Morning had barely risen, but the deeper layers of Blackwood Forest felt as though dawn had refused to enter. The old trees grew thick here—roots coiling like serpents, branches locking together overhead, blotting out most of the light. A faint chill clung to the air, and a thin layer of mist drifted close to the ground, shifting like pale ghosts between the trunks.
Shen Qing tread carefully across the uneven earth.
Every sense he possessed was stretched thin. Every step was measured.
He wasn't afraid of spirit beasts—any hunter worth the name learned to respect the forest's dangers—but today felt different. As though the forest itself was holding its breath. As though something unseen watched from just beyond the shade.
He swallowed.Not fear.
Awareness.
And beneath that, a faint warmth wrapped around his chest, settling into his skin like a protective mantle.
The same warmth he felt the moment he carved the wooden statue.The same warmth from the void where he'd first seen Him.
A god's presence.
"Great One…" he whispered under his breath, barely letting the words escape.
The warmth flickered gently, as if acknowledging him.
Shen Qing exhaled slowly. His heartbeat steadied.
He pushed deeper into the trees.
From his shrine at the heart of Blackwood Forest, Li Wei remained seated in silence.
A faint breeze passed through the clearing, stirring the moss at his feet. Light filtered in soft strands through the treetops, touching the stone shrine with a pale glow.
He did not open his eyes.
He didn't need to.
His divine sense spread across the forest like a thin veil of perception, subtle and unobtrusive, touching every leaf, every shift of air, every trembling heartbeat within his domain.
He felt Shen Qing's steps.
He sensed the hunter's resolve. His doubt. His earnest fear—and his devotion.
It wasn't much faith. Only one or two small drops a day.
But sincerity mattered more than quantity.
And Shen Qing's sincerity radiated more brightly than incense.
A faint system ripple brushed Li Wei's awareness.
[Faith Received Today: 1][Stored Faith: 3][Next Conversion to Incense: 1st of the Month]
Three small sparks. Barely enough to light a candle, but still… real.
Still his.
Li Wei rested his hand lightly on the shrine stone.
"Careful now, Shen Qing," he murmured faintly—words that no mortal ear would ever hear.
The 1st-order spirit beast ahead was not truly dangerous by divine standards.
But to a mortal…
Li Wei let his eyes open a fraction.
A ripple of divine light pulsed quietly beneath the shrine.
He had already given Shen Qing a subtle blessing. Enough to turn danger aside, nothing more. The boy needed growth—not miracles handed freely.
The dignity of a god required restraint.
Still… Li Wei's gaze sharpened.
If the forest dared to harm his first believer—
Then perhaps a little more subtle influence wouldn't hurt.
He closed his eyes again.
And watched.
Shen Qing crouched beside a fallen tree, brushing aside damp leaves. The ground was soft here—perfect for tracking. He found the prints immediately:
Large, deeper than expected.Claws extended.Pattern… erratic.
His brows furrowed.
"This… isn't just a cougar," he muttered.
Ordinary cougars didn't wander this close to the village. They stayed deeper in the forest, avoiding human activity unless starving.
These tracks weren't bold. They were frantic.
Something had pushed it out of its territory.
A pressure.
A threat.
Maybe even another spirit beast.
Shen Qing stood slowly, scanning the forest.
A twig snapped.
His fingers tightened around his bow, drawing an arrow. His eyes narrowed, searching the mist. His pulse quickened.
Another snap.
Then—breathing.
Low. Heavy. Wet.
Shen Qing turned sharply.
And froze.
A shape emerged from behind the dense bushes—a large cougar, but unlike any mortal animal. Its fur glimmered faintly in the shadowed light, patterns of ash-grey streaks marking its sides. Its pupils glowed with a thin ring of pale blue.
A spirit beast.
First-order.
Not intelligent, but dangerous.
Its muscles rippled beneath its fur. Drool slid down its fangs. Its tail lashed the air.
Shen Qing inhaled sharply. He had fought wolves, boars, even a diseased black-backed bear once, but this… this thing radiated instinctive danger.
It stepped forward.
Shen Qing drew back his bowstring.
The beast growled.
Shen Qing fired.
The arrow flew straight—and the beast twisted aside, unnaturally quick. The arrow nicked its shoulder, drawing shallow blood, but not slowing it.
The spirit beast lunged.
Shen Qing barely rolled aside. Its claws tore through the bark where he had stood, shredding a tree trunk like thin fabric.
Cold sweat trickled down his spine.
"Too fast—!"
He scrambled back, drawing another arrow.
The beast turned, lowering its head, readying another leap.
Shen Qing aimed—
The beast moved.
Too fast for his eyes.
Too fast for any mortal.
Time seemed to stretch.
In that split second, as death barreled toward him—
Warmth flared across his skin.
Not from within.
