The Divine Realm shimmered softly as Razeon observed the elven village from above. His golden eyes—eyes of a true primordial god—reflected every movement below. Aevis rested on the hilltop in his dragon form, wings folded, glowing silver scales gleaming beneath the moonlight as he watched over the villagers through the night.
Below him, Lyria—now transformed into a divine priestess—stood at the center of the village. Only days ago she had been a small, frightened girl. Now, after receiving Razeon's blessing, she appeared eighteen, tall and graceful, her body radiating divine energy. Her eyes glowed with cerulean-gold light—the Eyes of Revelation, a trait only chosen priestesses could possess.
Her father, the village chief—an elder elf with gentle emerald eyes—approached her carefully. Though over 200 years old, he carried himself with the calm authority of a leader.
"Lyria," he spoke softly, "now that you are… the Priestess of a true god… I must ask."
He hesitated.
"Are there other gods? What became of them? Should we not know?"
Lyria's expression remained calm. "Father… Lord Razeon will tell us what we must know. A god's wisdom surpasses ours. We should not question unnecessarily."
Those words drifted upward into the heavens.
In the Divine Realm, Razeon's lips curled slightly.
"So she believes in me that deeply…" he murmured.
He raised a hand, and divine radiance descended through the sky, surrounding Lyria. She shivered as his voice echoed directly into her soul.
"Since you ask with sincerity, I shall answer."
The entire village froze, dropping to their knees.
Lyria bowed deeply. "My Lord…"
Razeon's voice resonated gently through her.
"The other gods were not separate beings. They were fragments—avatars created by the First God using his own essence. When he fell defeating the Demon God, the avatars dissolved with him."
A wave of awe and fear spread across the villagers.
Lyria's father whispered, "Then… you are the only god left…"
"I am the successor. The last direct inheritor of the Primordial Throne.
And now, I give you new guidance."
Everyone held their breath.
"Leave this land. Move south. When you see a towering mountain with a waterfall and dense magical energy, settle there. That place will be your sanctuary."
Lyria repeated his words with the Voice of the God, her divine trait amplifying Razeon's will so clearly that even infants heard the message.
Just then, a figure stumbled into the village.
"L—Lyria!"
It was her older brother—Aeren.
Tall, sharp-featured, with long silver hair tied back and one arm wrapped in cloth, he looked worn and exhausted. He had left before the previous attack, searching for help. Tears filled his eyes as he saw his little sister—now grown into a radiant priestess.
"Lyria… what happened to you…?"
She rushed to him and embraced him. "Brother… you're hurt."
He shook his head. "It is nothing. I found no help… all nearby villages were destroyed…"
His voice broke.But then Lyria placed her glowing hand on his injured arm. Divine symbols appeared around her palm.
"By Lord Razeon's blessing… heal."
Light surged.
Aeren gasped as his arm straightened—muscles, nerves, and bones restoring instantly.
"L-Lyria… your power…"
She smiled faintly. "It's not mine. It is His."
In the Divine Realm, Razeon nodded in satisfaction.
Her devotion pleased him.
Then, he spoke again through her.
"Aeren of the Elves, step forward."
Aeren knelt immediately.
"You possess three traits fit for leadership."
— Warrior's Resolve
— Divine Sensitivity
— Unshakable Will
A calm silence fell.
"I appoint you the First Commander of My Divine Order."
Gasps spread through the village.
Lyria looked at her brother with pride as radiant markings appeared on Aeren's chest.
"Priestess Lyria," Razeon continued,
"Name this order. Its future shall determine the fate of your race."
Lyria closed her eyes. Words formed gently in her heart, inspired by the god she served.
"Lord… then I name it…"
She opened her eyes, glowing brightly.
"The Order of the Dawnsworn."
Razeon approved. "A fitting name."
Aeren bowed deeply. "I, Aeren Dawnsworn, shall devote my life to Your will."
With the divine order formed, the village prepared to move south. Their hearts overflowed with new purpose.The Southward Journey Begins
The villagers gathered their belongings, children, food, and tools. They walked under Aevis's watchful protection—his massive dragon form soaring silently above them like a guardian star.
After a full day of travel, they finally saw it:
A colossal mountain piercing the sky…
A waterfall glowing with natural mana…
And a valley overflowing with pure magical energy.
The elves gasped.
"It's… paradise."
"We were truly guided by a god…"
They immediately divided into groups:
Group One: Build temporary houses and begin temple preparations
Group Two: Hunt beasts for food
Group Three: Gather materials and explore the surroundings
Group Four (The Dawnsworn Order): Guard Lyria and protect the workers
Hours into exploring, Group Three returned breathless.
"Priestess! We found… a cave—full of gold, iron, rubies, sapphires—so many materials!"
The villagers erupted in excitement.
Lyria closed her eyes, praying to Razeon. He heard her instantly.
"Lyria. I gift you the blueprint for My First Divine Temple."
A radiant scroll appeared in her hands.
The moment she unrolled it, everyone fell silent.
A grand structure, towering like a palace, carved with celestial patterns…
A stairway reaching the heavens…
A hall large enough for rituals…
Walls engraved with divine runes…
Roof shining like dawn itself…
Majestic, elegant, sacred.
Tears filled the elves' eyes. "We will build it, Priestess!"As night fell, Aevis curled atop the highest hill, his silver scales glowing under the moon. The Dawnsworn Order stood guard. Lyria stood before the blueprint, feeling Razeon's presence gently surround her.
Under the star-filled sky, their new home—the first divine settlement of the Primordial God—began.