As Foy had said and shown, Heon were very loving when alone with each other. Even when they roughly played, or dueled, there was no malice behind it, everyone was kin, everyone was cared for. Glor’s were no different, save for their love of bone trinkets. But other than that, they shared the same traits, down to the constant talks of other races, Kolune mostly, but Dargown and Verm were mentioned from time to time.

In smaller numbers, the Heon hadn’t been acting as confident as they had been when first setting off from the main host. Now males were on constant alert, eyes wide and ears flexed tight. They would have noticed any mortal trying to sneak up or track them, given the lands they dwelled within were still barren of wildlife. The hunters of Glor’s people had been very thorough, all that remained was the sounds of insects, something the Heon ignored and didn’t see as food.

None of the many tribes he was tracking were aware of him, nor did it seem Glor was keeping an eye on them. He didn’t feel any presence of the other god, though that could be suppressed.

Still, from what he could tell, Glor wasn’t around. A mistake, or an uncaringness by the hunter god. He had many mouths to feed, and the loss of a few might be seen as a boon to him.

Vengeful arrived, as they had at other tribal offshoots. The souls of departed Kolune mingled with the living, the latter oblivious to them.

That changed however, once the Vengeful were in place and acted. the Devotion gifted to them, put to use. The Dead appeared within the physical realm, their appearances half transparent, and glowing white. Heon screamed out in surprise as they took note of the ghosts that towered over them. Many calls went still a moment later, as claws and teeth were used.

the dead tore into the living, The Heon collectively frozen in place at first, unsure of what was going on. But the sight of blood and entrails woke most from their stupor, males acted, bringing their spears into ready positions.

The Vengeful laughed, the voices echoing indignation and malice. Heon threw their spears, and the weapons flew true, they stuck into some of the dead, the act only making them laugh more. Kolune pulled spears free, and broke them in half effortlessly as they rushed the defenseless Heon.

The males tried to fight, used their claws and teeth. But they were small compared to the dead, and the souls were unbothered by any wound inflicted upon them. It was over in less than a minute; the tribe turned into scattered corpses spilling Devotion into the land.

Malan performed his claim, and all went to him, all the While the Heon, now dead, gazed upon the destruction, the swift turn of events leaving them in a daze.

Looking through other shards of himself, he saw the same pattern take place, every offshoot was butchered, and done swiftly enough, that none of the Heon had gotten the chance to send a prayer to Glor for aid. Though the god would know in time, the dead would tell him before their found a body to reincarnate into.

The Kolune, their purpose fulfilled, ceased their use of Devotion and transitioned back into the Glen.

The Heon glared at them, even attacked. A brawl started, the dead striking and wrestling with each other.

None of them suffered even a scratch, even as they bit and clawed in ways that would have rend flesh. But here, in the Glen of Transitions, the time of violence was done. this was a place of reflection for the dead, a place to find peace and set the beginnings of a new path to take. For most it would be to reincarnate, their limited views, and aspirations, further chaining them to the pull of the Glen’s call. The Kolune however, now joined with Wonder and some of it secrets, had purpose and power behind them, they remained untouched as they fought with the Heon. The latter losing more and more of their anger, and interest in the Kolune.

By the time he moved his awareness elsewhere, Heon souls were beginning to leave as well, heading for Glor’s main host where they would wait their turn to reincarnate.

Malan turned his attention to smaller groups of Vengeful, those tasked with tracking groups of Heon who’d gone off to hunt game for the tribe. He sent a report to Prost, showing the successes to the fatherly god.

‘This change’s everything,’ Prost sent back. ‘The dead are a danger, what if Glor does the same back to us?’

‘He would have to know how.’ Malan sent back, untouched by worry. ‘His dead enlightened in matters the god himself doesn’t know about, and might not want mortals knowing of. Besides, a domain, and the runes I showed you can easily keep the dead away.’