From beyond.
A soft, gentle pulse.
Like a divine hand nudging the world.
The cougar's leap skewed—just slightly, just enough. Instead of landing on Shen Qing's throat, its claws scraped across his arm, tearing flesh but missing bone.
Shen Qing cried out, rolling away, clutching the bleeding wound.
He stared at the beast, panting.
And then he softly whispered:
"Great One… You're watching, aren't you?"
The warmth flickered faintly.
A silent confirmation.
A vow of presence.
His fear steadied. His hands stopped shaking. His breath came slower, controlled.
He wasn't alone.
Not completely.
He tightened the grip on his knife.
This time, he stood with a hunter's resolve.
The beast lunged again.
Shen Qing dropped low, sliding under its arc, knife flashing upward. The blade cut into its flank, shallow but clean.
The beast screamed, thrashing.
Shen Qing stumbled, rolled, grabbed his fallen bow.
His arm throbbed with pain, hot blood dripping down his wrist. But he gritted his teeth and ignored it.
He nocked an arrow.
The cougar charged again.
This time—Shen Qing didn't dodge.
He waited.
One more step.
Half a step.
Now—
He fired.
The arrow sank deep into its throat.
The beast let out a choking growl, stumbling, blood spraying across the moss. It collapsed heavily onto its side.
The forest went quiet.
Shen Qing collapsed to his knees, chest heaving. Sweat dripped down his temples. His arm burned with sharp pain, but he could still move it. He exhaled slowly, the tension leaking from his limbs.
Then—
He bowed his head toward the sky.
Not fully. Not on his knees.
But enough.
"Great One… thank You."
The warmth deepened—gentler, steadier.
Not overpowering.
Not boastful.
Simply present.
Far away, in the shrine's clearing, Li Wei slowly opened his eyes.
He felt the beast's spirit dissipate. He felt Shen Qing's pain, fear, gratitude—and the spark of faith born from surviving death.
Another system message drifted through his divine core.
[Shen Qing's Faith Increased: +1][Stored Faith: 4]
The corners of Li Wei's lips curved slightly.
Not a smile.
A quiet acknowledgment.
He had intervened only once—barely—but the boy still survived through his own strength.
Good.
A mortal who relied blindly on miracles was not worth nurturing.
A believer who struggled, endured, and grew…That was the kind worth guiding.
Li Wei stood slowly, sleeve brushing against the shrine stone.
His gaze shifted toward the distant trees.
This forest was still small, weak, an insignificant corner of a vast mortal world.
But it was his corner.
His domain.
And within it—
A single mortal had lit the first candle of worship.
A very small flame.
But a beginning nonetheless.
By the time Shen Qing emerged from the forest's edge, carrying the corpse of the spirit beast on his back, the sun had risen high. Villagers were already gathering by the well, anxiously awaiting news.
The moment they saw the beast's head dangling from Shen Qing's grip, a wave of gasps swept through the crowd.
"That's a spirit beast—!""By the heavens…""How did he kill something like that alone?"
The village head stepped forward, eyes wide.
"Shen Qing… this… how did you do it?"
Shen Qing opened his mouth—paused.
He couldn't say "I was protected by a god."They would laugh. They would mock him.Or worse—they would dismiss Him.
The Great One deserved reverence, not ridicule.
So Shen Qing lowered his gaze.
"I was lucky," he said quietly. "The beast was already injured when I found it."
Not a lie.Not the whole truth.
The villagers murmured, nodding. People liked explanations that made sense. Shen Qing was the best hunter in the village. Of course he managed it.
No one doubted him.
Except one person.
An elderly woman standing near the back of the crowd frowned thoughtfully.
Her gaze lingered on Shen Qing's wound, then on the faint, unexplainable calm in his eyes.
But she said nothing.
Shen Qing walked past the crowd and headed home, exhaustion settling into his bones. Every step felt heavier, but his heart felt strangely light.
When he finally reached his room, he shut the door, sat on the floor, and opened the cloth pouch.
The small wooden statue rested in his palm.
He lifted it gently.
"I survived," he whispered softly. "Because You watched over me."
He bowed his head over the tiny carving.
This time, the warmth that enveloped him was stronger.
Not overwhelming.
Not shocking.
Just… close.
Like a divine hand resting on his shoulder.
And for the first time—Shen Qing felt something new blooming in his chest.
Not fear.Not desperation.
Devotion.
A belief with roots.
A belief that would grow.
He pressed the wooden statue gently to his forehead.
"Great One… I will repay Your grace. No matter what it takes."
And somewhere deep within Blackwood Forest—
Li Wei opened his eyes slowly.
The faintest trace of a divine smile touched the corner of his lips.
The first worshiper had taken another step.
And the world had taken its first step toward remembering that gods still existed.
Though only one remained.