The fiery morning sun finally broke free of the horizon, spilling golden light across the water.
By the time it reached the mouth of the cave, it illuminated the sturdy figure sitting cross-legged in meditation.
Caelum opened his eyes.
’Another day.’
For a moment, the world looked wrong.
Human eyes and Murloc eyes were positioned differently within the skull, and after spending hours immersed in a follower’s body, the transition back to his own senses always came with a brief period of disorientation. Angles seemed slightly off. Distances felt strange. Even the cave around him appeared subtly unfamiliar.
He shook his head and cleared the lingering haze.
A translucent display appeared before his eyes.
[Race: Wyrmspring Murloc]
[Category: Demi-human]
[Grade: Low (Medium)]
[Strength: 0.5]
[Speed: 0.4 (Land) / 1.4 (Water)]
[Spirit: 0.9]
Every deity learned to interpret their followers through a similar system.
It was convenient, certainly, but the first time most gods saw those numbers, they quickly discovered that convenience didn’t make them any less painful.
The values were measured against an ordinary human baseline.
A strength rating of 0.5 meant a Murloc could barely match the physical power of a determined ten-year-old. A spirit rating of 0.9 was even more limiting. Spellcasting required at least 1.5, a threshold only a small percentage of humans could naturally reach.
Among the Murlocs, only Fish Twelve had crossed it.
Her spirit stood at an impressive 1.9.
The next highest was Third Fish at 1.4.
Close, but not enough.
Caelum couldn’t help comparing the numbers to his old Hobgoblins.
[Race: Hobgoblin]
[Category: War Hobgoblin]
[Grade: Medium (Medium)]
[Strength: 2.8]
[Speed: 1.2]
[Spirit: 1.1]
[Talents: Berserk, Regeneration, Bloodthirst]
The difference was enormous.
The Hobgoblins had possessed exceptional physical strength. A rating of 2.8 placed them among the strongest mid-grade races he’d ever encountered.
Their spirit was another matter.
At only 1.1, they were fundamentally instinct-driven creatures. Even with extensive genetic manipulation, turning one into a genuine spellcaster would have been an uphill battle bordering on impossible.
"Stat for stat, the Hobgoblins completely outclass the Murlocs."
Caelum watched his breath mist faintly in the cool morning air.
"And three innate talents on top of that. That’s genuinely rare."
He paused.
"But the Murlocs have one advantage. Spellcasting comes much more naturally to them."
He frowned slightly.
"Strange. It’s almost as if the Hobgoblins have seven of their eight spiritual channels open, while the last one is completely sealed."
He shook his head.
"No matter how I approach it, that final channel just won’t open."
His gaze drifted toward the rising sun.
"Grade determines a race’s base stats, but that’s only part of it. More importantly, grade determines their potential ceiling."
He spoke quietly, organizing his thoughts.
"There are three major grades: High, Medium, and Low. Each is divided into three sub-grades, giving nine levels of potential growth in total."
"The Hobgoblins reached roughly level five."
"The Murlocs, as they are now, are barely level two."
Most followers never exceeded the limits of their bloodline.
A rare few did.
True geniuses could break through their natural ceiling and reach heights their species was never supposed to touch.
Every level increased a follower’s overall attributes, and the higher the race’s grade, the more dramatic that growth became.
Leveling was the most reliable way to strengthen a retinue.
And there were only two ways to do it.
Time.
Or resources.
Natural growth took years, sometimes generations. Heavy investment could accelerate the process dramatically.
War was usually the fastest method of all.
Caelum remembered the days when Solaris had supported his Hobgoblins. Every day, they had supplied living creatures for his followers to hunt.
The growth had been absurd.
Now?
His domain was shattered.
No sane divine corporation would invest in him.
Corwin was the only exception, a man willing to gamble his fortune on someone everyone else had already written off.
Even then, if Caelum removed all restrictions on hunting, Corwin’s savings would probably disappear within days.
And Caelum’s own accounts remained frozen.
He sighed.
"Not that it matters."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"I’m not taking investment from another divine corporation."
Not after Solaris.
The memory of their true face after his domain collapsed still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Corporate funding could accelerate his recovery. There was no denying that.
But it came with a price.
Once a company invested enough, they expected influence. Then control. Eventually, the deity’s domain stopped being entirely theirs.
After what happened with Solaris, anyone willing to invest in him now would demand terms harsh enough to dictate the direction of his entire future.
Caelum had no intention of making that mistake twice.
"It always comes down to money."
He gave a humorless laugh.
’A single coin can bring down a hero.’
The old saying remained true even in a world ruled by gods.
Cultivation required two things above everything else.
Talent.
And capital.
Without either one, advancement became painfully slow.
"I’ve got about four and a half million G-Credits."
He rubbed his chin.
"Enough to cover a semester if I spend carefully."
