Five days had passed since Kivas Chariot walked into Solvish Keep with a halo above her head, five Divine Constructs trailing behind her like an escort of ominous celestial judges, and a personal bodyguard in the form of the most feared entity once known to Vaingall’s history.
That encounter carved a tremor across the fabric of the bastion, a confrontation that left none untouched, and now, on the sixth day of her survival in this world—an unbroken personal record—Kivas found herself leaning back against a curved bonewood bench in the corner of Charishe’s restaurant, skewering snacks with relaxed precision.
Samael sat beside her, an elbow on the table, calmly sipping from a ceramic mug filled with so arcane variation of tea that looked like liquid obsidian.
A pair of Tall-eared Workers darted by, one balancing a platter atop her oversized fox ears, the other twirling a spoon dramatically for no real reason.
They were not only workers, but also the mascot and tourist attraction for the restaurant after all.
It was too much sotis to the point that Kivas wanted to have one.
Samael caught that shift and could possibly be working on sothing behind the scene, unknown to Kivas herself.
Charishe stood at the end of the bench, arms crossed, lips twisted in a semi-scowl as she pointed a sharp claw at both guests. "I swear to every flavor in this kitchen, you scared the living hell out of back then when you barged into my Blood Cake Drooling plan."
Kivas grinned, slow and sly, as she plucked a round fruit coated in sothing glistening from her dish. "That wasn’t my intention. I’m only fueled by curiosity, troubled curiosity. I do not bite... unless I’m hungry."
Kivas chomped on the fruit, filled with pride after five days worth of work, pretending to be soone new, and maintaining a certain image and impression to fool the entirety of Solvish Keep, alongside the Karasu Association who backed it.
There might be so kind of back and forth between the Director of the Solvish Chapter and the communication cycle of Karasu Association that Kivas and Samael hadn’t deduced yet. But so far, everything seems to go as expected.
Samael didn’t react visibly, but the corner of her mouth tightened. A suppressed laugh, likely.
There was one ti where Samael made a riot on the street by acting extra clinging to Kivas, which was enough to give the so-called deity a giant headache because there was no indication of what kind of positive impression that could be made out of that scenario.
Regardless, almost everyone within the Solvish Keep had been inford of the deep bond between Kivas and Samael ever since that incident.
Charishe exhaled, dragging a hand down her face. "The first two days are so tense, you didn’t tell that I wouldn’t get zapped by lightning if I talk casually like this."
"You’re lucky that I’m not a cruel deity."
"I’ve t wandering gods before, but none of them acted so casually as if they were also fellow mortals," Charishe wryly grinned. "To think that we have less of a new divine regi and more of a new celebrity is enough to tell the absurdity behind it."
"That’s the problem with mortals," Kivas said, licking her fingers. "They expect gods to be serious and veiled in mystery. But mystery cos in many shapes~"
"And you decided yours was smug and slightly dangerous, while hiding a gentle and caring gap-moe?"
"Am I not providing entertainnt value?"
Kivas had no idea what ’gap-moe’ ans, but she eventually got it after filling in the holes.
"Just know that if you take your familiarity too far," Samael said with gaze piercing, unblinking, "I’ll kill you."
"I don’t think that anyone will, after the incident back then," Charishe’s face reddened a little bit now that she rembered it. "At least the two of you are consistent in your gimmick."
Much had shifted behind the scenes since that first dramatic encounter.
In the five days following the appearance of Kivas Chariot and her subsequent declaration of Vaingall’s rule, the Karasu Association had found itself subtly corralled into dialogue rather than retaliation.
It had not been a negotiation under threat, yet the presence of divine constructs, the Endless Dragon’s silent compliance, derivative blessing, and the sheer unknown behind Kivas’ identity had pushed the Solvish Keep leadership toward asured diplomacy.
The terms presented by Kivas were clear: Solvish Keep may continue relocating into Vaingall during distortions or without distortion, and may remain temporarily rooted, so long as the shrine of Kivas Chariot was allowed to be placed within its boundary. A simple trade, shrine for territory.
It had been Samael’s own instruction to Kivas that made her aware of the implication: when a deity places a shrine, they begin seeding influence.
Territory, people, fate. It was no different from marking a domain. Depending on the god, it could be benevolent or malevolent. Mocking or reverent.
For Kivas, it was her way of laying roots—like vines wrapping gently around foundations, with the potential to either nurture or constrict.
What followed was a formal event of a divine portfolio evaluation, with priest Lyenar leading the process of the assessnt.
The chamber chosen for the evaluation was a sanctified annex nestled within the deeper halls of Solvish Keep’s church. Arched ceilings filtered light through ethereal cloth mbranes that shimred with layered spiritual resonance.
Incense, mild and woven from salt-rind and lucid root, filled the air with a soothing clarity.
Jovial sat at one of the high seats used by everyone participating—a crescent-shaped throne of bone lattice and nullstone, polished flat.
Lyenar stood to her left, her posture a pillar of ceremony, a thick black to clutched in her hands.
Across from them sat Kivas Chariot, one leg crossed over the other, her halo flaming lazily above her head like a crown unbothered by the weight of history. She radiated theatrical poise as usual to maintain her pre-established persona.
On her right stood Samael, silent and stoic, arms folded loosely over her chest, gaze silent and unreadable.
Lyenar opened the to and dipped a quill into translucent ink that shimred like diluted starlight.
"We will begin the divine portfolio evaluation for the entity designating herself as Kivas Chariot," Lyenar announced, voice even and clear.
Kivas tilted her head, smile curling. "I consented to the procedure. You may proceed, mortal~"
Lyenar did not respond to the flippancy. "First category. Deities may encompass more than one concept, but each of them may only settle with two primary motifs as their divine portfolio. State the foundational thes of your divine nature."
