The cold no longer bit as sharply.
It was still there, nibbling at the edges of Ayuna's fingers and curling around his ears, but after receiving his First Divine Gift, something had shifted. He could feel a subtle warmth coursing through him, like standing under sunlight hidden behind thin clouds. The Domain of Life pulsed faintly beneath his skin.
Still, the landscape around him remained desolate and unforgiving. The snow-covered forest stretched endlessly, and he had no food, shelter, or even proper boots. His breath came out in thin, frustrated huffs as he sat beneath a crooked tree, tugging his cloak tighter around him.
'Alright,' Ayuna thought, staring at the faint mist of his breath. 'First thing's first. I need a plan. A real plan. No more stumbling around like I'm on a Skyrim side quest.'
He drew a rough circle in the snow with his finger, then began scribbling out lines like a mind map.
'I'm supposed to become a god,' he thought. 'But I can't just run around blasting miracles and shouting "worship me" like some delusional cult leader. I need to build a persona. An image. A symbol that people can believe in.'
The System had told him that Faith Points were the key to growing stronger—but faith didn't just fall out of trees. People had to believe. And in a world where the gods had either vanished or turned monstrous, belief was a fragile thing.
"I need to start small. One village, maybe one person," Ayuna muttered. "Someone to plant the seed."
But that couldn't happen yet. He still didn't know anything about this world—its people, culture, politics, or what they even thought about gods now. If he charged in calling himself a deity, they'd laugh him off… or worse, stone him to death.
'Which means I need a cover story,' he mused, tapping his chin. 'A way to use my powers without drawing suspicion… at least until I've built some credibility.'
That's when it clicked.
"A wandering priest," he whispered aloud, eyes lighting up. "Of a forgotten god… No—of a completely new one."
The idea bloomed fast. If he posed as a humble priest of a new deity, he could perform miracles without raising too many alarms. People might not believe right away, but they'd be curious. And curiosity was a spark. All he had to do was feed it.
"Reymena," he said, testing the name. "Goddess of Life and Healing."
It had a nice ring to it. Close enough to sound familiar. Old-world. Gentle.
"Good," Ayuna muttered. "Then all I need is someone to impress…"
SNAP.
The sudden crack of a broken branch snapped him upright. He stood quickly, eyes narrowing toward the treeline. The wind carried more than cold now—there was blood in it. Faint, but metallic and sharp.
He moved cautiously, pushing through a thicket of frost-tipped bushes. Then he saw it.
There, slumped against the base of a tree, was a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair stuck to his forehead from sweat. His clothes were torn, his leg bleeding from a savage bite. Just beside him, a wolf's corpse lay still in the snow, its body twisted and bloodied. The man had won—but only barely.
'Wow. He's quite handsome eh?' Ayuna thought to himself as he gaze at the man's figure. He possess a charm that screams wild beauty.
"Okay, this is it. I need to focus and display my full acting skills," Ayuna muttered. "System, wish me luck."
[Good luck Host.]
The snow crunched beneath Ayuna's boots with each careful step. Cold air brushed against his face, but he kept his hood low, his cloak billowing slightly behind him as he descended the slight slope between trees. White mist curled from his lips as he exhaled, but his breath was steady, his mind focused. He followed the trail of crimson streaks in the snow—signs of struggle—and it didn't take long before he saw the source.
Clyde, the hunter, kept one hand pressed weakly against his wound. His eyes snapped toward Ayuna's approaching figure. Despite the pain clouding his vision, he instinctively reached for the dagger at his belt—but his arm faltered, trembling.
"Stay back," he growled, hoarse and defensive.
Ayuna slowed but didn't stop. Instead, he raised a hand to his hood—and slowly pulled it back.
His white skin stood out against the graying forest and pale snow, almost glowing in the cold light. His features were clear now, and even Clyde, in his injured state, found himself stunned for a moment. Ayuna's face was striking: deep black eyes that reflected no light yet held something vast, a high, noble nose, smooth and flawless skin like untouched porcelain, and lips—plump and slightly parted—giving him an expression both delicate and otherworldly.