Unfortunately, the money was currently inaccessible.
The lawsuit with Solaris had already begun. Until the dispute was resolved, neither side could freely move the frozen assets.
And if Solaris decided to drag its feet after the verdict, there was no telling how long the process could take.
Fortunately, those four and a half million credits had nothing to do with Solaris.
Every credit was his.
Caelum had learned early that becoming wealthy as an ordinary person in the Age of Gods was brutally difficult.
So, during his student years, he’d tried to exploit everything he remembered from his previous life.
His first idea had been entertainment.
Fame had been relatively easy currency on Earth. He’d assumed the same principle would work here.
It didn’t.
Performers in this world were little more than higher-class entertainers, expected to smile, perform, and bow whenever some powerful deity wanted to watch.
So he’d moved behind the scenes instead.
Songwriting.
That failed too.
Nobody cared how good a song was if the person selling it had no reputation. And when someone did show interest, the offers were insulting.
He’d sold several songs that had once been enormous hits on Earth for what amounted to pennies here.
After that, he abandoned music completely.
Then came novels.
That worked better.
By borrowing structures and ideas from stories he’d remembered and adapting them to this world’s divine setting, he’d managed to build a modest but reliable income.
It wasn’t spectacular.
But it was enough.
Once he’d awakened his divine domain, however, even that income had begun to feel insignificant.
Deities had money thrown at them simply for existing.
Compared to that, spending entire nights typing Chapters for a living felt almost absurd.
"Still need to find another way to make money."
Caelum frowned.
The sun had climbed higher by then, its warmth spreading deeper into the cave.
Around him, the Murlocs began waking.
Sleepy murmurs filled the chamber as they rubbed their eyes and stretched their limbs.
Caelum turned toward them.
"Clean yourselves up. Worship starts soon."
The Murlocs immediately became alert.
Caelum’s expression hardened.
"And if I find out anyone is being insincere, don’t expect mercy."
The Murlocs hurried toward the pool at the rear of the cave.
Within minutes, they had washed themselves and returned, kneeling in a loose formation beside him.
Facing the rising sun, they clasped their hands against their chests and closed their eyes.
Then the prayer began.
"Great Lord of Wyrmspring, God of Murlocs, King of Hobgoblins, Lord of Creation, your humble followers pray before you."
"Thank you for the air we breathe, the waters we swim in, and the food that fills our bellies..."
Caelum silently mouthed the words with them.
He had written the prayer himself.
Even now, he still found the whole thing faintly embarrassing.
’This cave really isn’t large enough for a proper congregation.’
The Academy taught every newly awakened deity several basic prayer templates during orientation. The wording could be adjusted according to the race being cultivated, after which faith would naturally begin accumulating.
As the prayer continued, something changed.
Tiny points of golden light began appearing around Caelum.
They were invisible to the Murlocs.
But to him, they were unmistakable.
Faith.
One by one, the golden particles drifted toward Hobgoblin Hall, slowly gathering inside.
The stagnant flow of divine faith had finally begun moving again.
It wasn’t much.
Barely a trickle.
But after spending so long watching the reserves decline, even that tiny amount felt like water to a dying man in the desert.
Faith generation depended primarily on two things.
The length of the prayer.
And the number of believers.
More followers meant more faith.
Longer prayers meant more faith.
With barely a dozen Murlocs, however, there was only so much he could gain. Even if they prayed all day, the total would remain pitiful.
So Caelum kept the ritual short.
About half an hour later, the prayer ended.
The Murlocs immediately scattered.
Some tended the fire and began preparing the morning’s catch. Others gathered their equipment and prepared to return to the water. A few remained nearby, watching the fire hopefully as the smell of roasting fish filled the cave.
Breakfast came next.
Then a short rest.
After that, the day’s real work began.
Fishing.
Hunting.
Survival.
Caelum watched as his followers disappeared beneath the water one after another.
"Faith has been restored, even if only slightly."
He turned toward the ruined landscape beyond the cave.
"Now I can get back to repairing the domain."
His figure blurred.
In the next instant, he was hovering above the shattered remains of his divine territory.
Violet-black lightning tore across the landscape.
The destructive force left behind by the failed evolution continued to ravage the domain, consuming everything in its path.
The Creation Pearl had slowed it.
But it hadn’t stopped it.
Caelum stared down at the destruction.
"Let’s start with something manageable."
He selected a small fragment of the broken domain.
His divine power descended.
The surrounding space trembled as he carefully isolated the fragment from the rest of the collapsing territory.
Golden divine power surged forward.
Violet-black lightning answered.
The two forces collided.
For several seconds, they pushed against each other, neither willing to yield.
Then the opposing energies began to cancel one another out.
Light and darkness twisted together.
The violent energy gradually weakened.
And finally...
Both disappeared.