The air was still burning with the aftertaste of the explosion when Ramona and I stepped through the mirror's veil. The battlefield below disappeared in a swirl of cloud and light, replaced by the quiet forest clearing where our hut stood. Dew clung to the ferns, and the smell of wet earth was thick, peaceful, a stark contrast to the carnage we'd left behind.
Behind us, four bodies stumbled out of the light: the lionkin god, the fox-tailed one, the winged serpent, and the stone-horned brute. All bound by golden chains. The storm that had raged was still murmured faintly in the clouds, its echoes answering the trembling of their divinities.
Before either Ramona or I could speak, the lionkin god dropped down. His mane was ragged, streaked with ash and rain.
"Please," he said, his voice rough but still carrying that strange, royal timbre. "Let us negotiate. I beg you, spare our believers. They are the last of our kind left alive since the onslaught."
I frowned and sat on the chair outside the cabin, the wood creaking under the weight of my armour. "Explain," I said quietly.
The lionkin god looked up, eyes dim. "The god of death descended upon our realm. He slew the god of beasts, my... My father, and every high god of our pantheon. We four are all that remain… mere low-class remnants.. If our believers die, so too do we. There will be nothing left of the beast pantheon but a memory, that will soon be swallowed by the void."
I looked at Ramona. She met my gaze, and without a word, her voice slipped into my mind like a cool wind. I couldn't help but see a hint of fear and confusion on her face.
Once a god enters the Great Game, she told me, their existence becomes tethered to the first race that worships them. The beast gods are even more fragile, their father, Aladruil, created the beastmen after the first dawn. But his children were imagined into existence by the beastmen themselves. When their faith fades, the dream ends and they are erased from existence.
I nodded slowly, understanding the weight of it. I turned back to the four gods kneeling before us, their divine forms flickering faintly in the dim light.
"So," I said, leaning forward, "you've been utterly and thoroughly defeated. Tell me, then, what can you offer in return for your lives and the survival of your followers?"
They exchanged uneasy glances, their silence stretching long and thin. None of them seemed to have an answer.
I smiled faintly. "Then allow me to offer one."
Their eyes rose to me, uncertain.
"You will integrate under us. You will serve under us, as subsidiary gods. The beast pantheon is no more; you will find a new home beneath the banners of the God of Protection and the Goddess of Storms. Tell your people to seek our mercy while it is still there, and worship us as their highest gods."
The words settled over the clearing like a judgment. The fox-tailed god's ears flattened; the serpent god coiled tighter on itself. The lionkin god looked down at his bound hands, silent. The air itself seemed to hesitate.
Then, after a long moment, he raised his head.
"I swear," he said, his voice steady despite the trembling in it. "I swear eternal loyalty to the God of Protection and the Goddess of Storms. May the world itself serve as my witness."
One by one, the others followed.
"I swear."
"I swear."
"I swear."
As their voices faded, the air shivered. I looked up, and the sky above the forest cracked open with light.
A symbol burned in the heavens: the old crest of the beast pantheon, an open maw circled by stars, splintered apart with a sound like thunder. In its place, a new sigil formed: a pointed cross interlocked with a leafless tree. The light of it poured down like molten gold and sank into the hearts of the kneeling gods.
The lionkin god looked at me once more, eyes glistening faintly.
"It is finished," he said softly. "Please… take care of my people, and of us."
I stood slowly, feeling the new divine resonance in the air, the quiet bond that now tethered their lives to mine and Ramona's.
"I will," I said. "Your reign may have ended, but your people will endure."
Ramona's hand brushed mine, her storm-colored eyes reflecting the last flickers of divine light above. She still looked shaken from the beastkin god's words.
And in that moment, beneath the whispering trees and the echo of fading thunder, a new pantheon was born. I named it The Paragion Pantheon.
The morning after the oath, the forest felt… lighter. The air no longer pulsed with tension. The lionkin, fox, serpent, and horned gods' wisps had retreated to the city of gold, far above the world to rest and heal their fractured divinities.
I stood by Ramona's pool, watching ripples form on its surface. A reflection came into view, not of us, but of a large tent standing outside the beastman city. Enoch and Alfonso's temporary war court.
