Game of the World Tree-Chapter 538

【 DESCENT 】

A junior who’s gotten a little too carried away?

Eve’s mind stirred as she thought of a certain red dragon that had gradually begun to resemble Meryer thanks to the temptations of gourmet food and iron-brush massages from the players.

Word had it that during the war campaign against the orcs, this red dragon had been even more excited than the players themselves, always rushing to the front lines.

In fact, if the players hadn’t stopped her, Tiberia would’ve charged straight out of their camp during the orc siege just to pick a fight with the behemoths.

Tiberia had certainly brought the impulsive nature of red dragons to full display.

But…a request from an old friend?

Platinum Dragon King was a silver dragon, while Tiberia was a red dragon. Although Reinhardt was widely respected even among the chromatic dragons, relations between metallic and chromatic dragons weren’t exactly warm.

Besides, Reinhardt held the esteemed title of Dragon Lord—likely second only to the Ancestor Dragon. It seemed unlikely he would personally travel all this way just for a red dragon junior.

Evé found herself puzzled.

Noticing her slightly raised brow, Platinum Dragon King Reinhardt smiled and explained:

“Tiberia is the child of the Red Dragon King and my sister. While it’s true that metallic and chromatic dragons rarely get along, the ties between us go way back.”

The Red Dragon King?

And Reinhardt’s sister?

Wait a moment…

Tiberia was a child born out of a red and silver dragon?

Evé was surprised.

Thanks to the World Tree’s inheritance, she knew that different dragon breeds could produce offspring, though the child would inherit the traits of only one parent.

Even so, she hadn’t expected Tiberia to have such an impressive lineage..

To think she was a hybrid of a metallic and chromatic dragons.

And those dragons bearing titles of “Dragon Kings” were all lofty divine existences in their own right.

Tiberia, then, was essentially a second-generation deity.

Yet, direct descendants of deities were usually born as demigods at minimum—especially in the case of powerful ancient gods with potent bloodlines.

But Tiberia was merely a slightly stronger-than-average red dragon…

Clearly, there was more to this story than Evé knew.

Still, since Reinhardt didn’t bring it up, she wasn’t about to ask.

It wasn’t their main topic anyway.

“Of course, that’s just one reason. The real reason I’m here is to see how the little ones are adjusting,” Reinhardt continued.

Ah, so he came to check upon those young dragons whose bloodlines have been purified!

Eve understood immediately.

Reinhardt had always been known for his devotion to the legacy of dragonkind. Therefore, him caring about their well-being was only natural.

Still, Evé had a gut feeling that his frequent visits to the Elven Forest weren’t solely to check upon these young dragons.

Something told her it might have to do with her as well…

She had her suspicions before, and Hela had even mentioned that Platinum Dragon King had admired the previous World Tree. It was very likely he had already guessed her true identity, though neither side had openly acknowledged it.

Well, since he didn’t bring it up, Evé had no intention of exposing herself.

Whether Reinhardt had indeed figured out who she truly was, or was simply curious about “the elves’ new god,” didn’t really matter…

As long as she was certain of his goodwill, that was enough on her opinion.

With that thought, she smiled lightly:

“The Chosen Ones are quite fond of those little ones, and they’ve grown rapidly. However… if you want to see them, I’m afraid you’ll have to head to the Desert of Death. All the dragonlings, including Tiberia, have followed the Chosen Ones to join my Holy War.”

Reinhardt looked mildly surprised.

He glanced at Evé and gave a wry smile:

“You’re more of a warrior than I imagined.”

Did he mean warmonger?

Evé thought to herself with a hint of sarcasm.

“But perhaps a bit of fighting is good,” Reinhardt said, shifting tone.

His expression turned serious as he sighed:

“Only dragons who grow through trials of blood can truly become strong and only then can they stand against evil forces and achieve ultimate victory.”

There it is…

The natural loathing metallic dragons had for anything evil.

Still, hearing that now sparked a few thoughts within Eve’s mind…

She smiled and asked cautiously:

“You, Lord Reinhardt seem to have a deep hatred for evil beings?”

“Of course. Evil beings are prone to drawing the Abyss, lured into corruption and eventually becoming its pawns. That’s why all corrupted, evil beings are enemies of life itself,” Platinum Dragon King said solemnly.

“So… is that why you detest those evil gods who succumb to call of the Abyss? And why you’re so eager to eliminate them?”

Evé continued her probing.

