Al integrated the Estalian Auxilia, who had followed him on his second expedition, with the previous remnant forces, and then assigned them to a separate garrison further south.
The nominal reason was to serve as a forward base to keep watch against the Greenskins.
Then, Al gathered the commanders of this army and, under the guise of taking them hunting, led them deep into the forest.
Shamans, altars, and bizarre idols.
A rift silently tore open, and an invisible gust of the Winds of Chaos blew forth.
The Estalian generals and officers witnessed a great miracle with their own eyes!
The four Mother Goddesses, masters transcending the material realm, bestowed their blessings upon the mortal world.
By the time Al stood before them again, this group's address for him had changed from "You," "Your Highness," and "My Lord" into fanatical cries of:
"Son of God!"
"Your Highness the Everchosen!"
Forcibly altering the minds of these people through sacrificial blessings cost a great deal. This was not the era before the End Times, after all, and Al expended nearly half of his accumulated blessings.
He considered it completely worth it. The hardest part of any journey is the first step. With these bellwethers in place, these hundred or so officers of varying ranks quickly completed their absolute metamorphosis, becoming mortal warriors who worshipped the Four Mothers.
Al sent them back to their army, arranged for three thousand Khorngors to garrison beside them, and specifically relocated a thousand Beastmen and a thousand human civilians to settle nearby.
Among them, he strategically placed a large number of Shamans and priests of the Four Gods, and of course, stuffed a few priests of the Goddess Myrmidia in there as well.
And then began the universally crowd-pleasing trope: "Look at the gods next door."
After the End Times, both rationality and emotionality developed side-by-side. People could immerse themselves in wilder, more chaotic desires than ever before, but they could also elevate their thinking to higher realms, touching upon past taboos and secrets.
In the past, both of these signaled that terrifying danger was approaching, that corruption was imminent.
Therefore, mortals' faith in the gods was no longer defined by that fervent, unconditionally zealous fanaticism. In the past, there had been no other salvation; it was either faith or falling to Chaos and becoming a vessel of corruption.
The fact that the gods' power to intervene in the mortal realm had diminished alongside the receding of Chaos was also a major factor.
When their nation was broken and their homes destroyed, the Estalians prayed for the Goddess's protection, only to discover in panic: "The Protector of all the Southern Realms, the invincible Myrmidia, Master of Virtue and Happiness, God of Justice, God of Heritage, Creator of the Two Oceans and the Two Kingdoms..." as the Warrior Priests and leaders proclaimed.
The Goddess, who encompassed almost every aspect of a Southerner's life from birth to death, not only failed to demonstrate her omnipotence, but she couldn't even guarantee the most basic abilities—granting blessings to the Warrior Priests and providing divine aegis to the legions. This inevitably caused many to waver and doubt the faith they had stubbornly held for so long.
Radicals would even let this turn their faith into a hatred for the gods—tagging the Three-Eyed King (Archaon) here.
The priests were equally speechless about this matter, as they themselves were unclear about the Goddess's situation.
Was she truly just "accidentally ignoring the mortal realm," or was she cold-heartedly deciding that "this is all the Goddess's trial"?
Or perhaps, Myrmidia had already been captured by four unnamed single mothers, locked up in the Elysian Palace, and subjected to all kinds of pleasurable♀ games by Al's purple mom? And that's why she lost her influence over the mortal realm?
Mortals had no way of knowing.
They only knew one thing:
When I needed the Goddess the most, the Goddess put me on 'Do Not Disturb'.
Al and the Sagegors designed a few scenarios, such as:
Due to some incident, multiple people are injured. The Warrior Priests are helpless. A Shaman of the All-Father or the Loving Mother walks over, prays and casts a spell, the light of life blooms, and the wounded are healed;
Soldiers out purging beasts encounter a Troll or monster attack. The accompanying Priest of Myrmidia can't even squeeze out a basic flash spell, but a Sagegor waves its staff and unleashes magic missiles, lightning, gales, and arrows of light, casually casting a protective ward of the Wind of Light over the soldiers;
Then, the Khorngor Vanguard (serving as both commander and spellcaster) lets out a battle cry, and the Bloodmother's grace envelops the entire army! Crimson rage and steely conviction surge into their hearts!
The whole army charges!
The Priestesses of Revels would offer blessings to the exhausted soldiers after a battle, ensuring they would have an incredibly wonderful, endlessly savor-able good dream that night;
By the way, the Priestesses of Revels were mostly female Beastmen. And speaking of female Beastmen—specifically the most numerous female Gors—aside from having horns, they looked no different from normal human women.
