Three days later, Mineris sat quietly atop a ridge overlooking the Gorian tribe's rugged encampment nestled beneath the hills. His sharp eyes traced their movements: weary hunters, cautious children, anxious elders. The tribe was strong, but starving; their powerful frames were gaunt from hunger, their spirits weighed down by scarcity.
He had spent these days observing and planning with care. To reveal himself as a god outright, demanding submission, felt reckless and naïve. Divine intervention was costly. Summoning a mountain from the earth or reshaping the landscape would sap his precious divine energy—something he could ill afford in his nascent state. Even his earth-manipulation talent alone would require centuries to craft such grand miracles without divine investment.
A small smirk flickered across his face as he caught himself drifting once again to thoughts of raising mountains. "Why am I so fixated on that?" he muttered under his breath.
He knew a subtler approach was necessary.
To make contact with the Gorians, he only needed to whisper into their minds—a delicate invocation requiring just a sliver of his divinity, one or two divine energy points. But would that be enough? Would mere words convince these starving warriors to worship him? Likely not.
The Gorians were pragmatic. They had likely devoured nearly every beast in the surrounding forest, pushing many creatures to flee, driven by insatiable hunger. Their survival depended on tangible proof—something real to ease their desperation. Faith wouldn't flourish on empty stomachs.
So, for three days, Mineris devised a plan to demonstrate his power through provision instead of spectacle.
He tracked a herd of wild boars deep within the dense forest and used his earth-control talent to subtly maneuver small stones, nudging the frightened animals toward the Gorians' cave settlement. This required no divine energy—just precise control and patient practice with his talent he had honed over these days.
Now flying above the settlement, Mineris scanned the crowd below—about a hundred souls. Most were women, children, and elders; only about twenty were strong males who could be called hunters of the tribe.
After searching for a while, his eyes settled on a young girl of around seventeen, praying before a drawing of a face etched into a rock. This caught his attention. If he appeared before her, she would surely believe a god had come for her prayer, making it easier to convince her as she was still young and impressionable.
Mineris hovered above the girl, unseen and unfelt, until he bent down and whispered softly into her ear. His voice was gentle, yet unmistakably divine.
"I am a new God. Hear me—I choose your people."
The girl's eyes widened; her heart pounded with awe and disbelief. She staggered back, breath catching, then without hesitation, ran to the center of the tribe's encampment, shouting at the top of her lungs.
"There is a god! A new God has spoken to me! He says he has chosen us!"
The Gorians gathered, murmurs rising like restless wind. They had worshipped deities for centuries, believing in higher gods watching from the sky, but those prayers had brought no relief—only hunger, illness, drought, and disaster. Many had prayed before, yet none answered. The elders exchanged skeptical glances.
"It's just a child's fancy," one muttered.
Another scoffed, "Nothing but a hungry girl's dream."
Yet the girl stood firm, unwavering. She turned to her father, the clan chief, her voice steady but pleading.
"Father, you must believe me. The god is real. He speaks—and he will help us."
The chief, a broad-shouldered giant marked by stone-like tears beneath his eyes, stared at his daughter, weighing her words against years of doubt.
"If this god is real," he said slowly, "then he must show us proof. He must bring food and ease our hunger." Though distrust lingered in his eyes, a flicker of hope surfaced—what if the god had truly chosen them? What if this god was real?
He dismissed these thoughts quickly.
At that moment, from the ridge above, a small rock, the size of a palm and shaped like an egg, shot forward, soaring through the air toward the dense forest beyond.
The girl's eyes lit up. "Follow the rock! It will lead us to food! God said so!" she shouted, already sprinting after it.
"After her!" the chief barked, rallying his best hunters. "We go together. We cannot lose her." His eyes narrowed with worry—this girl, so headstrong and reckless, disrespected his authority, yes, but more than that, his fear for her safety burned fierce.
The hunters surged forward, the chief close behind, hearts pounding with anxiety.
Deep within the forest, the rock slowed and hovered, then split effortlessly into twenty smaller stones, each darting in different directions.
The stones moved with deadly precision, striking each boar with lethal force. One by one, the animals fell, silenced before they could alarm the others.
