disband what is left of the Church of the Sacred Light and outlaw the worship of Luminara within their borders. And the King... will bend the knee."

The terms were not just harsh. They were designed to utterly humiliate and dismantle the entire structure of the kingdom.

"And if they refuse?" Rose asked, though she already knew the answer.

Kaelus's silver eyes glowed in the darkness of his helm.

"Then I will send the Warden to knock on the gates of their capital. And I will not stop knocking until the entire city is rubble."

The message was clear. The age of mortals was over. The age of Kaelus had begun. And as for the rest of the world—the other kingdoms, the empires, the ancient dragons, and the hidden powers that had yet to show their hand—they had all just received the story of the Elysian Crusade.

They now knew there was a new player on the board. A player who did not follow any of the old rules. A player who treated armies like harvestable crops and kingdoms like pieces in a game only he understood. And a wave of cold, calculating fear, a fear far more potent than any simple dread, began to spread across the globe.