Nazla was silent for a moment, seemingly considering her words:
"It is difficult to fathom God's will with ordinary emotions. In tribal legends and priestly teachings, He is both a loving father and a strict teacher, and also the cruel law of nature itself."
"The Father, for He gives life and the power to procreate to all beings; His grace is like sunshine and rain, nourishing all living things on earth."
A strict teacher, because He values strength, courage, the wisdom of survival, and the continuation of the race; the law of the jungle, survival of the fittest, is sacred and necessary in His eyes.
He favors the mighty warriors, but also ruthlessly eliminates those who cannot survive harsh environments.
Her voice carried a hint of barely perceptible chill: "As for sacrifice... blood, in the traditions of the orcs, especially in communication with the ancestral spirits and the god of beasts, it has an extremely sacred meaning."
It symbolizes the essence of life, the source of power, and the most direct and 'real' medium for establishing connections.
Offering 'blood' to Him is not merely about killing for pleasure, but about offering the most precious life energy to open the gates of the divine realm and prove the piety and qualifications of the worshipper.
This blood could be the burning blood of a powerful prey, or it could be... the vital essence of the heart of the one who comes to pay homage, imbued with immense power.
Nazra looked at Linde, a hint of worry in her purple eyes:
"Linde, this invitation itself implies great danger. To have an audience with a god, especially one so 'living' and 'encompassing' all forms of life, is by no means an easy journey."
His will is as vast as the sea of stars, and a mortal soul within it is as insignificant as dust. If one is not careful, one may be assimilated and swallowed up by that mighty torrent of life, becoming an insignificant feature or shadow in His glorious body.
Or...those whom He sees as 'unfit' and needing to 'eliminate'.
She paused, then emphasized:
His "inclusivity" is directed towards the entire spectrum of life, not towards every individual who intrudes into His domain.
Before Him, your 'uniqueness,' your identity as an oracle, your human identity, are both 'highlights' that attract His attention and potentially... fatal 'heresy.'
Lind fell into a long silence.
Nazra's description paints a picture of a deity that is far more complex and awe-inspiring than simply "powerful".
Urano the Goldenmane Watcher is the source of life and the embodiment of the law; his love and cruelty are two sides of the same coin.
To have an audience with Him is like throwing yourself into a vortex of the wills of billions of lives, where you either find your place or are completely crushed and assimilated.
…………
Linde ultimately did not choose to directly meet the God of Beasts.
Nazra's description was like ice water poured over his head, instantly cooling his boiling enthusiasm.
Such a "vibrant" deity, whose will is as powerful as the torrent of life, has a realm that he cannot easily enter at this stage.
"Now is not the time."
Linde carefully put away the letter that carried the divine oracle, his gaze fixed on the towering outline of Ironrock Castle's walls outside the window, as if he could see through the stone walls to his Blackrock Territory in the distance.
“I need time, I need a foundation, I need… to be in my castle so that I can calmly think about how to respond to this ‘invitation’.”
He knew that meeting the gods, especially in this primitive way of "offering blood," was not just a matter of courage.
That concerns the strength of the soul, the understanding of the nature of one's own power, and the insight into divine rules.
He has too many secrets—his identity as an oracle, fragments of god-slaying metal, the deconstruction halo, and even his subtle and dangerous connection with the Lord of the Light Veins—any one of these secrets, if exposed before a "Lord of All Spirits," could lead to unpredictable consequences.
Return to Blackrock Territory.
The idea became incredibly clear and urgent.
Only in his own territory, with Alice's knowledge and Leonis's military protection, could he have enough confidence and space to digest the enormous gains from the Rust Rift, to unravel the mysteries of the God-Slaying Metal, and to plan how to utilize this "attention" from the God of Beasts.
Putting aside the enormous weight of the audience hanging over his head, Lind found himself with a mountain of tasks, each one urgent.
“First, Alice’s gift…” Lind rubbed his temples, trying to dispel the heavy thoughts about the gods.
The warm afternoon sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting long, slanted patches of light into the room.
He walked to his desk, spread out a thick stack of high-quality parchment specially used for drawing magical diagrams, and took out a specially made drawing pen infused with a trace of magic, its tip shimmering with a steady glow.
His consciousness sank into the depths of his sea of consciousness, where all the details of the "Crystal Relic Cannon," perfectly replicated by the deconstruction halo, were presented as clearly as a precise holographic blueprint.
The wisdom of the Ok people was revealed to him in every detail.
"A brilliant design concept..."
As Linde sighed, his wrist fell steadily. The drawing pen made a soft, smooth scratching sound on the parchment, precisely outlining the structure of the first core energy conversion matrix.
Through the insight gained from deconstructing the halo, Lind fully understood the brilliant ideas of the Orc engineers.
They lacked highly skilled individuals to construct complex magic circuits, and since they couldn't create artificial crystal skeletons, they had to compensate with humans.
Linde was completely focused, his wrist as steady as a rock, his mind highly concentrated.
Deconstructing the halo is like using the most sophisticated scanner and the most powerful processor to perfectly project the three-dimensional blueprint in your mind onto two-dimensional parchment.
Every line, every rune detail, and every dimension mark is meticulously crafted to be accurate.
One, two, three... dozens of drawings were created under his pen, covering the table and even scattered on the carpet.
"I must say, these Orks... are really smart."
Lin De put down his pen, let out a long sigh, rubbed his slightly sore wrist, and looked at the thick stack of blueprints in front of him, which were the culmination of his hard work, with admiration in his eyes.
"They broke free from the conventional mindset that mages rely on pure magic power. No crystal skeletons? No high-level mages? Then they'll build them up using the most basic magic power!"
"They used the power of 'humans' to make up for the lack of 'magic power,' and even... surpassed the pure Crystal Dragon Breath Cannon in some aspects!"
"Alice..."
A slight smile played on Linde's lips as he carefully arranged all the drawings in order and bound them securely with strong leather rope.
"This 'gift' should be enough to ignite your research-obsessed heart... I hope you like it."
He carefully and solemnly tucked the heavy bundle of blueprints into his mage's sleeve.
"Phew..." After doing all this, Lin De felt even more mentally exhausted. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and planned to rest for a while.
Just then, a pair of soft, warm arms wrapped around his neck from behind, carrying the fresh scent of a post-shower bath and a languid warmth.
"Are you done with work?"
Nazla's languid voice rang in his ear, slightly hoarse from just waking up, her warm breath brushing against his earlobe.
"My lord, don't you get bored staring at these cold, lifeless lines all afternoon?"
Her fingertips playfully drew circles on his chest.
Linde took her hand in his own and pulled her in front of him, letting her sit on his lap.
Nazra nestled into his arms, her long silver hair cascading down like a waterfall, her amethyst eyes looking at him with a mischievous smile:
"They all have gifts... what about mine? Lord Linde, aren't you afraid your little fox will get jealous if you take such a 'big gift' back to appease your mage lady?"
She deliberately dragged out her words and gently tapped the tip of his nose with her finger.
Linde chuckled, tightened his arms, and lowered his head to plant a kiss on her smooth forehead: "Your gift... isn't it me? Isn't that enough?"
"Hmph, you smooth talker!" Nazra scolded playfully, but the smile in her eyes deepened. She leaned close to Linde's ear, her voice low and alluringly moist, "Then..."
As Linde looked at the flame dancing in her eyes, the day's fatigue seemed to be instantly ignited.
He picked up Nazla and strode toward the large bed that had held countless passions and was now about to become a new battlefield.
"As you wish, my little fox..."
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