The rain continued echoing through the broken temple when the system's cold voice returned to Kevin's mind.
[System Notification]
You have obtained: Lightning Fang
You have obtained: Stormbound Armor
The words hovered for a second before dissolving into nothing.
Kevin barely reacted.
His hands were pressed against Black Rabbit's shattered chest as pale green light pulsed from his palms into the cracked shadow armor. The healing flowed smoothly now—too smoothly. He could feel not just his own power moving through his body, but Sallie's as well. The warmth of life itself obeyed him without resistance.
That alone should have terrified him.
But his thoughts were still tangled in something far darker.
Kill… slash… stab. Burn everything…
The voices still echoed faintly at the back of his skull, like whispers trapped behind thick glass.
He had no memory of what came after the darkness—only the end. Only Kelya falling. Only rain falls, mourning as a god died.
Black Rabbit's chest knit itself closed with a ripple of shadow. He exhaled slowly and straightened.
Kevin pulled his hands away.
"…You're alive," he murmured.
Black Rabbit nodded once.
Behind them, the villagers began to walk.
They thought their god won the battle.
One by one, white-robed bodies entered the temple. Joy turned into horror the moment they saw the massive white corpse sprawled across the temple floor.
Their god.
The Storm Tiger.
Dead.
A woman screamed.
Another collapsed to her knees.
Soon, the entire temple filled with wailing.
Men beat their chests. Elders pressed their foreheads to the floor. Children clutched their parents in silent terror. Rain still dripped through the ruined roof, tapping softly against stone—but it already felt wrong, like a farewell rather than a blessing.
"This is the last rain…"
"The mountain has been slain…"
"Our fields will turn to dust…"
"We are cursed…"
Kevin stood slowly, blood still drying on his skin. As he turned, dozens of eyes locked onto him at once.
Fear twisted into rage.
They surrounded him in an uneven half-circle, white robes splattered with rain and old ritual paint. Some carried farming tools. Others carried nothing but their grief.
An elderly man stepped forward, trembling.
"You killed her," he said hoarsely. "Our god. Our rain. Our life."
Kevin said nothing.
"You outsiders came as guests," another villager shouted, voice breaking, "and you slaughtered the one who protected us!"
"She gave us water!"
"She gave us harvest!"
"She gave us life!"
Kevin lowered his gaze, then knelt beside Black Rabbit once more, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"She also demanded our blood," Kevin said quietly. "How many have you killed just to please your god? How many lives have lost for your Blood Harvest?"
That only enraged them further.
"A god's will is above human suffering!"
"You doomed us all!"
"Without her, the rains will never return!"
Hands tightened on tools. Feet shifted closer.
Kevin felt the strange dual presence inside his body pulse. With Black Rabbit's power and speed, Sallie's warmth. He could end them all in seconds.
The thought came too easily.
That frightened him more than their anger.
The village chief pushed through the crowd, his ceremonial headdress crooked and soaked.
"You have doomed this land," he said, pointing a trembling finger at Kevin. "Without the mountain god, the sky will abandon us. The river will dry. Our children will starve."
Kevin rose fully now, meeting his gaze.
"She was no god," he answered evenly. "She was a Defiled Soulborne."
The chief's lips trembled. "Call her what you wish. She gave us rain."
Kevin retorted, "She took lives for it."
A murmur rippled through the villagers.
"The sacrifices were necessary!"
"Necessary for her," Kevin replied. "Not for you."
"You don't understand!" a woman cried. "The mountain traps the clouds. Without her storm, the rains will never reach our valley!"
"Then this rain," Kevin said quietly, glancing upward as droplets continued to fall through the broken ceiling, "is your last blessing from her."
The words struck like a funeral bell.
Some villagers broke down completely.
Others glared at him with naked hatred.
"You will leave us to die," the chief whispered.
Kevin hesitated.
Before he could speak again, hurried footsteps echoed across the stone.
"Enough!" Celize's voice rang out.
She and Sallie rushed back into the temple, Celize placing herself squarely between Kevin and the villagers.
"Lira was not your god," Celize declared. "She was a predator wearing divinity as a mask. If she had lived, she would have bled you dry."
"And without her," the chief shot back, "we have no water!"
Celize opened her mouth—
Then stopped.
She turned slowly toward Kevin.
"You know something," she said softly. "Don't you?"
Kevin exhaled.
"Maybe," he admitted. "But tell me something first."
He met the villagers' eyes.
"Why should I help people who tried to cut our throats?"
Silence fell.
Then, one by one, they began to kneel.
Foreheads struck stone.
"We were wrong," the chief whispered. "But wrong men still wish to live."
It was desperation that finally moved Kevin—not forgiveness.
A river lay two kilometers from the village, winding through the forest below the mountain. Its elevation was lower than the village itself. Gravity alone would never carry its water uphill.
But water could be forced.
Kevin explained the concept slowly, drawing with his dagger on the stone floor.
"A diversion weir," he said. "You block part of the river. Not completely—just enough to raise the upstream water level. Once it's high enough, you carve a canal that lets the water flow toward your village."
The villagers stared blankly.
Celize frowned. "So… you're making the river climb?"
Kevin smirked faintly. "I'm making the river take the long way around."
"Can it be done?"
"Yes," he answered. "But it'll take time. And labor. Digging trenches will be the hardest part."
"We will dig," the chief said instantly. "Day and night if we must."
Kevin gave a short nod. "Then I'll find you the right spot."
By noon, the group reached the river.
The sun burned away the last remnants of the storm. The water flowed swift and clear between high stone banks, unaware that it was about to be reshaped by human hands.
Kevin walked along the river for nearly an hour, scanning the terrain.
Then he stopped.
"This is it."
A narrow bottleneck between two stone outcroppings, one side rising sharply into a cliff. The river compressed and deepened here, its current violently concentrated.
"Dig your trench from here," Kevin said. "Angling toward the village."
Dozens of men and women immediately set to work, earth flying beneath frantic hands. They dig for two hours until a swallow trench was made. It was only a foot deep.
But for Kevin that's enough.
He said, "That might be enough for now. You can dig deeper later."
He stepped into the river.
Cold water rushed around his legs.
He closed his eyes.
Green light surged from his body—the same power Sallie used, now woven seamlessly into his own. Roots erupted from the riverbed, thick and intertwined, forming a dense living wall across the bottleneck.
The water slammed into it.
The level rose rapidly.
Higher.
Higher.
Until it nearly touched the riverbank.
Then the excess water released both overhead and sideways, pouring naturally into the newly dug trench.
A steady stream formed.
Celize's breath caught.
"…It's working."
Kevin opened his eyes, sweat beading on his brow.
"The rest is up to you," he said. "Line the canal with stone. Reinforce the banks. Keep it clean. If you're careless, the water will claim your village instead of saving it."
The villagers stared at the flowing water in stunned silence.
Then they bowed—deeply.
Again.
And again.
By the time the canal's first rough stretch was stable, the sun had begun to sink.
Kevin did not stay to witness their celebration.
He turned back toward the mountain path with Celize at his side.
Behind him, the villagers worked with frantic devotion, driven not by faith in a god—but by the fear of the land itself.
Celize walked quietly for a while before finally speaking.
"You saved them," she said.
Kevin's gaze remained forward.
"I didn't save them," he replied. "I just showed them where the water already was."
Celize looked at Kevin, "Why didn't you accept their offer to stay there for the night? They mightn't be going to harm us."
Kevin nonchalantly said, "I'd rather be in the wilderness than interact with people wearing masks."