Al hated riddlers.
He liked to read guides when playing games, and if he was interested in a story, he preferred finding a full walkthrough rather than experiencing it himself.
Al's vibrant, unrestrained imagination was enough to compensate for the lack of surprise.
When Lileath stated her requirements, Al had been pondering the objects she sought.
For a goddess like her—no matter how unreliable, troublesome, riddling, or defeatist she was—anything She desired must be "powerful."
It must have a special meaning.
His wandering mind soon linked it to things like "divine rank," "domains," and "priesthood" competition or absorption.
But then he thought, the divine system of the Old World was very different from the D&D system, which was incredibly popular in his previous world.
From what Al knew, instances of wars breaking out between gods were rare, and when they did happen, the reasons were often bizarre.
Like the famous Elf God of Blood, Khaine—who is angry, horny, loves chopping, but isn't entirely consumed by rage and bloodlust and actually has a brain.
He's often viewed as the cub born from a Khorne Hound raping a Slaaneshi thrill-seeker.
Khaine.
Once, due to a minor emotional dispute, he locked the Father of Elves and God of the Hunt, Kurnous, and his consort, the Mother of Elves and Goddess of Fertility, Isha, in a dark room.
He wondered if there was any "husband-watching" involved...
Then Vaul, the honest blacksmith and lovesick fool, worked himself to the bone to rescue them.
The God of Forging even got captured and tortured by Khaine because he couldn't finish the hundred god-tier items, resulting in his eyes being gouged out.
And yet, Al knew of zero instances where Isha and Kurnous—those high-ranking divine parents—showed any gratitude or rewarded the honest man.
If it were him, he'd definitely say: "Madam Isha, you wouldn't like for you and your husband to be locked up like this forever, would you?..."
And Asuryan the Phoenix King simply ignored it.
Then there's the Father of Calamities, a powerful god born of and for evil. After being deceived, he chose to slaughter his hundred children—the gods of calamity.
Blood flowed like a river, and only five escaped to lick their wounds and plan revenge against their father.
And Asuryan simply ignored it.
Then there's the Pale Queen failing to confess to Asuryan, starting a spree of stealing Elf souls to torture in a fit of rage.
After being expelled, she received no punishment and still hides in her underworld kingdom playing voodoo games.
Legend says one day the yandere goddess, driven by love-turned-hate, will launch an "aggrieved attack" on Asuryan's creations...
Scheming for treason and loudly plotting "I'm gonna rebel against Asuryan's mom."
And Asuryan still ignored it.
Sometimes Al wondered if these beings—who you could say are gods because they play harder than humans, yet are indeed high and mighty with inscrutable divine nature—
had their brains broken on the way to this world after fleeing the previous one.
Regardless, they don't die easily; even if shattered, they have a chance to be reborn, so they don't care much for efficiency or mortal affairs.
It's worth noting that almost none of the named major gods appeared during the End Times.
A powerful war god like Khaine, who could imprison the Hunter couple, was ultimately shot dead by the Shadow King, Alith Anar, with two arrows aimed at Malekith (the Witch King or the newly-redeemed Phoenix King) and Tyrion (who had gone dark and drawn the Sword of Khaine, becoming his avatar).
Khaine died along with Tyrion... and exited the stage just like that.
In the original timeline, the majority of Khaine's shards were taken by the Brass Throne Hound [Khorne]. The rest scattered, and his heart fell into the hands of Morathi—"Who hasn't slept with my mom? You're nothing—by the Great Filial Son of Naggarond."
After the victory of the End Times... or perhaps it was just delayed.
In any case, the gods, with their intelligence and sense of responsibility briefly returning, joined forces to repair the world's wounds.
Otherwise, the mortal world wouldn't have cleared the corruption and ruins so quickly over a hundred and fifty years to resume development.
And Khaine was resurrected by the worship of his followers, stepping out of the blood pool. Today, he remains one of the primary objects of worship for the Elves of the New World.
Thus, the unreliability of the gods in the Old World was certain.
At the very least, they were absolutely not the same type as the gods Al remembered—those with messy systems involving pantheons, hells, hellfires, alignments, priesthoods, and domains that provided both power and restriction.
So, Lileath asking him to "capture" two goddesses couldn't be as simple as killing them to devour their power or domains.
Al had to maintain absolute vigilance regarding anything involving Lileath, lest one day he be screwed over by this stepmother goddess with her dark record and serious history of backstabbing her own people.
He asked Lileath, but she was vague and acted mysterious.
So Al didn't press her. He turned to his own mother, sending a "nudging" poke to the All-Knowing Mom's window.
The latter simply ignored him, seemingly leaving the neglected Al to figure it out himself.
But the persistent Al stubbornly wanted a rough answer; he didn't want to be a "clueless person."
Finally, he was brushed off with explanations like: "Those who know, know; I can't say for those who don't," "This is too big for you to handle right now," and "The secrets of heaven cannot be revealed."
At that moment, Al said, "Riddlers, get the hell out of my tribe!"
The All-Knowing Mom sent a [?].
Al immediately changed his tune: "I said Mother Goddess is right."
Al also understood: this was something that would interfere with the All-Knowing One's weaving of fate. If he knew beforehand, it wouldn't go well for anyone.
So he stopped asking, only saying that he valued filial piety above all else.
Since he and Lileath now had a mother-son status, and status is everything, he naturally respected and treated Lileath like his own mother.
Therefore, he would be very attentive to her affairs.
He also took the chance to demand the goods: "You better not forget the support you promised, okay?"
He went out for a stroll.
The tribe had completely evolved from a small camp of a few hundred into a forest city with a permanent population of thirty thousand.
While not exactly grand, it had full facilities and was taking shape as Al's capital.
The streets were filled with a joyful atmosphere. The news of the great victory and the end of the war had injected vitality into all the tribespeople, especially the Estalian refugees.
During the preparations for the Triumphal Procession, this emotion spread and was released rapidly.
By now, the refugees—who had lost their homes and fled to the forest to live under the shelter of others, suffering through turmoil and fear—finally had genuine joy appearing on their faces.