The shades of Wonder were a threat, but once known defenses were rediscovered and put in place, their overall usefulness in matters of attack would begin to drop. They would have to focus on making constructs for them to possess, allowing more effective use of Devotion and grounding themselves into the material realm. But those were matters for later, details he was yet to share with the other newly joined gods. Such knowledge would befuddle them anyways, with little, to none of the concepts sticking to their consciousness.

‘I trust in your secrets, Harbinger of change,’ Prost sent back. ‘May the hunt continue to be plentiful.’

With that endorsement, Malan sent mental commands to the Vengeful following groups of Heon hunters.

In dozens of places, the dead manifested and attacked. A butchery began, the mortals unable to counter divine strength. The lush forest filled with the screams of the confused and dying, all taken by death before they could send word to their god.

Glor would notice though, while his following was large. It wasn’t that large, he would feel the drop in membership, the decline of Devotion. Yet, he would not learn quickly enough to save the meat gatherers, or the fact that none would be coming back with game to feed his hungry people. Quite the problem for the Heon of Glor, since they haven’t developed in real methods of preserving meat. Not in the way of using salts, they preferred it fresh and normally ate it all at once. As such, there wasn’t really any stores of food within the camp.

For the Heon of the past session, it wouldn’t have been much of a problem, given the land around them was filled with eatable plants. Yet the Heon of now ignore them, in their view those things were not food. Same as the Kolune of the past, Heon stomachs had been changed. They now had a difficult time digesting plants.

It was another fix he’d been forced to work on with his own Heon. It wasn’t complete, but those within the crater were slowly becoming better acclimated with the consumption of foliage. With it, fruits and greens were starting to become part of their normal diet, and relieving stress off the local wildlife.

In a few months those wild beasts wouldn’t even have to worry about being hunted, domestications, and improvement of chosen unascend stock, was already allowing the denizens of the crater to stay close to their dwellings. Farming had started up as well, crops already sowed and sprouting.

Compared to Glor’s tribe, those of Wonder were decades, maybe even a century ahead of the Savages, and the distance between them would become worse. Once the basics of stable living were in place, the population of their followers would bloom. And with all those people able to be centralized in one location, trades would come to be. Civilization would be brought forth, and the real acceleration of advancement could begin.

‘All I have to do, is keep everyone fighting with each other.’

The act was as easy as breathing, given the violence between tribes was worsening every day. As gods grew more confident in their abilities, more aware, the greater their distaste for other non-aligned deities became.

By now, the fighting would take place no matter what he did. All his meddling achieved was allowing everyone to know what the other was up to. To always be aware of rival’s locations and strength. Plus, the act of making sure no one side was wiped out by the other.

In truth, he was over doing his role as a Harbinger of woes. Even the most dangerous tribes were still unorganized mobs compared to real armies. But he couldn’t help it, he had to make sure Wonder was given its time to flourish, even when they could have hidden away. It had to be the ideology championed this time, not chaos, and Celestials forbid, order.

For that, the likes of Glor had to go. While the god didn’t champion any of the three, his nature of killing off all not Heon, made him incompatible with Wonder, he was an obstacle to be dealt with, and a means to test the armies of Wonder.

Watching the Vengeful kill the living, allowed him to study their effectiveness. Unlike his Shadows of old, souls endowed with an abundance of knowledge and the ability to perform miracles. The Vengeful were brutes, they knew only enough to manifest themselves, and use the Devotion to perform physical feats. They’d yet to master forming weapons to use, rather than their claws and teeth.

‘These Kolune still have a long way to go.’

Technically the dead Kolune shouldn’t have any difficulties learning. they were freed from the limitations of a body, yet they were still being hampered. A new rule had been added in, and it was slowing the development of the dead. It only allowed them to learn so much at a given time, and seemed to be half of what the living could endure before their minds began to fray.

He couldn’t help but feel that some of the changes, besides the removal of the Sovereign core, were intentionally aimed at him, and his methods of upliftment.

‘It could have been worse,’ he thought watching Heon die. ‘They could have stopped their learning ability altogether.’ The thought of which made him shiver, so he didn’t complain to the Celestials, or offer spite. He accepted the change, and the belief their decision was fair for the balance of the game.