Some had little hooves, small tails, and digitigrade legs (reverse-jointed leg structure).
For instance, bunny girls had an extra pair of ears, highly developed hearing, and some retained fluffy, furry paws that felt soft and squishy to the touch; goat girls had hooves and short tails, their hair usually thick and downy, feeling absolutely amazing...
Al had now completely adapted to these traits (said loudly)!
Regardless of human aesthetics, the Priestesses of Revels possessed a charm that crossed species boundaries. This was similar to Al's blessing of Revelry, though at a much lower level.
Myrmidia doesn't care about us!
But we still have four merciful Goddesses!
And so, as time passed, the number of soldiers seeking help and praying to the Shamans and Priests of the Four Gods gradually increased. Although many hadn't openly converted, they had grown accustomed to praying to the Bloodmother for glory, begging the Loving Mother for compassion, seeking wisdom from the All-Knowing One, and asking the Reveler for happiness...
Though, given their status as soldiers, those praying to the Bloodmother were the most numerous.
Due to the pragmatism of the human species, as well as the Estalians' heritage of open-mindedness and tolerance, not only did they not reject adding a few neighbors for Goddess Myrmidia in their "Kingdom of Faith," they were actually very happy to worship the four great powers simultaneously.
Obviously, they didn't know the truth.
The Four Mothers were tolerant yet incredibly demanding Goddesses.
Especially when all four appeared at once, every single emotion a mortal could generate would be carved up by them, leaving absolutely nothing to flow toward the silent Goddess.
Eventually, Myrmidia would be kicked out of the pantheon by the mortals themselves, who would dedicate their hearts entirely to the merciful Thrones of Chaos!
The Everchosen was deeply satisfied with his handiwork. This legion and the mortals who had been corrupted... converted to the right path, would be like drops of ink flowing into the refugees of the three cities—this "water in a barrel" completely isolated from the outside world within the Piña Forest.
Al realized that the Greenskins had already started keeping a watchful eye on his forces. He decided to temporarily shrink his perimeter for the next period, while also figuring out the movements of that mysterious Great Warboss.
He didn't plan on communicating with the Estalians for the time being. Although it could be done safely and conveniently through the Piña Forest, his plan to assimilate the refugees had just begun. It wasn't suitable to establish contact with the Kingdom of Estalia too early, so it was put on hold.
He treated this mortal army as a testing ground. The next step was to use the same method to make the Estalian representatives—the nobles, councilors, wealthy merchants, and so on—
Convert to the Four Gods!
As for Al...
He was currently...
"Ah, Madam, have we met somewhere before?"
The boy slumped against the goat mom's thighs, a half-mask covering his face. He asked lazily without even lifting his head.
Beneath the blanket, the goat mom's left hand had just grasped the Everchosen's spear, and she had to slow her movements.
Her fingertips playfully scratched little Al, gently teasing along the veins.
Outwardly, Al showed no anomalies. Only the awakened body beneath the blanket and the restless hand reaching between the goat mom's thighs indicated that Al had entered his second state of the day.
"Horny time!"
Inside the tent, guided by the Beastman maids, a few beautiful human women arrived. A female councilor was beaming, actively trafficking humans—no, recommending employees to Al.
"To thank you for lending us a helping hand, they volunteered to serve by your side as a token of gratitude. They are all single beauties..."
The goat mom's movements suddenly intensified. Al coughed and propped himself up with one hand.
"Why do I recall that this madam already has a child?"
Al casually took off his mask and placed it on the edge of the bed. Where his fingers touched the mask, a strange, viscous string of saliva lightly stretched out before snapping.
The women in the tent, mainly the human women, instantly blushed even redder.
The bolder ones were already making eyes at Al, while the more timid ones, like the widow he had saved, kept their heads bowed, not daring to look at the boy's face.
"But she indeed has no husband."
Al got a little excited, his emotions faithfully transmitted through his body into the goat mom's palm.
The pretty widow, whom Al had previously saved by descending from the sky on a Griffon, had a flushed face. Clearly, whether voluntarily or by request, she had dressed up meticulously before coming. She wore a white, church-like garment. The loose top was stretched tight by her firm, perky breasts. The open-collar design should have allowed a direct view of her cleavage, but a silk scarf was tied just below her neck, perfectly concealing that crucial spot, making it maddeningly itchy and inciting an urge to tear it away and explore inside.
Her long black hair was tied into a single ponytail, resting obediently on her left shoulder just like its owner.
