Thirteen years later.
Only thirteen days had passed in the outside world.
Inside the divine domain, thirteen years had come and gone.
In that time, the original eleven Murlocs, everyone except Fish Twelve, had gradually paired off into five couples and begun raising families. By the thirteenth year, the tribe had grown to more than sixty.
And with that growth came problems.
The first was space.
The caves that had once felt comfortably large were now packed with bodies. Expansion was no longer a choice. It was a necessity.
The second problem was food.
More Murlocs meant more mouths, and the demand had already begun pushing the settlement’s resources to their limits. A quarter square kilometer of land was struggling to support more than sixty Murlocs.
Under normal circumstances, sustaining a population this large on such a small territory would have been impossible.
Fortunately, Wyrmspring was anything but normal.
"Great Lord of Wyrmspring, God of Murlocs, King of Hobgoblins, Creator, your humble believers pray devoutly before you..."
More than sixty Murlocs knelt in orderly rows across the open ground outside the cave.
The rising sun painted their scales in warm gold as they faced the horizon, eyes closed and hands clasped against their chests.
Faint golden motes drifted upward around them.
Slowly, they gathered together before flowing toward the mountain above.
Toward Hobgoblin Hall.
Inside the ancient stone structure, the accumulated faith settled around the statue at its center.
The stone figure began to change.
Its rough features shifted.
Its body broadened.
Its head stretched forward.
Scales slowly covered the stone surface as the statue transformed into the familiar form of a broad-shouldered, fish-headed Murloc.
Fish Leader.
"Hoo..."
The prayer finally ended.
Caelum opened his eyes.
With a thought, he summoned a panel woven from his divine power.
[Divine Domain: Wyrmspring]
[Divinity: 2 → 1 | Hobgoblin → Wyrmspring Murloc]
[Divine Power: 2]
[Divine Fire: Unlit | Requirements for lighting Divine Fire not met]
[Believers: Wyrmspring Murloc | 1 Pious Believer, 20 True Believers, 39 Lay Believers]
[Faith Power: 4425]
Much like the status panel used to evaluate his followers, this was simply a convenient way for a deity to monitor his own condition.
Divinity was condensed from accumulated Faith Power.
Roughly ten thousand points of Faith Power could be converted into a single point of Divinity.
Divinity, in turn, determined the upper limit of a deity’s Divine Power.
The greater the Divinity, the greater the amount of Divine Power a deity could ultimately command.
Once a deity accumulated one hundred points of Divinity, they could attempt to ignite their Divine Fire and forge a Divine Spark.
But there was a catch.
A Divine Spark created that early was incredibly weak.
It could barely support a fledgling divine kingdom, and a sufficiently talented rival might even be capable of extinguishing it from outside the domain.
Worse, a weak Divine Spark could never support a large divine territory.
One serious mistake could send the entire kingdom collapsing.
The only real alternative was to join an established pantheon as a subordinate deity, exchanging independence for stability.
Naturally, unless a deity had exhausted every other option, almost nobody was willing to take that path.
And even then, successfully becoming a True God remained an incredibly difficult feat.
That alone demonstrated just how brutal the road to true godhood really was.
Caelum’s own Divinity had fallen from two points to one by choice.
He had deliberately broken down his Divinity into raw Faith Power, sacrificing long-term potential for the immediate Divine Power needed to repair his shattered domain.
Thirteen years of continuous repair had brought the domain to roughly eleven percent completion.
But every repair consumed Faith Power.
The stockpile left behind by the Hobgoblins had gradually dwindled alongside the restoration process.
Eventually, he had been forced to make a choice.
His own Divinity had become the only resource left to sacrifice.
If his Divinity dropped below one point, his Divine Power ceiling would shrink to almost nothing.
The entire situation had become a vicious cycle.
High Divinity meant a higher Divine Power ceiling.
But without Faith Power, Divine Power would eventually run dry.
Without Divine Power, domain restoration slowed.
Without restoration, there was no room for the population to expand.
Without population growth, Faith Power generation remained stagnant.
And without additional Faith Power, the domain could never recover.
Breaking down his Divinity wasn’t really a solution.
It was simply buying time.
The remaining four thousand-plus Faith Power would last approximately another twelve days in the outside world.
Inside the domain, that meant another twelve years.
If the number of believers didn’t increase substantially before then, he would hit a wall.
Caelum looked at his current believer distribution and gave a faint, bitter smile.
Believers were divided into five levels.
Lay Believers.
True Believers.
Pious Believers.
Fanatic Believers.
And finally, the exceedingly rare Holy Spirits.
Each successive level generated vastly more Faith Power than the one before it.