‘The souls of Wonder will still rise,’ he thought, assuring himself. ‘It will just be slower than expected.’ That and having his followers stay dead, so they would have an easier time to ascend and grow, was now false. Staying alive and ascending within the bounds of flesh, was the better option.

‘Celestials be praised the change didn’t affect me.’

As a god he appeared to be exempt from the learning disability. Hopefully, once mortals become gods, the exemption would hold true for them as well.

‘No matter, even though everything isn’t going to our expectations, we are still advancing.’ Wonder was slowly becoming a force none would be able to suppress, and with enough preparation, something unable to fight.

The Vengeful were the first showing of that.

While other gods would be using their mortals, or themselves to fight off threats. They of Wonder would be using the dead, and constructs to house them within.

Not yet though, his golems were only for defense at the moment. The free movement of the dead was too advantageous right now to warrant their open use. But once Glor’s main tribe was closer, the god would get to experience the horrors of real warfare.

‘And you will see Glor,’ Malan thought with a smile. ‘Just how little a hunter can do.’

------------------------------

Hungry, Hungry, Hungry.

It echoed from so many of his children, and with the course of things, soon all.

They needed prey, needed the delight of flesh, and all of its bestowing strengths. His gatherers needed to hurry, what was taking them so long?

He turned his attention outward, quieting the echoes of his children and focusing on those hunting within the jungle.

Brows furrowed, his focus growing, he searched and searched, but nothing. There were no children to notice, no moments of achievement and the gathering of meat.

There was only the silence of death.

But how?

How all of them?

He moved small amounts of his essence outward, forced to search for lost children. If Death had claimed them, then soon he would stumble upon the souls of those vanquished. They would tell him their tales, the foes they faced, the defeats they suffered.

Whispers sounded softly in his ears.

‘Glor, Glor, Glor.’

‘There are monsters in the woods.’ The whispers shivered with fear. ‘The dead hunger for us.’

Lost children found their way back to him, their minds opening, their sights filling his.

Glowing, withering forms, shaped in the appearance of their most hated prey. He saw, he witnessed the withering figures slaughtering his children, laugh with delight as his sons found themselves helpless. The spears, the great tool of the hunt, were useless, the prey laughing at their efforts.

Rage filled him, the hated prey, the prey that could be the predator, were laughing, weren’t afraid, weren’t running.

His essence spread, finding the places of death. The withering prey were gone, the place empty, and devoid of Devotion meant for the land to drink.

There was only one entity he knew that caused such a thing.

The Watcher, the Predator.

He spread his awareness, turned completely from the voices of his safe children. He focused on the lands, reached out for those children he had sent to explore new unhunted lands.

Nothing.

Fur shivering, ears twitching and raised high, he reached out, awareness following the trails they had left. The lands blurred past, and soon the dead came to him. They felt his essence, rejoiced, and then gave him their tales.

The withering forms, the hated prey, the Kolune.

They butchered his children, they acted as predators, but were not, they left the meat to rot. Anger roared within him, the insult of it, his children killed for nothing.

Dead, dead everywhere, Lost children heading for him, their lives taken, their spirits broken.

‘We could do nothing.’

They whispered; they weep. ‘What do we do great Hunter, great Protector. What do we do?’

Fear spread, the great sign showing, his children were not safe, the lands not dominated.

His hands clenched, anger rising, his Spear singing. ‘Your great protector will teach them again; they are the prey, and we the Hunters.’

He felt and focused, called upon the nature of himself. His attention was pulled to the south, there, a great tide of his hated prey dwelt.

And where the Watcher would be found.

His dagger sang, the two great tools of hunting calling out for the head of that meddler.

He listened to the song, to its rhythm, and guided his children south.

-------------------------

In a myriad of places, Malan watched the assembly of dead. All of whom were waiting for a signal from him. Other gods were here to watch the show as well, but not intervene. They had been warned of the risk manifestation brought for gods.

