Her long green hair, wet and clinging to her cheeks, smooth shoulders, and back, exuded an otherworldly and delicate beauty, reminiscent of a nature spirit.
However, Karl's gaze sharpened slightly.
After a long absence, this Nymph appeared noticeably weaker to him. The pure, transparent aura that once radiated from her now seemed dim and tainted. Her body was vaguely shrouded in strands of an extremely faint, instinctively repulsive grey-black colour — this was Dagon's influence. Evidently, maintaining the integrity of the seal and resisting the intrusion had cost her a significant portion of her strength, and she herself had begun to slowly wither.
The Nymph fully emerged to the surface; her face first showed anticipation, but now it was mixed with anxiety and exhaustion.
As she stepped onto the shallows by the shore, her gaze naturally fell upon Karl, who had called out to her. Their eyes met, and in an instant, her expression vanished.
Her pupils suddenly contracted, her breathing became impossibly laboured, and her chest rose and fell sharply. Her graceful body began to tremble uncontrollably.
This was not fear, but an irresistible reverence and shock stemming from the very level of life and the instincts of her soul.
What did she see? In her perception, Karl stood by the water. He was no longer that mortal favoured by the gods, that messenger of the deities she had met last time. At this moment, Karl was enveloped in a golden light — invisible to the naked eye of mortals, but blinding to a nature spirit like her.
The light was not dazzling, but incredibly pure and profound, as if a miniature sun had enveloped his body. Within this light flowed boundless vitality, sanctity, and majesty transcending the mundane. This overwhelming sense of pressure on a fundamental level caused her to lose her composure far more than any display of power.
"Ka... Karl... Your Majesty..." The Nymph's voice was dry and trembling; she could barely utter a single sentence. Reverence and disbelief were written across her face; her legs buckled beneath her, and she was about to kneel before everyone.
Seeing this, Karl frowned slightly. He hadn't released any mental pressure, had he? Why was the Nymph's reaction so intense?
Despite his doubts, he did not slow his pace. Just as the Nymph's knees were about to touch the damp ground, Karl raised his hand slightly. A gentle biokinetic field instantly supported the Nymph's body, preventing her from kneeling. Then, with care, he helped her rise so she could stand once more.
The Nymph straightened, but still kept her head slightly bowed, her gaze respectfully lowered, no longer daring to meet Karl's eyes. Her body still trembled slightly — the aftermath of the shock that had yet to settle in her soul and her very being.
Her gaze cautiously swept over the gathered crowd. Among these mortals with their varied auras, only two middle-aged mages drew her attention. Yet compared to His Majesty before her, they were no more than fireflies next to the sun.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm the turbulent emotions within, and spoke in a trembling but reverent tone: "Your Majesty... it is a great honour to see you again."
"Miali... I am so grateful that you kept your promise and extended your hand in aid." Her words and demeanour were respectful to the point of humility.
Karl's eyes flickered, and he understood: the Nymph had come into contact with the nature goddess Lefiya. Then, she had also sensed Freya's presence upon him. Now, not only had he received Freya's blessing, but his soul had also been elevated through his soul source, and divine power had gathered within his body... All these changes combined.
To a Nymph — a nature spirit sensitive to "divinity" — this would appear as a blazing torch in the night. Perhaps that was why she had changed her address and reacted so strongly.
The Nymph's sudden reverence and address of "Your Majesty" caused a great stir among those gathered, especially Margarita, Geralt, and the others.
Margarita crossed her arms, looking relaxed and ready to enjoy the show. At this moment, her eyes widened, her gaze darting between the Nymph, whose behaviour had abruptly changed, and Karl, who remained calm, barely concealing her surprise. She involuntarily took a half-step forward and asked softly: "You call him... 'Your Majesty'? Is he... a 'god'?"
Her gaze shifted to Karl, scrutinising him from head to toe, as if seeing him for the first time.
At this moment, all eyes were fixed on Karl. A nearly frozen silence hung in the air.
Karl met the gazes of everyone present, maintaining an impassive expression. In response to Margarita's questions and the complex, probing stares of the crowd, he offered no resistance.
Miali unconsciously glanced at Karl, noticing his expression. When she saw that Karl's face remained calm, showing neither displeasure at the offence nor any intention to stop her from speaking — a sign of silent approval — she grew a little more composed and slowly straightened, though her legs were still somewhat weak.
First, she surveyed the crowd around her. Their expressions ranged from surprise and doubt to questioning, but all were undoubtedly waiting for her answer. Finally, her gaze returned to Karl, though she still could not meet his eyes.
She bowed respectfully and slightly, her posture humble yet confident in having witnessed something sacred.
"Of course. His Majesty Karl is a god — this is an indisputable fact," Miali said.
"I feel that His Majesty is like the sun, radiating light and warmth."
"He is like the Mother Goddess, born of nature and embodying it — yet the nature of his power and its form of manifestation are different."
Margarita's eyes narrowed, and the suspicion in her not only did not fade but grew stronger. Her gaze darted between the calm-looking Karl and the almost pious Nymph. The thought that "the two of them are collaborating to create a story and stage a play" grew increasingly firm in her mind.
As the Dean of Aretuza, she was a sorceress who had risen to the top step by step through intellect, talent, and hard work. She believed in knowledge, logic, and the power of what could be observed and verified. The word "deity" had come to her during her long academic career. It appeared more often in myths, legends, religious texts, and the exaggerated tales of bards — vague and symbolic. Quite possibly, it was even the result of ignorant commoners deifying powerful monsters.
Suddenly, a living, breathing person was being called a "god"? She found it difficult to accept.
"Lady Nymph, this 'Mother Goddess' you mentioned... who exactly are you referring to?"
Margarita's voice returned to its usual languid tone, but the sharpness beneath it had grown even keener.
Miali turned to face Margarita, and looking at someone other than Karl, her calm and otherworldly aura returned.