Chapter 421 - 405: Stealing Divine Favor

Chapter 421: Chapter 405: Stealing Divine Favor

Inside the chamber for divine worship.

Only Galvis’s heavy, suppressed gasps remained in the deathly silence.

His mind raced, piecing together the horrifying fragments.

The statue in the center of the Divine Hall, the one with Tula’s face.

The supreme position it occupied—one that should have belonged to the Elf Main God.

Tula’s intimate way of addressing the ancient name "Aloshi," and the warmth that had unwittingly filled his eyes—a tenderness far beyond what a worshiper should feel for a deity.

And then, his reaction to the question, "Corellon Larethian?"...

He hadn’t denied it.

This chain of evidence, like cold, interlocking links, pointed to a conclusion that made Galvis’s very soul tremble.

The Elf before him, the one going by the name Tula Morningstar, was far more than just Corellon’s Divine Favored One...

Looking at Tula’s face, which still wore an expression of compassion and gentleness yet now seemed unfathomably deep, Galvis took a sharp breath, summoning all his composure to force himself to remain calm.

A bolder, more insane thought surfaced, uncontrolled.

Or perhaps...

’Is this "Tula" before me an incarnation of Corellon?’

’Gods above...’

Galvis lamented inwardly.

Although he was a Divine Favored One and had felt Lady Shuni’s warm, intoxicating gaze in hazy dreams, to come face-to-face with a God in reality—especially one who might be the supreme Main God of the Elf Race...

The unprecedented situation left him completely flustered, as if the very air around him had solidified, becoming too heavy to breathe.

However, in the midst of this mental turmoil, the keen intuition Galvis had honed through years of travel and observation suddenly screamed a warning.

’No... Something’s not right.’

He suppressed the rising panic, his gaze locked on Tula.

At that moment, Tula had turned his head slightly to look at the statue of Aloshi in the shadows, his eyes a complex tapestry of affection and profound regret.

It was not the look of a mere worshiper or an incarnation; the emotions it held were far too personal, too heavy.

Galvis’s brow furrowed tightly.

Although all the evidence pointed to Tula being Corellon, his Perception told him with certainty that Tula was missing something crucial.

That unique quality that belonged only to Gods, one that made mortals instinctively revere and submit...

The aura of a Divine Attribute.

When he’d had an audience with Shuni in his dreams, he could clearly feel her power, even through the veil of the dreamscape—a warmth and vastness, a great Power whose essence was far beyond the Extraordinary.

But with the Tula before him, he couldn’t sense that fundamental difference in their station.

The Elf’s aura was certainly powerful and profound, carrying the weight of ages and the gleam of magic, but it still remained within the bounds of a mortal.

He was, however, possibly the most powerful "mortal" Galvis had ever seen.

This contradiction was like a splash of ice water, instantly snapping him out of his initial shock.

"No... You’re not Corellon!"

Galvis blurted out. His voice was hoarse with tension, but his eyes shone with unprecedented conviction.

Tula didn’t grow angry at the accusation. He didn’t even refute it, merely nodding lightly, the perfect smile on his face unwavering.

"A keen observation, Mister Galvis."

His tone was placid, as if he were discussing a matter that didn’t concern him.

"Correct. In the full sense of possessing a ’Divine Attribute,’ I am indeed not Corellon himself at this moment. But I do... carry the will and favor of the Main God Corellon as I walk this land."

At this, Tula’s tone shifted. The look of divine pity returned to his face, but a strange undercurrent now churned in the depths of his eyes.

"I’m sure you have seen it, Mister Galvis. You’ve seen the state to which our people have fallen. The tides of Magic Power are returning and all things are reviving, yet for the Elf Race... our noble bloodline thins by the day. Our Power wanes, like a candle about to be extinguished."

"If no one steps forward to turn the tide, the only fate that awaits us is to be swallowed by the river of time and vanish completely."

He spread his arms, his flawless face alight with an almost devout fanaticism, and his voice rose.

"But in an endless, bewildering dream, I received a revelation! A revelation from Corellon himself!"

"If... if I can just gather enough ’Divine Favor’—by cleverly ’guiding’ and ’concentrating’ the boons other Deities grant their chosen ones into this body—I will be able to bear more of Corellon’s great Power! I could even... become His perfect vessel and proxy in this world! When that happens..."

Tula left the sentence unfinished, but his unspoken ambition was plain to see.