“Absolutely. Every evil god is an agent of destruction and each must be judged accordingly,” Reinhardt replied with unwavering conviction.

Upon hearing his words, Evé smiled faintly.

“In that case, I happen to have some information that might interest you, Your Excellency. In fact, it concerns two evil deities: the fallen angel Luria, and the Queen of Pain, Alyssa. I wonder… do you have the time, and the interest, to hear it?”

A trace of interest appeared on Platinum Dragon King’s face.

“Oh?”

→⟐←

As a semi-nomadic race, the Orcs rarely built temples.

Typically, they enshrined statues of their god in dedicated tents or stone caves.

However, Sandstorm City was an exception.

It was a city once developed by both the Elves and Dwarves which were two races historically known for their devout faith.

At least… they used to be.

As a result, Sandstorm City not only had temples, but its sanctuaries were grand and majestic in scale.

Within the Temple of Winter and Hunt in Sandstorm City, a high-ranking priest of Gold-rank strength knelt reverently before a towering, imposing statue of their patron deity. He led a group of over a dozen Orc priests, all at least Silver-rank in strength, in fervent, zealous prayer.

Behind the prayer assembly stood the Chief Shaman, Oracle King Bazaan, several elders of the Orc royal court, and leaders from various major tribes, all gathered together.

They watched the priests conducting the summoning ceremony with solemn expressions.

At the front of the priestly assembly stood a massive altar inscribed with symbols of winter and hunt.

It was a summoning altar.

After suffering defeat in the previous battle, the Orcs had finally resolved to summon a Totem Guardian.

Watching the praying priests ahead, Oracle King Bazaan couldn’t help but glance at the Chief Shaman and ask:

“Do you know… which Totem Guardian will our Divine Father send us this time?”

The Chief Shaman furrowed his brows slightly and reminded him:

“My King, the ritual has already begun. As believers, we must remain silent.”

Bazaan looked momentarily embarrassed.

His expression shifted, and he couldn’t help but sigh:

“I’m just… deeply worried. The strength the Elves have displayed is simply overwhelming.”

The Chief Shaman shook his head.

“You need not worry, Your Majesty. While the Elves are indeed powerful, but the depths of our God’s might run far deeper than what you can imagine.”

“Our Divine Father places great importance on this operation. Therefore… all we must do is wait. For the Totem Guardian He sends down will surely be His mightiest warrior!”

His mightiest warrior…?

Bazaan’s gaze turned distant.

Indeed, the Totem Guardians were the core force of their Divine Father. Among them, the most powerful were those three demigods.

No—

It was no longer three.

One of them, Demigod Volker, had already been slain by that terrifying entity lurking within the Elven Forest.

The thought made Bazaan even more uneasy.

It had been his idea to request the aid of a Totem Guardian.

And now, he was also the one wracked with doubt and apprehension.

Of course, Bazaan understood this wasn’t the proper mindset to hold.

As king of his people, he bore a greater responsibility and should have shown more composure.

But in the end… he was merely a ruler placed on the throne under divine mandate, lacking any real experience.

Even so, he hoped to do something meaningful for his people.

“As king, I still have much to learn…”

Bazaan sighed.

The priests’ prayers continued.

And as they prayed, the altar gradually began to emit a soft, radiant glow.

It’s coming!

Everyone in the temple perked up in unison.

The glow pulsed, shifting and intensifying until it transformed into a brilliant silver brilliance.

At the same time, a divine light descended upon the central statue of the temple—piercing the veil of space itself.

It was the gaze of a True God.

The next instant, the power of faith surged and divine power crossed the void, erupting within the temple.

The most uptodat𝓮 n𝒐vels are published on freёnovelkiss.com.

Every Orc before the holy statue felt a warm and gentle force envelop them.

In that moment, they all sensed their strength beginning to rise at an astonishing rate.

This was a divine blessing which was a common boon granted to believers when they received the direct attention of their god.

Everyone’s faces lit with joy and the surrounding Orcs bowed their heads even lower, praying with renewed fervor.

Above the altar, powerful energy began to gather.

Gradually, a massive silver magic array started to take shape.

“It’s coming…”

The Chief Shaman murmured, his voice filled with both reverence and anticipation.

Under the influence of divine energy, the silver formation was finally completed.

And then, a blinding radiance burst forth from within the array.

Under the excited gaze of the surrounding Orcs, eight indistinct figures slowly began to materialize above the altar.