His single Pious Believer, Fish Twelve, generated ten points of Faith Power every day.
His twenty True Believers produced twenty points combined.
The thirty-nine Lay Believers barely managed another four.
Thirty-four points of income.
Against nearly four hundred points of daily expenditure.
A deficit of roughly three hundred and fifty points every day.
"Genuinely a headache."
Caelum rubbed his forehead.
"Still, the situation should correct itself eventually."
He looked toward the Murlocs.
"At their current growth rate, and assuming their believer ranks continue improving, that deficit will gradually disappear. Give them enough food and enough room to develop for another dozen years, and things should stabilize."
His calculations suggested the population could reach roughly a thousand within another thirteen years.
If only a dozen of them eventually became Pious Believers, that alone would generate enough additional Faith Power to cover his daily consumption.
Perhaps even leave him with a surplus.
"Hoo..."
Caelum slowly exhaled.
Some of the tension left his shoulders.
Then he glanced toward the increasingly crowded cave.
"Expansion can’t wait any longer."
His gaze swept over the settlement.
"The Wyrmspring Murlocs need to leave the caves. They need to spread across the plains and rivers."
The Hobgoblins had been given everything.
Food.
Shelter.
Tools.
Guidance.
Every obstacle had been removed before they could even encounter it.
And in the end, that had contributed to their weakness.
The Murlocs had been far more self-sufficient during these thirteen years.
But even they had been protected from true hardship.
Natural disasters.
Resource shortages.
Dangerous predators.
Real hunger.
They had experienced difficulties, but never enough to truly test them.
"Starting today, that changes."
Caelum’s expression hardened.
"No more making things easy for them."
"If they can survive genuine hardship without their will breaking, if they can come out stronger instead of weaker, then they’ll have earned the right to become my main force."
Combat-capable followers were common enough.
A strong body could be cultivated.
Powerful techniques could be taught.
Even intelligence could sometimes be enhanced.
But a will that refused to break under pressure was something else entirely.
Caelum had learned that lesson through the Hobgoblins.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
If the Wyrmspring Murlocs proved themselves capable of enduring real hardship, he would pour everything the Creation Pearl could offer into them.
He would forge them into a true combat force.
In divine warfare, determination could matter more than raw statistics.
"Finish your breakfast. We’ll begin shortly."
His voice carried across the settlement.
The Murlocs were gathered around several scattered campfires.
There were far more fires now than thirteen years ago.
Beside each one sat a pair of older Murlocs wearing woven vine-leaf garments, marking their status within the tribe.
Mothers held newborns close as they fed them.
Toddlers ran across the open ground, wrestling and chasing one another until someone inevitably fell and started crying.
The oldest children of the second generation had grown considerably.
Some were already nearly as tall as Caelum’s current Murloc body, approaching 1.2 meters.
They crowded near the shoreline, staring excitedly at the piles of stones gathered for their future homes.
When Fish Leader’s voice sounded, everyone turned toward him.
The younger Murlocs immediately cheered.
They had been waiting for this day.
The cave was cramped, uncomfortable, and constantly filled with the complaints of their elders.
They wanted homes of their own.
The older generation was more reserved.
Glances passed between them.
Some looked indifferent.
Others were quietly supportive.
A few were clearly unhappy.
And one pair of eyes held something more complicated.
Fish Twelve.
Over the past decade, five couples had formed within the tribe.
Caelum had chosen none of them.
Fish Twelve remained the only unmarried female among the original Murlocs.
She was also still the most talented member of the tribe by a considerable margin.
She had confessed her feelings to him more than once.
And Caelum had rejected her every time.
There was nothing particularly unusual about a deity forming a relationship with one of their followers. Plenty of such examples existed throughout the divine community.
But Fish Twelve was different.
She had Hero Unit potential.
If Caelum bound her to himself as a partner, there was a possibility that her growth would become tied to his own.
He refused to take that risk.
Whatever she felt for him, he would not allow it to become a chain around her future.
Not even for her sake.
Breakfast ended quickly.
After a short rest, the tribe gathered and began moving.
Inside the cave, beside the shallow pool, Fish Second and Third Fish remained behind for a moment.
Several fish drifted lazily through the water.
Third Fish watched them in silence.
Then he spoke.
"There aren’t enough fish anymore."
Fish Second didn’t look at him.
"Say what you actually mean."
Third Fish paused.
Thirteen years had changed him.
The simple-minded Murloc who had once cared about little beyond his own fish count was gone.
The man standing here now had learned how to think.
Conversations with him required actual attention.
"Is the Leader’s plan really the priority?"
Third Fish gestured toward the cave entrance.
