The world trembled.
Not from an earthquake, but from the sheer divine shockwave of Morgana's proclamation. For a moment, an unnatural silence gripped the continent, as if every living thing had collectively held its breath. Then, the chaos began.
In the human kingdom of Vandor, the King, a man whose reign had been defined by pious devotion to the holy goddess, Uriel, dropped his golden chalice. The wine, a deep, blood-red, spilled across the marble floor like an omen. His priests, clad in their white and gold vestments, clutched their heads, their minds suddenly flooded with a presence that felt both profane and terrifyingly powerful.
DAMN!
Someone slammed the door open without knocking.
"Y-Your Majesty!" cried the high priest, an old man whose face was usually a mask of serene piety, now contorted in terror. "A... a new god! A false goddess has declared herself! Her aura... It's like a blight upon the sacred light!"
"Blasphemy!" the King roared, finding his voice, his face turning purple with rage. "Uriel's light is the only truth! Send a message to the Mage Tower, tell them to identify this... this heresy, and then have the Holy Paladins prepare for a holy crusade! We will not suffer such arrogance in Uriel's world!"
In the mage tower, dozens of scrying mirrors, which had been peacefully monitoring ley lines and elemental shifts, simultaneously cracked. The archmages stumbled back, their eyes wide with a mixture of professional curiosity and primal fear.
"By the forgotten contracts..." one of them, a woman with silver hair studded with crystals, whispered. "The sheer scale of that energy... It's not a demon lord. It's... divine. A new god has ascended. And she's strong."
In another room, the mages responsible for monitoring demon activity were... busy fucking each other's brains out, thanks to the lustful aura that slipped inside them when they tried to gaze directly into Morgana's divine aura.
One absolute rule among all the mortals in the universe: Never look directly at a god.
Fortunately for them, they only saw a glimpse of the tip of Morgana's aura, but that was more than enough to turn a room filled with fifty of the most powerful mages into a massive orgy.
As for the nobles and the common people.
The reaction was immediate. Panic. Riots. Prayers.
Some prayed to their holy goddess, begging for protection from this new, terrifying entity. Others, the desperate, the oppressed, the forgotten, felt a strange pull in Morgana's direction. Her aura, while overwhelming and terrifying, also carried undertones of blood, war, and... breeding. A promise of power, of change, of a world turned on its head. It was an intoxicatingly dangerous allure.
But the most interesting reaction came from the old followers of Lilith.
They felt it instantly. A power that was both alien and intimately familiar. A divine authority that had, in a way, replaced their fallen goddess. To them, it wasn't an invasion. It was a succession.
The womb crest in their bodies glowed with a faint crimson light. They knew. Their goddess had returned. Not as the seductive queen of demons they once worshipped, but as something far more powerful, far more primal. A mother. A creator.
And they rejoiced.
A cat-kin tribe in the southern desert fell to their knees, their tails twitching in excitement. The priestess, a lithe woman with golden fur and emerald eyes, raised her hands to the sky.
"The Mother of All has returned!" she cried out, her voice filled with ecstatic joy. She, like the rest, instinctively knew Morgana's title. "The womb crest sings her glory! Our long wait is over!"
A hidden cult in a damp, forgotten cellar beneath a remote village felt it too. They had preserved the old rituals, the teachings of Lilith, for generations, waiting for this day. Their leader, a wrinkled old woman, began to laugh, a cackling, triumphant sound that echoed off the stone walls.
"The age of hiding is over!" she rasped, her eyes gleaming with madness. "Our new goddess demands tribute! Sacrifice! We will give it to her! We will give her this village's blood and screams as a welcoming gift!"
In the frozen north, a clan of wolf-kin who had long since abandoned the old ways stopped their hunt. The alpha, a massive grey-furred man with a scarred face, felt a primal pull, a howl echoing not in his ears, but in his very soul. He looked south, towards the dark forest, and knew that their true alpha was calling.
Animals, beasts, and monsters reacted too. A herd of wild minotaurs, who roamed the central plains, suddenly changed their direction, their hoofbeats thundering towards the forest, drawn by an instinct they couldn't comprehend. Goblins in their mountain warrens grew restless, their chieftains feeling an urge to unite, to follow a new queen. Even the spiders, lurking in every dark corner, felt the call of their mother.
Deep within the ocean, a Kraken that had slept for a thousand years stirred from its slumber. Its massive eyes opened, and it too felt the call. But it was a different kind of call. A call from an old friend.
...
"This... aura."
In the Elven kingdom.