"Fertility," Kivas said with practiced elegance. "Not just of the body, but of soil, season, and civilization. I encourage growth. I answer longing. I bloom where longing is most desperate"
Lyenar nodded once, noting the phrase with quick strokes. "And your secondary motif?"
"Harvest," Kivas replied. "Reaping, not just what is sown, but what is earned. Grain, yes. But also justice. Reward. Consequence."
Jovial’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if searching beneath the words.
Lyenar continued. "Spiritual symbolism. Sothing that every deity had encompassed and knew deep to their existence. What form do your followers associate with your essence?"
Kivas leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her palm. "Symbols of grain. The serpent, especially those who shed and return anew. Clay vessels overflowing. Milk, ripe fields, and an endless thread of red ribbon to bind prayer. You may even find white snakes in the dreams of those who brush against my presence. They like to whisper~"
Samael glanced sidelong, faintly amused.
Kivas sure took her acting seriously despite being a newby at the field.
"And your intention for worship?" Lyenar asked. "Do you demand offerings? Decrees? Rituals?"
"No." Kivas smiled faintly. "I ask for placent. I ask to grow roots. My shrines are seeds. When one blossoms, a part of settles in. I do not hunger for blood, nor fla. Simply let my na sit in a quiet place. That is enough."
"A benevolent claim," Lyenar murmured, writing swiftly. "Do you bless your faithful directly?"
"If they tend my shrines, yes. If they welco my domain into their breath, yes. They’ll find bounty. Not always grand, but persistent. And if they ask kindly..." Kivas spread her hands, "miracles co where faith gathers."
Jovial leaned forward slightly. "And if your shrines are desecrated? If your worship is mocked or twisted?"
Kivas maintained her wide and playful smile, but her expression dimd by degrees, revealing the statue beneath the mask.
Her voice thinned into chilled air.
"Then I will tear open the sky. I will salt the lands and fold the plains like sheets of regret. I will take the nas of the traitors and plant them in cursed soil, and from them, I will grow flowers that scream."
A long pause followed.
Then Kivas exhaled slowly, and her grin returned, coy and gentle.
"But until then, I ask nothing. I need no altars fashioned from gems. Just stone and honest earth will do. You may even process my grains into delicious delicacies, and I’m more than happy to savor it~"
Lyenar looked up from her notes. "You wear the air of mischief, but your words hold weight."
"I’ve been hurt before," Kivas said, eyes half-lidded. "That stays in the marrow."
Lyenar’s tone turned clinical. "Final assessnt... Your divine nature, based on this testimony and observed presence, aligns with the Benevolent Tier. You exhibit traits of a fertility deity with strong seasonal and harvest-based properties, per your statent. No malicious anomaly detected.
"And thus, your shrine placents do not present existential risk to bastion equilibrium."
Jovial nodded once. "We will accept your presence and shrine placent within Solvish Keep."
Kivas leaned back, almost lounging. "Delightful. Oh. Oh! But one more thing."
Jovial arched her brow. "I was under the impression that shrine placent alone was enough to appease you."
"Oh, I’ve been appeased," Kivas said with exaggerated sincerity. "But ectasy, Director Jovial, is a rarer fruit. And I do like rare things."
Jovial said nothing, giving the rest of the space for Kivas to continue her will.
Samael did not interject.
Kivas continued, her voice like wine poured into a quiet room. "I’d like to upgrade one of my shrines into a Major Shrine."
"So you’re asking for an individual with an advanced class within the priest path." Jovial’s expression barely shifted. Her gaze then shifted toward Lyenar. "You understand what that ans."
Lyenar’s face remained unreadable. "My Well of the Soul passed the requirent to beco a Shrine Maiden."
"And are you willing?"
"I am."
Jovial’s fingers tapped against her knee once. "Then the problem is solved."
And so it was resolved.
Four Minor Shrines now stood within Solvish Keep.
One near the primary entrance, its base shaped from interwoven roots and gold-veined wood. Another was planted in the center of the new cultivation zone, where crops had already begun to shift in quality.
A third rested outside Charishe’s restaurant, drawing occasional curious glances.
The final was embedded deep within the expanded frawork of the church, occupying a sanctified annex built specifically for those seeking resonance through Kivas Chariot’s na.
For those who wanted to level up their priest-based class, now they had a choice to attune and resonate with Kivas as their deity, which should be even more effective than rely attuning to a resonance catalyst since becoming a follower of a religion would grant them a bonus in blessings and faith.
Lyenar, having relinquished her forr post, was escorted by one of the Blessed Limbo Tier Divine Constructs toward the deeper regions of Vaingall.
There, she t with Yoiglah. The massive, shrine-bearing turtle welcod her with silence, and the process of resonance began.
It continued without pause for five days.
By the ti the sixth arrived, her soul would be on the edge of transformation, her body redrafted through divine proximity, prepared to act as a Major Shrine’s servant—a true Shrine Maiden under the harvest god’s banner.
Back in Charishe’s restaurant, Kivas plucked another fruit and twirled it between her fingers. "You’re quiet," she said to Samael.
"I’m wondering what kind of hilarity that will ensue in the future."
"And?" Kivas raised an eyebrow, acknowledging her partner’s fair share of eccentricity.
"I’m just having fun~"
Kivas laughed. "I’ll take that as a complint."
Charishe looked between the two of them, eyes squinting. "Just don’t blow up the Keep. That’s all I ask."
"No promises," Kivas winked. "But you’ve been kind. That might buy you a field of wheat soday."
Kivas could’ve also counted the amount of ti she ntioned wheat and grain thanks to the new persona that she decided as a deity.
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