Moments later, the hunters found themselves surrounded by a herd of wild boars—twenty dead, blood running from their heads, stones piercing through faster than the eye could follow.
The hunters stared in stunned silence, eyes wide as they took in the grisly scene before them. The boars, once wild and elusive, now lay still and lifeless, their bodies arranged almost reverently in the clearing. The chief stepped forward, his face a mixture of disbelief and cautious hope, gaze shifting between the fallen beasts and the girl who had led them here.
"This... this is no ordinary hunt," the chief murmured, voice heavy with awe. "If the god truly sent this, then perhaps our prayers are answered."
The girl, breathless but radiant with conviction, knelt beside the nearest boar, touching its coarse fur gently. "He promised to provide," she said softly. "We must honor him with our faith."
Among the hunters, murmurs of uncertain hope spread quickly. Hunger had driven them to desperation, but now, with tangible proof of divine intervention, a new flame of belief kindled in their hearts.
"There is no time to linger," the chief commanded. "Take the boars and leave the forest quickly."
Everyone obeyed. The hunters lifted the prey given by their new God and began running toward home.
The girl, recalling dangers lurking in the forest, hurried to catch up with the hunters. The chief brought up the rear, vigilantly watching for threats.
After some time, slowed by the weight of their burden, they returned safely to the settlement, displaying their bounty and recounting how it was obtained.
Awe filled the hearts of all, and shouts erupted: "God has finally appeared!" "We are saved!"
The chief raised his voice, steady and commanding. "Tonight, we feast and pray to the god who has chosen us. But we must remain vigilant. This gift is precious, and we must not squander it."
As the tribe busied themselves preparing the meat, Mineris watched silently from his vantage point above the trees. One question gnawed at him—why were they so fearful of the forest? Even now, with food enough for days, the answer eluded him. He would find it in time. For now, his priority was to gather his first faith.
As dusk settled over the encampment, the Gorian tribe gathered around roaring fires. The scent of roasted meat filled the air—rich, heavy, almost overwhelming after weeks of starvation. Laughter returned in broken bursts, unfamiliar yet desperately welcomed. Children clung to their mothers while gnawing on meat, elders ate in slow, reverent silence, and hunters devoured their portions with fierce gratitude.
At the center stood the girl. Her eyes searched the darkening sky, waiting.
Above them, unseen, Mineris hovered in silence.
He watched carefully.
This moment—this fragile shift from doubt to belief—was more valuable than any mountain he could raise.
A faint, translucent panel flickered before him.
═════════════════════
GOD CIVILIZATION SYSTEM
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Believers: 0 → 57
Faith Energy: +23
Divine Energy: 100
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A slow breath escaped him.
"So it worked…"
But his gaze sharpened.
Fifteen believers out of a hundred.
Not enough.
He needed something deeper.
Something that would anchor their faith.
Below, the chief stepped forward, raising a charred piece of meat high into the firelight.
"We give thanks to the god who has chosen us!" he declared. "If you are real—if you truly watch over us—show yourself again!"
The tribe fell silent.
All eyes turned upward.
The girl stepped forward, her voice softer but unwavering.
"He is here... I can feel him."
Mineris narrowed his eyes.
A direct manifestation would be too costly.
But he needed to show himself now. Even if not directly, he could do something.
Yes.
That would be enough.
They wanted to test if this god was still there, still watching.
He had to provide that.
He extended his will, carefully controlling his power. Only a small portion of divine energy was used.
The flames in the central fire trembled.
Then shifted.
The fire bent unnaturally, stretching upward into a shape—tall, imposing.
A figure.
A silhouette formed within the flames, indistinct yet unmistakably humanoid, holding what looked like a long spear.
Gasps rippled through the tribe.
The girl fell to her knees instantly.
"It's him…"
The chief's breath caught, his grip tightening.
No words were spoken.
Everyone fell to their knees, praying to the humanoid shape in the flames.
The fire pulsed once—then collapsed back into normal flames.
The system flickered again.
═════════════════════
Believers: 57 → 100
Faith Energy: 23 → 101
Divine Energy: 100 → 86
New Title Unlocked: "Watcher of the Gorians"
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Mineris allowed himself a faint smile.