The Queen Sylvana stood in her sacred grove, her usual serene expression replaced by one of deep concern. The leaves of the ancient trees around her rustled, not from the wind, but from the sheer pressure of the divine power that had washed over the world.
A long-forgotten connection inside her, that she didn't even know existed, was now glowing, a warm, comforting sensation.
"The world tree..." she whispered to herself, her green eyes widening. "It's calling to me... and so is she."
She turned her gaze to the south, where the lost land of the gods was located. She already knew who this new goddess was. After all, she was the slave of that goddess.
"I must go," she said, her voice firm. "I must go and see my... my master and the world tree."
"Not now." A sharp, cold voice interrupted her thoughts.
She turned to see her new 'advisor' who was sent by her master to help her manage the kingdom. A tall, imposing elf woman with blond hair and cold eyes, her presence was suffocating.
Arwen.
Each time Sylvana saw her, she would feel a shiver down her spine. As the queen, Sylvana thought that she was doing a pretty good job; her skills and workload were among the best, but next to this woman, she felt like a child playing at being a queen.
"Why not, Sister Arwen?" Sylvana asked, her brow furrowed. "Don't you feel it? The call? The world tree?"
"I feel it, Your Majesty," Arwen said, her hand flipping through some reports. "And that's exactly why you can't go. Your place is here. With your people. They need their queen now more than ever."
"But..." Sylvana wanted to argue, but she was quickly cut off.
"Our goddess, Morgana, needs you to be a good girl and rule your kingdom," Arwen said, her eyes still on the reports. "She needs a stable and powerful ally in this world. Not a queen who runs off at the first sign of her master's return."
"I... I understand," Sylvana said, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Arwen was right. Her duty was to her kingdom.
Arwen, who was flipping through the reports, stopped at a specific page. A page about the King of Vandor.
"Hehehe... this foolish king," Arwen let out a cold chuckle. "He thinks he can challenge a goddess? With a few paladins? He's a fool."
"What are you going to do?" Sylvana asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Nothing," Arwen said, a smirk playing on her lips. "The goddess has her own plans. Let the fools play their games. It will be fun to watch them burn."
"..."
Sylvana didn't say anything. She just stood there, her mind racing. She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all.
She just wanted to run to her master's side, to see and feel the presence of the world tree and maybe get the chance to fill her womb with Morgana's divine cock.
'That bitch Leaf had the chance to feel the goddess's cock inside of her,' Sylvana thought, her hands clenching into fists. 'I'm the queen! I should be the one to serve her personally!'
...
"A... a goddess?" A powerful voice echoed in a hall of bones. "Hehehe... a new one?"
A massive red-horned demon, a demon god, a being of immense power, sat on a throne made of skulls and bones. He was one of the demon gods that ruled Elytheum's hell.
"Is she the one who killed our dear brother, Malthus?" another demon god asked, a cruel grin on his face. "The one who stole the First Bloom?"
The event that happened during the ritual of purification was reported back to the demon gods. They were not happy that Malthus—the one Morgana killed—had hidden something like that from them.
"Hehehe... Malthus was weak," a female demon god said, her sultry voice dripping with venom. "He got what he deserved. But this... this goddess... She's interesting. Her aura... It's divine, but it's also... demonic. And so much lust."
"She's just an obstacle," another one said, a more serious expression on his face. "We have to get rid of her before she becomes a real threat."
"What's the rush?" a fourth demon god said, a lazy look on his face. "She's new. Let her play her little games. We have more important things to worry about."
"Like what?" the female demon god asked, her interest piqued.
"Like the fact that our control over the Elven kingdom is slipping," the lazy demon god said, a lazy grin on his face. "Our dear Queen Sylvana is not as... cooperative as she used to be. I tried to send a demon to gather information, but before it even reached the capital, it was killed."
The mood in the hall of bones changed. The playful bickering stopped, replaced by a cold, heavy silence.
"Forget about the elves for now," the red-horned demon god said, his voice a low growl. "They are on high alert, and the new goddess is close to their territory. We need more information before we act."
"Then what do you suggest we do, oh mighty king?" the female demon god asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Should we send her a fruit basket?"
"Hehehe... not yet," the red-horned demon god chuckled, a cruel glint in his eyes. "We need to change our focus to the free city of Ardenholm. I heard that pure-blooded vampires have been spotted there."
"Are you suggesting we make a deal with them?" the lazy demon god asked, a skeptical look on his face. "I doubt they will be interested in working with us."
"They will be," the red-horned demon god said, a confident smirk on his face. "After all, we share a common origin."