Logout Error: My NPCs Now Worship Me

The moment Kaelus stepped back through the [Gate], the oppressive, soul-crushing weight of his presence returned to the throne room. It was like the sun reappearing from behind an eclipse; his Guardians, who had been standing in a state of suspended animation, could breathe again.

The portal, its purpose served, silently folded in on itself and vanished, leaving no trace.

Kaelus was as he was before—a silent, obsidian monolith of a being. But now, they had all seen. They had witnessed the first exercise of his power in this new age.

Gravity's face was flush with color, her usual aristocratic composure completely gone. Her purple eyes, which had been fixed on the scrying image, were wide with a mixture of awe and scholarly fanaticism.

"Incredible…" she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion. "The efficiency… the sheer, casual rewriting of atmospheric phenomena for a Tier 5 spell… My Lord, you haven't just adapted to this world's laws. You have subjugated them completely! The foundational mana of this reality bends to your will like a dog before its master!"

Flora, on the other hand, was pouting. Her innocent expression was one of profound disappointment. "He didn't even let me have one," she lamented, a genuine sadness in her voice. "Their screams would have made such lovely fertilizer for a new patch of bloodroses. It was all over so quickly."

"Fools," rumbled Boom, his voice echoing in his massive helm. He slammed a gauntleted fist into his open palm, creating a sound like a thunderclap. "You saw only the small things! Did you not witness the mountain? Our Lord casually erased a mountain! As a warning! That is the power of a true sovereign!"

Blast, his silent twin, simply nodded, a glint of profound respect in his eyes. He understood the message perfectly. It wasn't about the goblins. It was about demonstrating a scale of power so vast that conventional warfare became utterly meaningless.

Rose, the Head Maid, had her own, more pragmatic take. Her serene smile was back in place, but her mind was clearly working at a furious pace. "A most… illuminating demonstration, Lord Kaelus. This confirms that the immediate vicinity of the Great Tomb is secure from mundane threats. It also provides us with a new imperative: information. We must understand the political and military structures of this world, so that we may know which mountains are the most… strategically advantageous to remove in the future."

Their interpretations were all correct, yet all incomplete. They saw it as a calculated display of divine will. They couldn't possibly comprehend the truth: it was a man, trapped in a god's body, doing a weapon's test.

Their faith in me is absolute, Ravi thought, the cold realization settling in his gut. They will rationalize anything I do as part of some grand, infallible plan. This is… dangerous. And useful.

He needed to solidify their perception. He had acted. Now, he needed to give the act meaning.

"It was a… whisper," Kaelus stated, his resonant voice filling the hall. The Guardians fell silent, hanging on his every word. "A whisper to the foundations of this world, to let it know that its new master has arrived."

He let the unbelievably arrogant statement sink in. The effect was instantaneous. His Guardians practically vibrated with secondhand pride. Their god was not just powerful; he was poetic in his omnipotence.

"The remnants of that encounter are irrelevant," he continued, subtly addressing Flora's disappointment. "They were insects. You do not treasure the ants you crush beneath your heel."

Flora's face brightened immediately. "Of course, my Lord! How foolish of me. To think I would desire the scraps from your divine table. I shall await a truly worthy enemy to turn into a masterpiece for you!"

Crisis averted. Ravi felt a bead of sweat that didn't exist trickle down his back. This is like walking through a minefield of ego and psychopathy.

He turned his attention back to the scrying image, which he had kept active. It now showed the woman from the cart. She had scrambled out and was frantically checking on the body of the driver, her shoulders shaking with sobs. The child, a little girl with wide, frightened eyes, was clinging to her leg, but her gaze was fixed on the spot where Kaelus had vanished.

Then, the woman did something unexpected. She helped her daughter to her knees, and facing the direction where Kaelus had stood, she pressed her forehead to the ground in a deep, reverent bow. The little girl, seeing her mother, did the same.

They were praying. To him.

A deep, profound sense of unease settled over Ravi. This was too much, too fast. He was just a guy. He wasn't equipped for this.

He dismissed the scrying image with a wave of his hand. He couldn't watch anymore.

"Rose," he commanded. "Your point was astute. We are blind. I want to know everything. I want to know the names of the kings of this land, the gods they worship, the strength of their armies, and the color of their soil. Use whatever means you deem necessary."

Rose bowed deeply, a flicker of genuine pleasure in her eyes at being entrusted with such a critical task. "It will be my singular honor, Lord Kaelus. I will dispatch the Shadow Assassins and the True Sight Observers immediately. You shall have your information."

"Good." Kaelus turned and strode back to his throne, the heavy obsidian seeming to welcome him. He sat, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. The immediate crisis was over, but a thousand new questions had taken its place.