Moments later, I left the forest behind and stepped into the heart of Elren's encampment. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, and bad breath.
The great tent that served as Enoch's court stood at the centre of the camp its walls of reinforced canvas draped with the banners of the tree and the Cross. Inside, the noise was unbearable. Nobles shouted over one another, pounding the tables, arguing in favour of enslaving the beastmen.
"Let them serve as penance!" one barked. "They raided our villages, killed our kin!"
"They're beasts, not men!" another cried. "Cage them before they rise again!"
"Extinguish them, and bury their city with them!"
Enoch sat on a carved wooden throne beside Alfonso, both trying to maintain order, but it was clear no one listened.
Then I appeared and stood on the dais behind them.
The air froze.
Every voice fell silent as one by one, the nobles turned and saw me.
The golden aura of divinity flickered faintly around me, unbidden but impossible to hide. Murmurs died in throats. Men who moments ago were shouting now trembled. They bowed, eyes averted, as if afraid even to breathe too loudly.
Enoch half-rose from his throne, startled. "Lord Adam—"
I raised a hand, and he fell silent.
"The beastmen," I began, my voice carrying through the heavy air, "are not to be enslaved, or killed."
A few dared to look up. I felt their fear, their disbelief, and when their eyes met my form they quickly looked away their bodies clearly straining under some weight.
"They will be integrated into Elren. Their city along with any other future cities will stand under the crown's protection. They will work, trade, and live as any other subject of this kingdom."
A low murmur swept through the nobles, but none dared speak it aloud.
My gaze drifted to the far corner of the tent, where the kingdom's priests stood. Their eyes were wide, their robes trembling.
"As for you," I said, my tone sharp as lightning, "you will ensure freedom of faith. The beastmen are to worship their gods without fear, you are to worship your own gods as well under the same heavens."
I took a step forward, my shadow stretching long across the floor.
"Woe," I thundered, "to any who persecute them. For their cries will reach me, and my wrath will be swift."
A hush fell. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the echo of my words.
Then, without another glance, I turned away and disappeared from the tent. Above the city, I could hear the distant chant of beastmen priests, their voices rising with one name, my name, and Ramona's, carried on the wind like a prayer.
"Harker and Azier!"
Then, from the main temple steps, a roar echoed.
A beastkin high priest, his fur the colour of ash and gold, lifted his staff to the sky as the bells tolled. His voice thundered over the crowd:
"Hear me, children of claw and fang! The gods have spoken! The siblings of the Great Beast have returned! The forgotten ones, He Who gives light and she who burns all evil have descended to save us from doom!"
The crowd erupted. Cheers, tears, the pounding of fists against armour. The priest fell to his knees, trembling, as his words carried to every corner of the square.
"They are the new pillars of our salvation! The Lion Father of Ligjt and the Lioness Mother of Flames! Our true deliverers!"
I felt my pulse still as I watched artisans rush forward. From the shattered remains of their old idols, they began to carve anew.
It was strange, surreal. The first statue they made of me rose quickly from black stone and bronze. This time, I bore not my mortal face, but that of a lion with a mane so long it brushed the carved plates of armour. The armour was unfamiliar, angular, heavier than my Spartan set, etched with patterns of suns and leaves. In one hand, a spear; in the other, a round shield, its surface engraved with a cross wrapped by a tree.
Beside me, Ramona's likeness took form, a lioness-headed goddess with a mane that framed her helm like waves of fire, her body sheathed in layered silver plates that gleamed under the torchlight. Twin swords crossed over her chest.
"Hmm," I said softly. "I'm not sure how I feel about the mane, but at least I will receive faith from them too now"
After those words as I floated above the city, I felt a very powerful surge of energy coarse through me. My muscles and everything in me cracked with power, my mind became clearer than before.
After a while when the feeling settled, I then felt my body heavy as if all the air around me was pressing on me. It was no doubt this world starting to reject me, I had grown past its limits already but now I was pushing past its tolerance past those limits. I looked up to the sky, the golden city was visible from here. I only had 1 week left on the earth, all that was left was to wait for my year here to finish and return to the golden city.