"Building houses. Expanding the settlement. Shouldn’t we be thinking about food first?"
Fish Second finally turned.
"Are you questioning the Leader?"
"No."
Third Fish immediately shook his head.
"Not questioning him. I’m just saying you’ve seen it yourself. The fish in this cave are getting fewer."
He pointed toward the pool.
"We’re catching plenty every day, but the water isn’t getting any bigger. If the tribe keeps growing at this rate, eventually we’ll fish this place dry."
Fish Second remained silent.
He understood the concern.
But every decision Fish Leader had made over the past thirteen years had proven correct.
There was no reason to assume this one would be different.
Still, he suspected Third Fish had another reason for objecting.
As the tribe had grown, individual catches had become smaller.
Third Fish’s portion had suffered more than most.
Without other Murlocs quietly giving him extra food, some of his children would probably have gone hungry more than once.
Yet Third Fish himself had never seemed to suffer.
If anything, he’d grown heavier.
Fish Second’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"I trust the Leader."
He faced Third Fish directly.
"You’re smarter than me. You’ve always been smarter than me."
Third Fish blinked.
"But you’ve only ever used that intelligence for yourself. You’ve always been good at making sure your own belly stays full."
His expression hardened.
"The tribe might not say it to your face, but they’ve noticed."
"If you used that mind of yours to improve the harvest for everyone, you’d have both their respect and their gratitude."
A whistle sounded from outside.
Fish Second turned toward the entrance.
"Take care of yourself, Third."
He walked away.
Third Fish remained beside the pool.
He stared down at the thinning water.
"Respect doesn’t fill a stomach."
A short while later, the tribe split into five family groups.
The women and younger children remained behind to prepare the cave and watch the youngest members while the others headed toward the construction sites.
Five locations had been selected below the mountain.
Each stood on relatively flat ground where the mountain met the shoreline.
Piles of stone and timber had already been gathered at each location.
Collecting those materials had taken days.
It had also consumed a considerable amount of the tribe’s food reserves.
"Chief Dan!"
A young Murloc elbowed the older boy beside him and grinned.
"Once the new house is finished, you’re marrying Naia Reed! You’d better work hard today!"
Dan Bass was the eldest son of the Bass family.
After thirteen years, he had reached adulthood.
And this year, he was set to marry Naia Reed, the eldest daughter of the Reed family.
Thirteen years had changed the tribe in more ways than simple population growth.
Fish Second had long since overcome his old stammer.
Fish Fifth’s family had been the first to properly establish itself.
Fish Fourth had eventually chosen a real name for himself.
Lu.
He had taken it from the sea bass he caught so frequently that the fish had practically become his signature.
The others followed his example.
Fish Second became Reed.
Third Fish became Shell.
Fifth became Whale.
Sixth became Bream.
The naming tradition spread naturally through the tribe.
Only Fish Leader remained without a surname.
Hearing his younger brother’s teasing, Dan tried to suppress the anticipation in his eyes.
He failed.
A smile appeared on his face.
Then he lightly smacked the boy on the head.
"Of course I’ll work hard."
He puffed out his chest.
"I’m the oldest of our generation. I’ll be the first to marry and the first to have a house. Someone has to set the example."
He pointed toward his younger brother.
"And don’t slack off, Finn. Catch plenty of fish today. Everyone’s dinner depends on you."
"Mm!"
Finn nodded solemnly.
The seriousness of his expression made Dan laugh.
The family groups soon began separating toward their assigned construction sites.
Before leaving, Dan glanced back.
Across the clearing stood the Reed family.
A young Murloc woman was already looking in his direction.
The wind caught the fin along the back of her head and gently swept it from side to side.
Like seaweed drifting beneath the waves.
Dan smiled.
For some reason, the morning breeze suddenly felt much warmer.
Before long, all five families reached their designated locations.
The older Murlocs gathered around crude house designs scratched onto pieces of bark.
The drawings were rough.
Very rough.
Uneven lines represented walls.
Simple shapes marked doors.
Some Murlocs understood the sketches immediately.
Others stared at them as though they were written in an alien language.
A few gathered their children around them, explained the designs carefully, assigned tasks, and began working in an organized fashion.
Stone was carried.
Timber was dragged into position.
The first foundations were laid.
The tribe had begun building its first true settlement.
None of them noticed what was happening beyond the shoreline.
The sea was calm.
Too calm.
For a long moment, nothing moved.
Then the surface rippled.
Once.
Twice.
A small wave rolled toward the shore.
And somewhere beneath the clear water, something enormous shifted.
The Wyrmspring Murlocs had spent thirteen years preparing to face hardship.
They simply didn’t know yet that hardship was already coming for them.