Translator: CinderTL
Inside the room where the deity was worshipped, an deathly silence reigned, broken only by Galvis's heavy, stifled breaths.
His mind raced, piecing together the horrifying fragments of evidence.
The statue at the center of the divine hall, bearing Tula's face.
Its occupying the supreme position that rightfully belonged to the Great God of the elves.
Tula's affectionate nickname for the ancient name "Aros," and the tender warmth in his eyes when he mentioned it—a warmth no mere follower should show their deity.
And his failure to deny Galvis's question: "Corellon Larethian?"
All these links in the chain of evidence, like cold iron links, locked together one after another, ultimately pointing to a conclusion that made Galvis's soul tremble.
The elf before him, masquerading as Tula Morningstar, was far more than just Corellon's chosen one...
Gazing at Tula's face, still bearing its compassionate and gentle expression, yet now unfathomably profound and enigmatic, Galvis took a deep breath, summoning all his resolve to force himself to remain calm.
A bolder, more insane thought surfaced uncontrollably.
Or rather...
Is this Tula before me truly an avatar of Corellon?
"By the Gods," Galvis couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
Though a chosen one, in the hazy depths of his dreams, he had once felt the warm, intoxicating gaze of Lady Shuni.
But to face a God so directly in reality, especially one who might be the supreme deity of the elves...
This unprecedented situation left him utterly flustered, as if the very air around him had solidified, becoming heavy and suffocating.
Yet, even amidst this mental turmoil, Galvis's keen intuition, honed by years of travel and observation, suddenly issued a sharp warning.
"No... that's not right."
He forced down his panic, his gaze locked onto Tula.
At that moment, Tula tilted his head slightly, looking toward the statue of Aros in the shadows. His eyes held a complex mixture of love and deep regret.
This was not the look of a mere "believer" or "avatar." The emotions it carried were too personal, too profound.
Galvis frowned deeply.
Though all evidence pointed to Tula being Corellon, his senses clearly told him that something crucial was missing.
That unique, divine aura, the one that instinctively makes mortal things revere and submit...
The divine aura.
When he met Lady Shuni in his dream, even through the veil of the dreamscape, he could clearly sense that warm, vast, and fundamentally transcendent power.
But before him, in Tula, he felt no such fundamental difference in status.
Though Tula's aura was undeniably powerful and profound, steeped in the accumulated wisdom of ages and the radiance of magic, it remained firmly within the realm of the mortal.
Even if he was the most powerful "mortal" Galvis had ever encountered.
This contradictory sensation, like a splash of ice water, instantly jolted him awake from his initial shock.
"No... you're not Corellon!" Galvis blurted out, his voice hoarse with tension, but his eyes held an unprecedented certainty.
Tula showed no anger at this accusation. He didn't even refute it, merely nodded gently, his perfect smile unchanged.
"A keen observation, Mr. Galvis," he replied calmly, as if discussing something unrelated to himself. "Indeed, in the full sense of 'divinity,' I am not the true Corellon at this moment. But I do... carry the will and favor of the Great God Corellon, walking this world in His stead."
Here, Tula's tone subtly shifted, his compassionate expression returning, yet a peculiar undercurrent stirred deep within his eyes.
"As you've witnessed, Mr. Galvis, our people have fallen into dire straits. The mana tide returns, all things are reborn, yet our noble elven bloodline grows increasingly diluted, our strength waning like a candle flame about to burn out."
"If no one steps forward to turn the tide, our only fate is to be consumed by the river of time, to perish utterly."
He spread his arms, his flawless face alight with almost religious fervor, his voice rising in volume.
"But in an endless dream, I received revelation! A revelation from Corellon Himself!"
"If... if I can gather enough 'divine favor,' cleverly channeling the blessings other gods bestow upon their chosen ones into this vessel, I can bear more of Corellon's power. Perhaps... ultimately become His perfect vessel and agent in this world! Then..."
Tula's words trailed off, but his unbridled ambition was laid bare.
Galvis's heart lurched, a chill seeping from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
Madman!
A complete and utter madman!
