"Nine tails? Could this be a Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox?"
For the first time in a while, genuine wonder flickered across Caelum’s face.
The Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox was the stuff of legend. Across the entire Asian Community, not a single deity had ever been officially confirmed to possess one. The closest anyone had come was Venerable Corvain, who was rumored to command a Six-Tailed Celestial Fox.
Even with only six tails, that single retainer had elevated Corvain’s domain and entire retinue to such a degree that he was now counted among the most formidable deities alive.
A bloodline capable of raising the strength of an entire domain, rather than merely enhancing a single retainer, was already closer to a divine treasure than an ordinary bloodline.
So what would happen with a complete nine-tailed bloodline?
Caelum could barely imagine it.
Yet there was an obvious problem.
For now, he was sitting on a mountain of gold with no way to mine it.
His domain was still far too fragile to support a bloodline of this level. Trying to force it into existence now would be no different from throwing a priceless treasure into a furnace and hoping it survived.
All he could do was wait.
Once his domain recovered and the bloodline sensed that the conditions were right, it would manifest naturally.
"Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox or not..." Caelum turned the golden crescent over in his palm, reluctant to put it down. "A bloodline this powerful won’t disappoint me either way."
Then another thought occurred to him.
He channeled his divine power into his eyes and focused directly on the golden crescent.
His consciousness plunged into another dimension.
A vast crystalline tree appeared before him.
Its trunk was an impossible shade of blue, stretching from the earth toward the heavens. Its branches spread outward until they seemed capable of covering the entire sky, yet not a single leaf grew upon them.
The sheer scale left Caelum speechless.
Standing beneath the trunk, he couldn’t even see where it ended.
He flew higher.
Then higher still.
Only after putting considerable distance between himself and the tree could he finally see its full shape.
It looked as though the tree itself was holding up the heavens.
’A World Tree.’
This wasn’t simply a tree.
It was the manifestation of life, evolution, and limitless potential. It represented the absolute ceiling of what this bloodline could eventually become.
The thicker the trunk, the deeper the foundation.
The more numerous the branches, the greater the number of paths available for growth.
And the trunk before him was so enormous that Caelum couldn’t even begin to estimate the depth of its foundation.
If the tree represented wisdom, then the creature born from this bloodline would possess an intelligence bordering on absurdity.
If it represented cultivation, then even the slightest effort could carry that creature to heights other races might spend entire lifetimes pursuing.
And those branches...
They were wide enough to blot out the sun.
Caelum swallowed.
There were simply too many.
Most races spent their entire lives searching for the one path that suited them best. A creature born from this bloodline wouldn’t have that problem.
Every path it chose could potentially become the right one.
His scalp prickled.
’What in the world have I stumbled into?’
He remembered the Hobgoblins’ tree of life.
Their trunk had been small enough for him to wrap both arms around, with only a handful of branches that could be counted at a glance.
Even the brief glimpse he’d caught of the Orcs’ tree during their failed evolution had dwarfed the Hobgoblins’ by nearly tenfold.
Compared to this World Tree...
They were both like mayflies staring at an endless sky.
Caelum took several slow breaths, forcing himself to calm down.
He carefully returned his consciousness to reality and lowered the golden crescent.
For safekeeping, he placed it inside Hobgoblin Hall.
’A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’
Whatever this bloodline eventually became, it wasn’t something he could use right now.
There was no point obsessing over it.
His immediate priority remained unchanged.
Rebuild his retinue.
Stabilize his domain.
Survive.
With that decision made, Caelum turned his attention to the Murloc card still resting in his other hand.
His eyes gradually sharpened.
Not long after awakening, he’d gambled everything on transforming his Hobgoblins into Orcs.
Now that he possessed the Creation Pearl, there was no reason to hesitate.
"Vassal Card. Open."
Divine power surged into the card.
The yellow cloud patterns surrounding it shattered like broken chains.
The Murloc figure at its center began to crumble.
Piece by piece, its body collapsed inward like a sand sculpture losing its foundation.
Within seconds, the entire figure disappeared.
Only a small clump of pale yellow blood remained, floating quietly in the air.
"This is the bloodline seed?"
Caelum stared at it.
He’d expected it to be weak.
Even so, it managed to fall below his expectations.
