Back in the Dire Sovereign Beast's village.

Darian knelt so low his forehead nearly sank into the earth itself.

Kael, still in his towering dragon form, exhaled once—smoke swirling from his nostrils as he stared down at the man worshipping him like a miracle descended from the heavens.

Then—

FWOOOM—

Black shadows curled around his scales.

His body shrank.

Bones rearranged.

Wings dissolved like molten black.

In seconds, the monstrous dragon turned into the tall, black-clad man with sharp golden eyes and a lazy sort of grace.

Kael dusted his sleeves, as if the transformation itself had been mildly inconvenient.

Then he looked down at Darian.

Who was still kneeling.

Head pressed to the dirt.

Not moving so much as a finger.

"...First of all," Kael said, voice dry, "my name is Kael. Not 'Lord of Night Sun.' Not 'Radiant Sovereign.' Definitely not 'my god.' Just Kael."

He folded his arms.

"Second—why exactly am I your god?"

Darian's shoulders trembled.

Not with fear.

With emotion, like someone finally reaching a destination after wandering for years.

"My God—Lord Kael, forgive me for speaking so boldly…"

He lifted his head slightly, eyes shining with reverence so intense it bordered on feverish.

"I have waited for you. Searched for you. Prayed for the day I would stand before the one whose flame devoured the darkness that bound me."

Selene winced at the level of devotion radiating off the man.

Evethra, however, didn't wince.

She sharpened.

Her wings twitched—the subtle, dangerous twitch of territorial instinct.

Her eyes narrowed because she saw not a human-angel hybrid but a man who might very well be here to snatch her position as Kael's number one believer away from her.

She knew she had to stop this man from coming along, so she stepped forward, her voice was almost calm, but only barely.

"And what," she said sweetly, "makes you believe Kael is the god you were waiting for?"

She wanted to show that his belief was shallow.

As if knowing what was going on in her head, Kael blinked.

Selene raised her head from her attempt to read the man's future, while Lyratheia quietly stepped to the side, watching with interest.

Darian finally lifted his eyes—

And they locked onto Evethra.

He studied her calmly. Carefully.

Then he glanced at Kael.

He saw the way Kael's eyes softened whenever they drifted to Evethra.

Then he looked back at the vampire, whose devotion was practically radiating from her pores.

A slow, reverent smile formed on his lips.

"You must be…" he whispered, "…the wife of my god."

Evethra's wings froze.

Then curled adorably.

Her pale cheeks were tinted pink.

Selene went still, eyebrow rising sharply.

Kael snorted. Actually snorted.

He covered his mouth to hide the grin threatening to break free.

'This guy's sly,' he muttered to himself.

Darian, on the other hand, continued reverently, "As for misunderstanding… such a thing is impossible. If one sees a ghost, they know it is a ghost. If one sees a god…"

His voice trembled.

"…They know it is a god."

He placed his hands on the ground.

"You came to save me. Regardless of the reason. Regardless of intention. No one else did. And that alone is enough."

Lyratheia, curious about something, finally stepped forward, arms crossed.

"So you worship him because he's a dragon? What if another dragon shows up? Will you kneel to them, too?"

Kael nearly smirked—because he knew the answer would say far more about Darian than any window.

Darian shook his head at once.

"No. It is not his race I follow. It is him."

He pressed his hand to the dirt again.

"The being I saw in this clearing—the brilliance that tore through despair—it was not the power of a race. It was the power of a being. A sovereign. A force of nature."

His forehead touched the ground again.

"My devotion lies with Lord Kael. Only Lord Kael. Not dragons. Not demons. Not gods whose names were written for me. Only him."

A soft breeze moved through the clearing as everyone kept their eyes locked on the man.

It was then that Selene exhaled, finally stepping closer.

Her eyes, golden and endless, shimmered faintly—the look she had when she glimpsed a thread of fate she wasn't allowed to reveal.

"Kael," she said quietly, "let him join us."

Kael turned to her, a brow raised.

Selene didn't blink.

Her voice remained gentle.

"…It'll lead to good things."

She did not—could not—say more.

Because speaking of the future could break it.

Kael understood.

He looked down at Darian.