He let his cloak fall back further, revealing more of his slender form and open palms. He looked less like a man, more like an apparition born from the snow itself.
"I mean you no harm," he said softly. His voice held warmth, but also a strange calm—like a hymn carried on the wind.
Clyde's eyes narrowed. "Who… are you?"
Ayuna stopped just a few feet away. His gaze settled on the wound, then returned to the hunter's wary face. "I am Ramiris. A humble servant of Reymena, The Goddess of Life and Healing," he answered smoothly. "I was… guided here."
The hunter's lips twisted into a grimace. "Guided? By a god?" He scoffed, then winced in pain. "Gods vanished. Or turned into monsters. They don't help people. They only bring destruction."
Ayuna didn't respond immediately. He let the silence hang for a heartbeat longer, then knelt beside the man, cloak pooling around him like dark velvet against the snow.
He raised his hand—not to touch the wound, but to hover near it. He focused, drawing on the energy inside him. It responded to his will, light and quick, like a thread pulled taut.
'Okay, let's try this gently. Just like you showed me, System. Healing Touch.'
[Activating: Minor Divine Blessing – Healing Touch.]
Power surged through his hand, and Ayuna controlled it carefully, channeling it down to his fingertips. A soft glow began to bloom—warm, pale green, like sunlight through fresh leaves. His fingers, delicate and almost ethereal in the light, glowed beautifully against the harsh red of Clyde's wounds.
'Wow… it's actually working,' Ayuna thought, half in awe. 'I don't know what kind of divine logic this world runs on, but this… this is power. And it's mine to wield.'
He touched the injured leg lightly. The light spread across the gash, washing over torn flesh and ragged skin. Clyde tensed, a sharp gasp escaping his pale lips, but he didn't pull away.
Ayuna's expression was serene—perfectly composed. Like a priest performing a sacred rite.
The magic did its work. The blood slowed, then stopped. Skin pulled itself back together, inch by inch, until only a faint scar remained. The pain faded from Clyde's eyes, replaced by disbelief.
"You… you healed me," he whispered.
"I did nothing but act as a vessel," Ayuna said gently, pulling his hand away. "It was Reymena who answered."
Clyde stared at him, the earlier suspicion not quite gone, but now tangled with confusion—and a hint of something else. Dread. Reverence. Perhaps both.
He looked down at the wolf's corpse. Then back at Ayuna. "If you hadn't come…"
"You would've bled out before nightfall and will be feasted on by other wolves," Ayuna finished for him, standing up and brushing snow from his knees.
A long silence followed. Finally, Clyde shifted, testing his leg. "You're not from around here."
"No," Ayuna said. "I'm just passing through. Spreading the will of Reymena."
The hunter gave him a long, unreadable look. "You're lucky you've met me first," he muttered. "If you say that to anyone in the village, they'd all work together to burn you. It doesn't matter if your god is one of healing. The word 'divine' is a taboo here."
Ayuna's brow furrowed faintly. 'So the fear runs that deep… even healing draws suspicion.'
"I'm aware," he said, keeping his tone soft. "But fear isn't a good enough reason to abandon hope."
Clyde sighed, then pushed himself upright with a grunt, picking up his bow and slinging it over his shoulder. Then, after a short pause, he bent down and gripped the dead wolf by the scruff.
"You coming?" he asked, hefting the beast up over his back with effort.
Ayuna blinked. "You're… inviting me?"
"I don't trust priests," Clyde said, wincing as he adjusted the weight. "But I don't like debts, either. And you saved my life. So yeah. You're coming with me. My village's a few miles east. You'll want to take shelter before nightfall, that's for sure."
Ayuna let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Then he nodded.
"Lead the way."
Clyde snorted. "You walk in front. I've got meat to carry."
And so they moved—Ayuna, walking beside a still-wary and tired but breathing Clyde. Behind them, the snow-covered woods remained still.
But in the skies above, something unseen watched, and stirred.