Moments later, their forms gradually solidified and descended into the temple.

Each of them was bathed in silver divine radiance, clad in ancient armor and winged cloaks, carrying curved bows on their backs and long swords in their hands.

They stood there, emanating an overwhelming and terrifying aura.

These were eight totem guardians at the pinnacle of the Legendary-rank!

But the summoning was not yet complete…

To the awe and fervor of the Orcs, the eight totem guardians quickly turned toward the altar and bowed low, standing in solemn anticipation.

Then, a far more powerful presence surged forth from the array, suppressing even the strength of the eight Legendary-rank guardians…

Before the expectant eyes of all present, a female figure appeared within the temple.

Like the others, she wore leather armor and a winged cloak, but her face was adorned with mysterious markings.

A faint halo surrounded her form, and divine light radiated from her entire body.

This was a totem guardian at the Demigod level!

“It’s Lady Nalan!” exclaimed Oracle King Bazaan, visibly moved.

Nalan—one of the three demigod totem guardians under their Divine Father—was said to be even stronger than the fallen demigod, Volker.

She was once a ruler among the Orcs, a legendary war leader who had led their race to victory against the human kingdoms over a thousand years ago. Many Orcs still revered her as a symbol of pride and honor.

Yet even this was not the end.

The array’s divine light continued to shine.

Moments later, another figure emerged within the temple.

This time, it was a lean warrior.

Dressed similarly to Nalan and marked with the same sacred war paint, this one, however, carried a staff that resembled withered wood.

The aura surrounding this figure was even more formidable than Nalan’s.

“Even Lord Nors has come…” Bazaan’s eyes widened.

Even the Chief Shaman was visibly delighted.

Among the Orcs, apart from priests, there were no spellcasters—this was a widely accepted truth.

Yet, history always has its exceptions. Among the long annals of their race, one such anomaly had indeed existed in the past.

Like Nalan, Nors was a historical figure who’s a rare and gifted spellcaster among the Orcs!

During his life, he had reached the fearsome level of a Legendary-rank mage, with his name striking fear throughout the entire Desert of Death.

Even among the human nations, tales of his deeds were well known.

At the same time, he had been a devout believer. After his death, his soul had ascended to Uller’s Silverfrost Expanse, where he was exalted and transformed into one of their god’s most powerful demigod totem guardians.

This time, their Divine Father had truly sent his mightiest champions.

The surrounding Orcs in the temple erupted with joy, their faces lit with hope and excitement.

Two demigods.

Eight Legendarys.

This was the full force of their God’s divine might!

Oracle King Bazaan could barely contain his excitement. He exchanged a glance with the Chief Shaman, and both stepped forward to offer formal homage to these divine envoys.

But then, something completely unexpected occurred.

As they emerged, neither Nalan nor Nors spared a single glance toward the gathered crowd.

Under the astonished gazes of Bazaan and the others, the two demigods turned in silence, knelt on one knee facing the altar… and bowed.

In unison, the eight Legendary totem guardians also turned and knelt toward the altar.

The radiance above the altar still had not faded.

The beastmen stared in stunned confusion.

“T-This… Could it be…?” The Chief Shaman’s eyes twitched, a sudden thought dawning on him.

The next moment, an ancient and boundless presence descended upon the temple.

“We welcome… Your Divine Highness!” The commanding voices of the two demigods thundered throughout the hall.

“We welcome… Your Divine Highness!” echoed the eight Legendary guardians with fervent devotion.

Your Divine Highness!?

Divine Father?!

The surrounding Orcs stood wide-eyed, their thoughts in complete disarray.

It was Bazaan and the High Priest who reacted first. They dropped to their knees and cried out in a voice filled with zeal and awe:

“We welcome… Your Divine Highness!”

Following their lead, the others quickly recovered from their shock. One by one, they too knelt, their faces overcome with joy and reverence as they all shouted:

“We welcome… Your Divine Highness!”

A divine and overwhelming pressure filled the whole temple as dazzling silver light illuminated every corner.

Ethereal hymns began to echo softly through the air…

And in the midst of the guardians’ praises and the Orc’s mix of awe, fear, and euphoria, a radiant figure cloaked in brilliant holy light descended before them—an Orc who looked exactly like the statue of Uller they had always worshipped.

Finally, Uller himself had descended in Seigües.

—

〘 PREVIOUS 〙

〘 NEXT 〙

—

—