At the kneeling man who had proclaimed him god, whose devotion was almost ridiculous, whose skill was potentially world-shattering, who might—might—be exactly the kind of chaos his life thrived on.

Kael clicked his tongue once.

"Fine."

He stretched his hand lazily.

"You can follow us. But don't bow like that again—it's embarrassing."

Darian inhaled sharply.

Not offended.

Not hurt.

But honored.

"As you command… Lord Kael."

Evethra beamed triumphantly—because 'wife of my god' was still echoing in her ears.

She had completely forgotten that she was trying to stop the man from joining them.

Rather, she was smiling at the guy now, and she even called him smart.

Selene gave a small sigh, part amused, part intrigued.

Lyratheia, who was also a part of this group now, crossed her arms with a half-smile.

Kael merely shoved his hands in his pockets, golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

This man…

This fanatic…

This E-rank human-angel hybrid with a world-shaking skill…

Was officially one of them now.

..................

A while later.

The clearing was now quiet again.

Darian remained standing beside Kael now—not kneeling, not trembling—simply calm, composed, and strangely radiant with newly anchored purpose.

But there was something else to deal with.

Around a hundred humans stood clustered at the opposite end of the clearing, their clothes torn, their faces pale, and their bodies stiff with terror.

Mothers hugged children. Men stood protectively, clutching broken tools and sticks as if they were weapons.

They'd watched everything—the dragon, the dire beast's destruction, the tiny dog, the monstrous revelation, the kneeling fanatic—although not clearly.

Now they stared at Kael like he might swallow them in one bite.

Kael let out a breath and rolled his shoulders.

"Well," he said lightly, "that just leaves… them."

Selene, Evethra, and Lyratheia turned to the group of humans. Fear pulsed in the air, thick as fog.

Kael's golden eyes slid toward Darian.

"You were here the longest," he said. "You know these people better than we do. What do you think? Should I take them to my village? Or… leave them to sort themselves out?"

Darian didn't answer immediately.

Silence stretched.

The humans looked hopeful—just for a moment—until Darian finally inhaled and spoke.

"I would advise against it."

His voice was steady. Calm. Almost emotionless.

Whispers bubbled among the humans, sharp and angry.

Kael raised a brow. "And why's that?"

Darian folded his arms behind his back like a priest addressing a congregation.

"Because human nature shifts faster than the wind. Kindness today becomes entitlement tomorrow. Gratitude becomes expectation. And expectation…" He exhaled. "…becomes rot."

The humans glared daggers at him now.

Darian didn't flinch because he wasn't a human who was helping other humans now.

Now, he was deciding for his god.

He had to tell the truth.

"I have lived among them for years. I have watched what they become when they find safety."

His eyes turned colder, remembering something Kael could only guess at.

"They pollute whatever sanctuary they enter. They poison harmony with ambition. Before long, they will demand more… and more… and more."

Kael watched him.

Selene glanced sideways, curious.

Evethra smirked faintly—because the human resentment was amusing.

Lyratheia crossed her arms, expression unreadable because although she wasn't entirely against the guy, she wasn't with him either.

Darian finished with a bow of his head.

"You are merciful, Lord Kael. But mercy must be given wisely. Show compassion… but do not house them in a sanctuary built in your name."

He stepped aside, letting Kael choose what to do himself.

Kael stared at the humans.

Their anger had faded.

Now they only looked frightened. Confused. Lost.

He clicked his tongue, hands sliding into his pockets.

"Alright then," he said. "I won't bring you to my village."

Gasps. Trembling. A few sobs.

But before panic could bloom—

Kael raised a finger.

A flame sparked at its tip.

"But I'm also not leaving you to die."

Pressure rolled outward—soft, warm, but absolute.

The air rippled. Space bent.

The world tilted.

"Consider this my kindness," Kael said as magic roared beneath his feet.

Light swallowed the clearing.

The wind howled in every direction.

And in a single pulse of power—

Kael teleported every last human to Veldera City.

When the light faded, only Kael and his group remained in the silent, ruined village.

Kael dusted his hands.

"There. Problem solved."

Selene smiled softly.

Evethra looked proud.

Lyratheia nodded once.

Darian bowed his head in reverence.

Kael stretched lazily.

"Alright," he said, golden eyes gleaming.

"Let's go back to our place now."

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