It was too rushed before, so Al hadn't looked closely. Examining her carefully now, he realized this beautiful woman also possessed a figure that couldn't be underestimated—thick thighs, a plump ass, and a medium-to-tall stature among the women.
A shy expression paired with a mature body.
A widow who made one feel she was absolutely adorable!
Al moved in two places simultaneously.
Neither the goat mom nor the centaur girl objected. It must be heavily emphasized here: neither of them opposed the boy expanding his extra-curricular relationships with men and women. The goat mom had even previously brought over her single companions who helped breastfeed Al, hoping he would accept them all. It was just that Al felt (their attributes overlapped) the tribe's development was more important at the time, so he hadn't accepted them yet.
They just joined the centaur girl's exclusive maid brigade. Every time Al and the goat mom engaged in nursing play, a few resentful gazes would shoot over, as if questioning Al.
"Are my (tits) not as good as hers?"
Ahem.
"Your aid saved both her and her daughter! This... this Ms. Marlena can only choose this way to repay you. We can entrust her child to her relatives to care for. If you are willing, you could also help raise the child."
"Help raise" here literally meant just helping raise the child!
Al wasn't that deranged yet.
He wasn't Wright Baldwin!
At least not yet...
"Oh..."
Al basically ignored the other young ladies and young wives, his eyes locked dead onto the widow he had saved.
He licked his lips; the air in the tent grew hot.
"I only need one to stay and take care of me. I can't handle taking care of so many myself."
Al's words were practically naked in their intent.
The female councilor smiled faintly; she wished the boy would keep all of them, ideally including herself.
After a few more rounds of polite back-and-forth, the female councilor left with the highly disappointed rejected candidates. She was very satisfied; the boy seemed to really like that woman.
The widow who was left behind, having met him once before, was actually less nervous now. She lifted her face, looked at Al, and then bowed forward, her heavy breasts sagging downward.
She thanked Al, her voice very soft, similar to the goat mom's, but a bit more mature.
Human women seemed a bit richer in their emotional expressions.
The Reveler Mom whispered a dirty joke to Al, then giggled and left.
This made one thing clear: his own mom had watched this, and she gave it the green light!
Al seriously asked for her name.
At this point, the goat mom's hand movements were no longer disguised. She lowered her head, her downy hair falling onto Al's chest. Her breasts pressed against half of Al's face as she kissed the boy's chest.
"Did you not remember my name earlier?"
The little widow asked him in return, walking towards the boy.
Her breasts bounced, and her plump thighs were faintly visible under the robe.
"I want you to tell me yourself."
Al smiled at her.
The beautiful woman's movements hitched, almost twisting her ankle.
She sat down leaning against Al's bed, tilted her head back, and looked at the goat mom with a questioning gaze.
She knew who the primary partner was.
The goat mom didn't stop her upper body movements. She nodded slightly, simultaneously stuffing her nipple into Al's mouth.
The woman raised her hands to untie her hair, but Al stopped her.
"Just like this, I like it this way."
Blushing, she cast an undeniably resentful yet coquettish glance at Al, then gently lifted a corner of the blanket. A bone-softening, lewd scent wafted out from within.
The widow lowered her head and ducked her upper half inside.
Her heavy breasts pressed against Al's legs as she pressed her lips to him.
After a good while, the blanket had been tossed aside.
The goat mom had shifted from his side to the top of Al's head, while the widow was mostly pressing down on his lower half.
She released little Al, her lips sore and numb, casting a pleading look at the boy.
Al exhaled a stale breath, propped himself up, and leaned into the goat mom's embrace.
"Your name is just as beautiful as you are." He offered a compliment, indicating his permission.
Thus, the woman tremblingly turned around, aligned her round, plump, millstone-like ass, and slowly sat down.
"Nngh..."
The woman's body shuddered, adorable moans continuously spilling from her throat. Based on the bizarre knowledge granted by the Reveler, Al could tell she had been starved of intimacy for a long time.
So he thrust his hips upward. The widow's voice grew louder. After barely managing a few movements, her legs gave out, and she sat directly on his lap, supporting herself with her hands on either side.
Buffs being too strong isn't always a good thing; if you encounter an opponent with weak combat power, this kind of situation might occur.
Al sighed, shared a deep kiss with the goat mom, then held the widow's body with both hands and pushed her off. He got up, pushed her onto the bed, spread her thighs, and looked at her pale, flush-tinted plump body, now coated in a shiny sheen of sweat.
Her face was rosy and dripping with desire, her single ponytail hanging in front of her chest, enveloped by her breasts.
"We'll play with that later."
Al thought to himself as he parted the already well-lubricated canal and thrust inside.