What was this world? Who were its true powers? And the most terrifying question of all: if that was a Tier 5 spell, what would happen if he ever lost control and unleashed a Tier 10? Or a Super-Tier spell? Could he accidentally destroy the entire planet?

As he sat in silent contemplation, his servants respectfully keeping their distance, a new notification flickered in the corner of his vision. It wasn't a system error. It was something else.

[Faith Energy Detected.]

[Source: Unnamed Human Female, Unnamed Human Child.]

[Quality: Pure (Awe/Reverence).]

[Quantity: Trace.]

[New System Unlocked: Divine Power.]

[Description: Faith from sentient beings can now be collected and converted into Divine Power. Divine Power can be used to create items, followers, and modify aspects of reality. Current DP: 2.]

Ravi stared at the text, his mind reeling. What? Faith energy? Divine Power? This wasn't in the game!

This was new. This was a fundamental change to his very existence. He wasn't just a player with maxed-out stats anymore. The system itself, the core of this reality, was acknowledging him as a deity. The prayers of that woman and child, as insignificant as they were, had unlocked something terrifying and profound.

He now had a tangible metric for the worship he inspired. And a way to use it.

His internal shock was absolute, but on the outside, a slow, almost imperceptible change occurred. The two points of silver light that served as his eyes, hidden within the darkness of his helm, glowed with a newfound, chilling intensity.

His servants felt it. A subtle shift in their master's aura. The power was still absolute, but now it was tinged with something else. Something ancient, and hungry.

Gravity shivered, a delicious thrill running up her spine. "My Lord…" she whispered to herself. "He's evolving."

Elsewhere, several hours later…

In the bustling trade city of Oakhaven, the largest settlement in the region, the 'Adventurer's Rest' tavern was alive with the sound of drunken laughter and boisterous stories.

A grizzled mercenary with a scar over his eye slammed his tankard down. "And then, I told the Baron, 'If you want the wyvern's head, you'll pay the wyvern's price!' Hah!"

His companions laughed, but a young adventurer at the end of the table, polishing his new steel sword, scoffed. "Wyverns are nothing. I heard a patrol from the capital ran into a Manticore in the Westlands. Took a whole squad of knights to bring it down."

Suddenly, the tavern doors burst open. The sounds of the lively night outside were silenced. A woman, her clothes torn and stained with dirt and blood, stumbled in, dragging a small, shell-shocked child behind her.

It was the woman from the cart. Her name was Elara.

The tavern went silent. Everyone stared at the wretched sight. The tavern keeper, a large, balding man named Bort, rushed over.

"Good gods, woman! What happened to you? Goblins?"

Elara nodded, her eyes wide and haunted. "Yes… they… they killed my husband…" she sobbed, collapsing onto a nearby bench.

Murmurs of pity went through the crowd. Goblin attacks were common on the outer roads, a sad fact of life.

"The knights should do more to patrol those roads," someone muttered.

Bort gave Elara a mug of water. "You're lucky to be alive, miss. How did you escape?"

Elara took a shaky sip of water. She looked up, her eyes no longer filled with just grief, but with a terrifying, feverish light.

"We didn't escape," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "We were saved."

The grizzled mercenary snorted. "Saved? By who? A passing patrol?"

Elara shook her head slowly. "No." She took a deep breath, her gaze becoming distant, as if seeing it all again. "It… it was a god."

A few patrons chuckled. The poor woman was clearly out of her mind with grief.

"A god, you say?" the mercenary asked, playing along. "One of the main pantheon? The Sun Lord? The Earth Mother?"

"No," Elara insisted, her voice growing stronger. "He was new. He was… silent. A tall figure, clad in midnight and shadows. He just… appeared. And the goblins… they died screaming without him even touching them."

The tavern was dead quiet now, the patrons leaning in, a mixture of skepticism and morbid curiosity on their faces.

"He raised his hand," Elara continued, her own hand trembling as she mimicked the gesture, "and a bolt of light turned one of them to dust. Then… then he looked at the mountains…"

Her voice broke. The little girl, who hadn't spoken a word, pointed a shaking finger towards the window. "The mountain…" she whimpered. "The mountain went boom."

Everyone turned to look out the tavern's grimy window. The sun had set, but the sky to the east was clear. And everyone in Oakhaven had noticed it by now, had been whispering about it all evening.

The familiar, jagged peak of Mount Cinderhorn, a landmark for as long as anyone could remember, was gone. Its top third had been sheared clean off, as if by the hand of a colossal, angry god.

The tavern patrons stared from the unnaturally flat-topped mountain on the horizon, back to the wild-eyed woman and the terrified child.

The laughter was gone. The skepticism had vanished.

A cold, thrilling, terrifying thought began to spread through the room like a plague.

What if she was telling the truth?