Galvis was shaken to the core, a chill shooting from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

’A madman!’

’An absolute madman!’

’To think that a mortal would dare to steal from the Gods, to cross that insurmountable station and push himself onto a Divine Throne!’

Tula paid no mind to the mix of shock and incredulity in Galvis’s eyes. He tilted his head slightly as if muttering to himself, his voice low and tinged with relish.

"Miss Avril... I have already finished ’accepting’ the ’favor’ she carried from Rose."

"I must say, though her exterior was like perpetual Frost, her heart was... exceptionally ’fiery.’ To think she would willingly offer up her Divine Favor for her mentor—a ’cripple’ who’s been imprisoned in the dungeons for decades. Such... a moving bond between student and teacher."

He paused, his gaze suddenly piercing Galvis like a poisoned needle.

"Now, only one last portion of Divine Favor is needed..."

Tula slowly turned to Galvis, his smile still gentle but carrying an unmistakable threat.

"So, what is your choice, Mister Galvis?"

"From what I know, you are a man who values loyalty and sentiment. Your mentor, Visna... ah, such a knowledgeable and respectable Minstrel. He is, at this very moment, under my ’care.’"

"If you refuse this ’honor,’ I’m afraid I can’t guarantee the great artist’s personal safety. After all, as you know, to achieve a more noble goal, certain... necessary sacrifices must be made."

Just at this critical moment, a series of hurried, frantic footsteps suddenly echoed from the previously silent corridor outside.

An Elf Warrior’s slightly panicked shout shattered the tense standoff in the room.

"Lord Tula! Urgent military report! Those Zor Elves... they’ve launched a surprise attack on the outskirts of the Eternal Song Forest through an unknown tunnel!"

The sudden news was like a stone tossed into still water, yet it failed to create the slightest ripple on Tula’s expression.

Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his eyes as he spoke nonchalantly.

"Proceed according to the established plan. Send men to engage the enemy and hold the main passages. That will suffice."

"Yes, sir!"

The Elf Warrior outside was clearly filled with reverence and trust for Tula. He immediately accepted the order, and as the sound of his hurried footsteps faded, the corridor fell silent once more.

Inside the room, however, the crisis escalated dramatically.

Tula began to move, slowly closing the distance to Galvis.

To the Minstrel, his elegant steps were like the tolling of the Death God’s bell.

Galvis instinctively tried to back away, to flee, only to realize in horror that his body was completely immobilized, as if bound by invisible shackles. He couldn’t even move a finger.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could just glimpse the fingertips of the hand Tula had hanging at his side. They were wreathed in an extremely faint Magic Radiance that distorted the light around them.

"Is that [Paralyzing Gaze]?"

Galvis cried out in shock, his voice twisted and strained by the paralysis.

"You... you can use Magic so proficiently? How is that..."

"Let’s not concern ourselves with such trivial details now, Mister Galvis," Tula interrupted gently, coming to a stop before the Minstrel.

His eyes, like the deepest of gemstones, now reflected Galvis’s terrified face.

"Now, it is time to make your ’choice.’"

"Will you willingly offer up Lady Shuni’s grace for the sake of your mentor? Or..."

Seeing Galvis clench his jaw, veins throbbing at his temples as he desperately tried to summon what little Power he had to fight the invisible bonds, Tula slowly shook his head and let out a sigh of apparent regret.

"It seems... you have chosen the less ’obedient’ path. What a shame."

"An unwilling offering means much of the ’favor’ will be lost in the transfer, greatly diminishing its effect... but at this point, I suppose it will have to be enough."

With that, Tula said no more.

He slowly raised the hand wreathed in Magic Radiance. His fingers spread slightly—a gesture that was at once a caress and a declaration of ownership—as he gently, irresistibly, placed his palm on the crown of Galvis’s head.

There was no excruciating pain as he had expected, no brilliant flash of light.

Quite the opposite. In that instant, all Galvis felt was a cold touch, a sensation of being intensely siphoned, as if countless invisible needles had plunged deep into his soul.

He could almost "hear" the warm, wonderful bond that connected him to some great being begin to wail under an unbearable strain.

The fundamental Power he relied upon to perceive the world was being forcibly stripped from him, thread by thread, flowing into Tula’s hand, which felt as if it could devour everything.

The room was utterly silent, save for Galvis’s silent, internal screams and the chillingly steady sound of Tula’s breathing.