Better to offer godly strength to the dead, so when they were sundered it would be small amounts lost, and left nothing behind.

They were going to be assaulting Glor’s main host after all, risks were already high, so there was no need to add more losses.

Glor knew of the dead, given he’d stopped splitting off groups from his tribe, and kept a close eye on the hunters sent out to gather meat. Some still ended up dying, since the Vengeful ignored Glor and went after the living.

The raids were still beneficial though, since it made Glor waste Devotion defending, and greatly reduced the amount of meat that could be gathered. That is, till Glor took matters into his own pawed hands.

The Hunter himself went out to gather meat now, shards of himself spreading across the land, so his followers could remain safe.

Gone was the confidence of Glor’s Heon, they were helpless against the Vengeful, and they knew it, it terrified them. Even boons from Glor mattered little, they could die, end, the Vengeful did not, as long as Devotion was fed to them, they kept coming back.

Though there was a penalty now. It appeared after their manifestations were destroyed, it cost more to form another. This lasted an hour, and after testing, became worse each time the form was broken within that allotted time.

An annoyance, but not a crippling blow to the ways of warfare that was normal in the later stages of the session before. If the Celestials thought this change alone was going to make gods spend their precious followers in battle, then they’d made a mistake.

It would take a lot more than a single penalty to stop the usefulness of empowered dead.

He prayed those entities weren’t planning to do just that, to remove this way of war, as they had removed the Sovereign cores.

If they did, then he would adapt, he and Wonder always did, like they were now. Still, it would be a major change, with many consequences when it came to dealing with the Endbringers.

But for now, nothing else was discovered and the Vengeful remained a great asset. They kept Glor on guard, and forced the god to keep a close watch on his following as they marched towards the promised lands.

But this meant there was no longer any easy to reach mortals. They had to commit, and Malan planned to make Glor pay for that.

The Hunter could see the first stages of it, since the dead couldn’t hide their forms like Gods could. It was plainly seen that Kolune ghosts were gathering all around the encampment of Heon. For gods anyways, none had manifested, so the mortals were clueless to the enemy encircling them.

That is, till Glor decided to inform the tribal leaders of what was happening. After, word spread amongst the living, and all the fighting fit males gathered at the edges of the encampment. Spears ready, and all of them prepared to lay down their lives to protect those within.

A show of bravery, given all of this was taking place in the blackness of deepest night. When Sun was furthest away, and his dim glowing sons were the only ones left to give some luminance to the lands. It was at these hours that the dead had the easiest and least costing manifestations. Creation was less annoyed with the violation of mundanity, and he was more than willing to take advantage of that.

A bundle of thoughts came to him, Myock sending its intentions, it was in place and ready to act.

‘Wait for my signal,’ he sent back, and gave the command to the Vengeful.

As one they appeared, the night shimmering as ghostly apparitions manifested. Dozens of them, their forms tense and fangs unhinged. They howled, then charged, the Heon shivered as they raised their spears into a defensive wall of spikes.

Such a meaningless act, the mortals would be crushed, butchered. That was the course of the exchange most suspected.

Not him.

Glor acted, as he knew the god would.

Avatars of the deity appeared, and intercepted the dead. Swifter than the latter, and stronger, the forms of the Vengeful were shattered by the might of his blows. Strangely though, Malan noted that Glor’s shards didn’t carry with them the spear and dagger covered in runes. Those in their hands were conjured wood, incredibly strong, but nothing the real pair possessed.

‘How much have you invested into those tools of yours?’ He wondered as the Vengeful, their forms destroyed, continued forward within the Glen. The shards of Glor tracked them, following the dead that the mortals couldn’t see.

Again, the night shimmered as dead returned to the mortal realm. Their forms racing towards the living as he bestowed them a boon of acceleration.

Glor’s many forms hastily pursued, his intervention catching the god unprepared.

The Dead and the living made contact. Heon in the front were sent hurling back, and killed by the force of the collision. Vengeful clawed wildly as they plunged their way through the walls of flesh.