To dare, with a mortal body, to steal the deeds of gods, to cross the insurmountable boundary between mortals and gods, and to elevate oneself to the divine throne.
Tula paid no heed to the mixture of shock and absurdity in Galvis's eyes. He tilted his head slightly, as if murmuring to himself, his voice low and tinged with a hint of savoring.
"Miss Avril... I have already 'accepted' the portion of the Spider Queen Lolth's 'favor' she carried."
"I must say, though her exterior is like eternal frost, her heart... is surprisingly 'ardent.' To willingly sacrifice her divine favor for her mentor—a 'crippled' man imprisoned in the depths of a dungeon for decades—is... truly touching, this bond between teacher and student."
He paused, his gaze suddenly piercing Galvis like a venomous needle.
"Now, only one last portion of divine favor remains."
Tula slowly turned to face Galvis, his smile still gentle, yet carrying an undeniable threat.
"So, Mr. Galvis, what is your choice?"
"From what I understand, you are a man of deep loyalty and strong principles. Your mentor, Vesna... Ah, what a learned and respected bard she is. And currently, she is under my 'care.'"
"If you refuse this 'honor,' I'm afraid I can no longer guarantee the safety of this great artist. After all, you know that to achieve greater goals, some... necessary sacrifices are always required."
Just as the situation reached its critical point, hurried and chaotic footsteps suddenly echoed from the previously silent corridor outside.
A slightly panicked cry from an elven warrior broke the tense standoff in the room.
"Lord Tula! Urgent military intelligence! The drow... they've used an unknown tunnel to launch a surprise attack on the outer perimeter of the Eversong Forest!"
The sudden news struck Tula's face like a stone dropped into still water, yet not a ripple of emotion crossed his features.
Not even his gaze wavered as he calmly replied, "Follow the established contingency plan. Send troops to meet the enemy and secure the main passages."
"Yes, my lord!"
The elven warrior outside clearly held Tula in deep reverence and trust. He immediately obeyed, and with the sound of rapidly receding footsteps, the corridor fell silent once more.
Yet the crisis within the room had suddenly escalated.
Tula slowly advanced toward Galvis.
To the bard's eyes, his elegant steps now resembled the tolling of death's bell.
Galvis instinctively wanted to retreat, to flee, but was horrified to discover his body was held fast by invisible shackles, so tightly bound he couldn't move a single finger.
Only in the corner of his eye could he glimpse the fingertips of Tula's hand hanging at his side, encircled by an extremely faint magical aura that distorted the surrounding light.
"Is that... Paralysis Gaze?" Galvis exclaimed, his voice distorted by his stiffened body. "How... how can you wield such a spell so skillfully? This is impossible..."
"These trivial details need not concern us now, Mr. Galvis," Tula interrupted gently, stepping forward to stand before the bard.
His eyes, like the deepest gems, now reflected Galvis's terrified face.
"It's time for your 'choice'. Will you willingly offer Lady Shuni's blessing to your mentor? Or..."
Seeing Galvis clench his jaw, veins bulging on his forehead as he desperately tried to mobilize the meager power within him against the invisible restraints, Tula shook his head gently, letting out a sigh that seemed tinged with regret.
"It seems... you've chosen the path of disobedience. What a pity."
"Though a reluctant offering will result in a significant loss of 'favor' during the transfer, diminishing its effectiveness... given the circumstances, it should suffice."
With those words, Tula fell silent.
Slowly, he raised the hand that glowed with magical energy. His fingers spread slightly, like a comforting touch, yet also like a declaration of ownership. Gently, yet irresistibly, they settled upon Galvis's head.
There was no anticipated agony, no radiant phenomenon.
Instead, in that instant, Galvis felt only a chilling, intensely draining sensation. It was as if countless invisible needles pierced the depths of his soul.
He could almost "hear" the warm, beautiful bond that connected him to some great being, now emitting a pained, strained cry under the strain.
The fundamental force that allowed him to perceive the world was being forcibly stripped away, strand by strand, flowing into Tula's hand, which seemed capable of devouring everything.
The room fell silent, save for Galvis's silent, internal scream and Tula's unnervingly steady breathing.
(End of the Chapter)
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