After visiting Leon and entrusting him with a pendant for his sister, I wasted no time and returned to my domain. The moment I stepped inside, I felt the familiar stillness of my divine realm embrace me.
Now then… mortals need food daily, but gods are different. We can go much longer without eating—days, months, even years—sustained solely by our divine energy. Many gods see this as a blessing, a way to avoid the "inconvenience" of meals. I can do that too, of course, but why should I? It would be a waste of Points, and more importantly, it would rob me of the joy of creating something with my own hands.
This time, I've decided I won't simply eat to survive—I'll cook to savor. I will become not only the strongest god but also the finest chef in existence. My kitchen will be my battlefield, my ingredients my soldiers, and my utensils my weapons.
I set to work. The steak sizzled as I seared it on a pan forged from dragon scales. The peppers released a fragrant spice that danced in the air, making my nose twitch. The lotus petals simmered in a golden broth until they were soft and fragrant. The whole domain smelled like heaven's kitchen—if heaven had one.
Finally, I plated it all: the sky-bison steak glazed in stardust honey, lotus petal soup steaming gently, a side of roasted fire-crystal peppers, and the glowing sun-pear for dessert.
I sat, knife and fork in hand, and took my first bite. The steak melted in my mouth. The soup was like drinking a memory of spring. The peppers… well, they nearly burned my tongue off, but in a good way. And the sun-pear? Pure bliss.
Leaning back with a satisfied sigh, I chuckled. "If cooking were a divine trial, I'd ascend twice over. Honestly, I might have just created the eighth wonder of the world. Should I open a restaurant? No… the line would be so long, it'd stretch across three realms. Mortals would probably start worshipping me just for the food… which, now that I think about it, doesn't sound so bad."
By the time I plated my creation, the aroma alone could have tempted even the hungriest of mortals—or the most disciplined of gods. And tonight, this god would feast not just on food, but on his own craftsmanship.
After finishing my meal—a feast that cost me only eight Points of divine power—I leaned back and let my mind wander.
"Now then… time to decide my future plans," I muttered.
The answer came quickly: a farm. Not just any farm, but a divine farm that could feed me for centuries without draining my Points.
First came the crops. I envisioned golden fields of rice stretching to the horizon—each stalk heavy with plump grains that gleamed in the sunlight. Beside them, neat rows of wheat swayed gently, perfect for bread, noodles, and pastries. I added rich, green lettuce heads, crisp and full of life. Carrots with roots so sweet and crunchy they could make a mortal cry tears of joy. Plump, red tomatoes bursting with juice. Creamy potatoes with earthy aroma. Onions with golden skins. Cucumbers that gleamed with morning dew.
Then the fruits—oh, the fruits. Towering apple trees heavy with ruby-red treasures. Orange groves glowing like miniature suns. Vines of grapes in shades of deep violet and emerald green. Strawberries as big as my palm, sweet enough to make bees jealous. Mangoes with skin like gold, flesh so soft it almost melted at the touch. Even rare starfruit and pomegranates, their colors dazzling in the light.
But a farm without animals was incomplete. I created a herd of twenty divine cows, their coats white as clouds and eyes calm as moonlight. Ten mountain goats with sturdy frames, able to climb anywhere in my domain. A flock of thirty plump chickens, feathers smooth and eyes alert, ready to provide golden-yolked eggs. Five roosters to keep them in line. Fifteen sheep with the softest wool imaginable. Fourteen sturdy pigs, each built like a walking feast.
And finally, a gift from me to myself: seven divine honeybee colonies, their hives dripping with golden nectar, each bee shimmering faintly with magic.
With a surge of divine light, my farm bloomed into existence. The smell of fresh soil mixed with the sweet perfume of fruit blossoms and the warm scent of hay. Birds chirped in the distance, and somewhere, a cow let out a lazy, contented "moo."
The result was perfect. The cost… not so much. Fifty Points vanished instantly, my divine rank slipping back to that of a lesser god. I now had only 45 Points left.
I sighed and muttered, "Congratulations, me. I might be the first god in history to nearly bankrupt myself building a buffet."
One Month Later
Whew… finally! Thanks to Leon and his sister, Leah, faithfully reciting their prayers every single day, I've managed to climb back up and regain my status as a minor god. Congratulations to me, right? I feel like I should throw myself a party—though, knowing me, it would just be an excuse to cook again.
Leah's still new to all this. She only provides me with 1 Point of divine power a day since she's still ranked low and is still learning how to properly channel her faith. Leon, on the other hand, is almost at level 10. His devotion pays off—literally. With his progress, he's giving me 5 Points daily, plus he prays five times a day. Leah also prays regularly, so between the two of them, I have a steady trickle of divine power flowing in.
With this foundation, my plan now is simple: create skills and a Class for Leon first, then later for Leah when she's ready. If I nurture them right, their growth will be my growth.
Ah, right—let me explain something about time in this world. A year here has 12 months, but they don't share the same names as in my old world. Each month has exactly 28 days, divided neatly into four weeks, and each week has seven days—thankfully, some things don't change.
But here's the twist: each month is named after one of the top 12 strongest gods in the world, ranked from the most powerful down. It's not just a calendar—it's a constant reminder of divine hierarchy.
The months go like this:
Qatab – the strongest god in existence, revered and feared alike.
Airon – master of storms and winds.
Clayea – goddess of earth and fertility.
Flawre – god of beauty and arts.
Drago – dragon god of fire and battle.
Ashta – goddess of life and healing.
Hellios – god of the sun and judgment.
Agatha – goddess of wisdom and prophecy.
Indio – god of shadows and mystery.
Dante – god of war and conquest.
Yale – god of the seas and tides.
Uri – the youngest of the twelve, god of speed and travel.
And the current year? It's Exisyst 3790. Yes, you heard that right—it's been nearly three thousand years since this calendar system was first established… by the gods themselves, no less. A grand tradition, or just divine ego? Hard to say.