Heon tried to slow them, ramming their spears into ghostly forms. Vengeful swiped back, killing and knocking mortal warriors away, leading to spears being left impaled within the transparent forms.

He saw some mortals become blest by Glor, their muscles bulging, and eyes widening with the rush of power. They charged the Kolune, ramming their weapons deep into the summons and trying to pin the Vengeful to the ground. It worked on some of the dead, but they laughed and let go of their forms. They slipped back into the Glen, and once free, rematerialized back in the realm, slashing at the blessed who dared to stop them.

The retaliation was short lived, the shards of Glor entered into the clustered melee, and began dispensing the dead, given their strikes couldn’t be ignored.

Souls were forced back into the Glen, their forms shattered by the wrath of a god. It didn’t stop them long, they walked through the fight, heading deeper into the encampment, but not towards its center.

‘Don’t touch the domain,’ he sent. The cost of Devotion was already high, trying to maintain them within Glor’s hallowed area would have been a foolish expense.

They listened, scattered about the outer parts of the camp, and reformed around terrified Heon.

He pulled his attention away from the scene, of the sight he couldn’t watch and focused on Glor. His shards raced through the place, often jumping high in the air to crash upon surprised Vengeful. His emotional state was an open book, fury, and hate. It made his short muzzle crease back and display his pointed teeth as he dealt with the dead a third time.

He appeared sufficiently distracted, and the Vengeful usefulness was meeting its end, given the cost to manifest again was unacceptable.

‘Now.’ He sent to Myock, and not even a breath passed before the lands trembled.

The ground began to buckle, the surge of Myock’s will ready to turn the area into a spiked monument of impaled bodies.

Even Glor wouldn’t be able to recover from such a blow, then they-

A bright light flared from the middle of the camp, within Glor’s domain where his main shrine was housed. The trembles of the land ceased, and Myock sent him visions.

Another force, Glor, was contesting it. The Heon god poured power into the work, into a miracle he shouldn’t have the means to do. The attack was repelled, the land quiet.

He felt Myock rage, and not because it had been countered, no, the real source of the emotion was how it had been done.

It sent it to him, the glimpse of its corpse, the one Glor had defeated and taken as a trophy. It had been worked upon, turn into trinkets, into armor.

The real Glor showed himself, his spear and dagger ready, and now pieces of miracle stone made into a tribal suit.

The ground answered him, and the few Vengeful remaining found themselves impaled by large ground spikes that lifted them into the air.

Malan paid little attention to the scene, since his mind was spinning at the revelation.

‘Artifacts can be made from the corpses of gods.’

Their power used by others.

How many did Glor have access to? He’d butchered many tribes, and while most were likely the same gift, the bestowing of strength. Not all would be.

‘That’s how he used the wind against Prost and Stron.’

Glor had killed a wind elemental at some point, made a trinket out of it.

Myock sent intentions to him, requesting orders, a question of whether it should try again.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘We’re done spending Devotion this night, retreat, Glor has revealed a secret to us that will haunt him for the rest of his existence. But I need time to act upon it.’

He repeated his command to the Vengeful, the battle was over, and those few who had stubbornly tried to fight on, withered away. They returned to the Glen, and glared hatefully at the Heon as they did so. Not that the mortals could see the spite.

But Glor’s many shards did, and they all tracked the dead with unblinking eyes. When all was clear, the forms of the Hunter raised their spears, let out mighty battle cries, a declaration of victory, and one the mortals soon joined.

They thought themselves safe, the threat defeated and their end stopped.

It should have been a moment of bitterness, his foe revealed to be stronger and more dangerous than ever before.

Yet Malan couldn’t help but smile.

‘Artifacts can be made from Avatars.’ A god could manifest, be killed, and parts of them be used to make wonders for mortals and other gods.

He laughed as his shard retreated, his being filling with excitement.

‘Oh thank you Glor.’ He thought affectionately, as his mind filled with all the Wonders he was going to forge.