Bloodline quality was represented by color density, and this pale yellow was barely yellow at all. It was so faint that another shade lighter would have turned completely white.
’Pure white means there’s no value in cultivating it as a vassal.’
"Let’s see what your tree of life looks like before I make a decision."
He gathered divine power within his eyes once again.
The strange dimension unfolded around him.
Then Caelum simply stared.
There was no awe this time.
Only confusion.
In front of him sat a tiny ball.
Three thin strands protruded from its surface.
That was it.
No trunk.
No proper branches.
Just a small ball with three hairs sticking out of it.
"This is a tree of life?"
Caelum stared harder.
"A ball with three hairs? There’s not even a trunk. The branches are just... hairs?"
For perhaps the first time since awakening as a deity, he genuinely didn’t know what to say.
Still, after examining it more carefully, he realized the three strands weren’t completely meaningless.
They represented the three fundamental paths.
Physical body.
Spellcraft.
Wisdom.
Compared to the World Tree he’d just witnessed, however, these branches were so tiny that they might as well have required a microscope to locate.
"Low intelligence. Minimal faith capacity. Poor spell aptitude. Fragile bodies."
Caelum recalled the original evaluation of the Murlocs.
"Calling them cannon fodder is generous."
By every conventional standard, this race wasn’t worth cultivating.
But conventional standards no longer applied to him.
Not with the Creation Pearl.
In his hands, even something worthless could potentially become the foundation of something extraordinary.
And there was one particularly interesting detail about the Murloc’s tree.
It had no trunk.
That meant he could choose which branch would become one.
"What I need most right now is faith."
Caelum’s expression turned serious.
"Enough faith will keep my divine power flowing and help burn away the corruption eating through my domain."
His decision was made.
The Creation Pearl slowly rose until it hovered before his forehead.
Blue ripples spread through the surrounding space as the remaining Power of Creation began flowing toward the branch representing wisdom.
Higher wisdom meant greater faith generation from each individual follower.
That alone made it the obvious first choice.
Beyond that, wisdom affected almost every other aspect of a race’s development. In many ways, it represented the clearest measure of a bloodline’s potential.
The moment the energy entered the branch, it began to grow.
First slowly.
Then rapidly.
The thin strand thickened and stretched upward, quickly overtaking the other two.
It continued expanding until it began to resemble an actual trunk.
The other two strands were eventually swallowed by the growing structure, becoming subordinate branches that extended from the new trunk.
Then, when the trunk reached the diameter of the original ball, several tiny buds appeared near its crown.
Caelum watched them develop.
Language.
Craftsmanship.
New possibilities.
He could feel the Sanctuary approaching its current limit.
Caelum immediately stopped the flow.
He checked the remaining power inside the Creation Pearl and let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"The difference is almost insulting."
He glanced toward the golden crescent stored inside Hobgoblin Hall.
"Nurturing the Nine-Tails bloodline nearly emptied the Pearl. This barely made a dent."
He shook his head.
"Still, I’m a combat deity first."
His gaze returned to the Murloc bloodline.
"Restoring my domain is the priority, but I can’t neglect combat capability either."
The Murlocs’ bodies were simply too fragile to justify pouring most of his remaining power into physical reinforcement.
Spellcraft offered far greater potential.
"Spellcraft first. Physical conditioning second."
The Creation Pearl responded once more.
Blue light flowed into the remaining two branches.
The spellcraft branch grew first, developing new buds as it expanded.
The physical branch followed, its structure slowly becoming more substantial.
What had once looked like a ridiculous little ball with three hairs was finally beginning to resemble an actual tree.
It was still tiny.
Still fragile.
Still nowhere near the level of the bloodlines Caelum had once commanded.
But it was growing.
Caelum watched the newly strengthened bloodline for several seconds.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Just a sapling for now."
His voice carried a trace of pride.
"But one day, you’ll become something worth looking up at."
The Murloc bloodline had evolved.
From the absolute bottom of the low-grade category, it had climbed firmly into the middle of the same rank.
It wasn’t extraordinary.
Not yet.
But it was a genuine improvement, and more importantly, it was a foundation he could build upon.
Caelum looked at the tiny tree one last time.
"From this day forward..."
He paused.
"Wyrmspring Murlocs."
The name settled into the bloodline.
And with it, a new beginning.