If you notice any errors, please feel free to give me constructive feedback. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please mention them in the comment section at the end of the chapter. I do not own Overlord. All property rights belong to their respective creators. Let's begin the story!
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Chapter-35
Abelion Hills,
New World – Present Time;
Overlord Verse;
The Temple of the Supreme Lord – The Omnipotent God;
More than two centuries had passed since the Golden Doors—the Gate to the Eternal Flying Garden of Utopia, Avalon—had descended to the New World. The new religion, centred around the supposed Supreme God residing beyond the Golden Door, had made waves among the Four-Clan Alliance of the Abelion Hills. As their devotion ran deep, on extreme levels for few of them.
The Four-Clan Alliance, centred around the Griff, Dark Dwarves, Turtle Clan, and Goat Beastmen – along with a few small demi-human tribes who had pledged their allegiance and come under the shelter of the Divine Door – spent their days defending their territory as they led a peaceful life. While the Goat Beastmen were inherently savage and believed in the oppression of the weak, having fallen against the combined forces of the Griff and Dark Dwarves, they had suppressed their desires, curious about the miracles enacted by the Griff and Dark Dwarves. Amazed by the divine spectacle, they joined under the same banner and began worshipping the Divine Door.
The alliance had built four major villages in the four directions from the Divine Door to manage themselves. The city of the Griff, on the peaks of multiple hills, was named after the Griff who discovered the Divine Door – Greydor.
Greydor was located north of the Divine Door; similarly, to the south was Zeo Aria, the home of the Dark Dwarves. The Dark Dwarves had migrated near the Divine Door to better maintain their link and connection to the Supreme Deity.
Tortius, the home of the Turtle Clan, that lay to the west. To the east was Morcius, home of the Goat Beastmen.
The four towns surrounded the Divine Door, which stood within the hill erected by the Dark Dwarves with the aid of the Goat Beastmen. The hill stood paramount through the ages, as many members of the Four-Clan Alliance visited it at least once a week. It had become a routine. The alliance functioned with the efforts from the shared effort of all races. While, the Dark Dwarves mainly focused on blacksmithing and the research of runecraft.
The Turtle Clan primarily focused on agriculture. Being a peaceful race with the longest lifespan among the alliance, they remained secluded, barely making contact with other tribes outside the Four-Clan Alliance. The Griff, similar to the Turtle Clan, were a peaceful race – unlike their monster counterparts, who were known for their ferocious nature. However, both the monster Griffins and the Griff were territorial.
The Griff mainly focused on hunting, fishing, and carpentry, while the Goat Beastmen focused on hunting and the research of magical arts – creating new spells, just as the Turtle Clan focused on martial arts. With the alliance established, they survived through trade and bartering, while other small tribes that sought asylum with them took on odd jobs.
The Alliance had surprisingly created a peaceful environment for its members, except when other tribes of the Abelion Hills invaded any member of the alliance—only to be repelled by the combined force of the alliance. They neither invaded nor expanded their territory; due to the limited fertility common among them, they hadn't sought more land. Though their population had grown, it was a result of the peace they had maintained.
Still, the Goat Beastmen, throughout the years, had favored conquering lands outside their home, standing opposed to the peace the others advocated. They failed to understand the restrained way of life the alliance followed, with three of its four major members advocating peace and maintaining a controlled defensive stance against invading tribes.
It confounded them, as they supported harsher retaliation against aggressors—invaders of their land.
Despite the complete eradication of any forces that dared set foot on their territory—enforced by majority vote within the alliance—it was still viewed as cowardice and weak-willed action by the Goat Beastmen. They had always yearned to conquer the world, and with the Supreme Lord's blessing, they saw nothing across the lands and in the wide world that could be considered a true obstacle capable of hindering them.
******
Central Hall,
The Temple of the Supreme Lord – The Omnipotent God;
Divine Hill of the Supreme God;
Exiting the wooden building built inside an adjacent, connecting hill to the one erected around the Divine Door, a young Goat Beastman fumed as he walked through the city of Dor. The marketplace was bustling, with stalls set up by members of the Alliance races. Having observed humans, they had learned a fair share of methods to manage goods exchange – to smoothen the transaction and process, as advised by the Dark Dwarves.
Under the guise of illusion runes, the Demi-Humans of the Alliance had accompanied the Dark Dwarves to human cities and tried setting up a similar system to smoothen the process.
The sight brought a smile to the young Goat Beastman's face, as he admired the ever-expanding and advancing city. The City of Dor was a shared city—home to priests and other important figures of the Alliance, along with merchants who brought goods from their home villages to barter.
Standing in the market square, the young Goat Beastman mused, 'We have yet to use gold as the primary currency like humans, but the way we trade has no problems so far.'
The young Goat Beastman shook his head, unable to understand the stance of the Elders at the council, recalling the meeting from just a few minutes ago. While he was pleased with their progress, their position on invaders angered him. 'We are powerful, with many strong warriors and casters capable of using third-tier spells—not to mention a few capable of casting fourth-tier spells. I don't understand why those Elders are happy with the current status quo.' He cursed under his breath. 'Had it been Father, I'm sure he could have managed to convince them,' he thought, a crestfallen expression settling on his face.
Just as he was about to sink into gloom, a young Griff landed beside him and patted him on the back.
"I heard about the meeting, Zorak. You were great—everyone was praising you," muttered the young Griff, speaking to the Goat Beastman named Zorak.
Zorak turned to look at his friend, wondering whether the constant rebuttals he had received from the Elders were truly something to be praised. But he chose not to voice his thoughts.
His friend, oblivious to Zorak's inner turmoil, continued, "I could never manage to utter a single syllable before the Council of Elders—and I'm sure they wouldn't have understood my fragmented way of speech anyway. I wish I had a fraction of your confidence," muttered the young Griff as he smiled and joined Zorak on his walk.
Amused by his friend's take, Zorak spoke. "I'm sure you can do it yourself, Adravth. All I did was voice my thoughts before the council, only to be met with rebuttals and denial," Zorak muttered, his tone resigned.
"Have some pride, my friend. It's no small thing to keep your composure—to not stutter or break down before the council. Yet you managed to stay calm and even argued with them. There aren't many who can brag about that," Adravth replied, his tone carrying genuine emotion.
Zorak couldn't help but smile at the nonchalant attitude of his friend. As heirs of their respective tribes, they had grown up together, bonded by shared expectations and burdens.
"Well, to be frank, there isn't anyone in these Abelion Hills—or possibly even beyond—who can boast of using nine different martial arts at once, and at such a young age," Zorak muttered, causing his friend Adravth to smile shyly and blush from the excessive praise.
The conversation, however, stirred something unpleasant in Zorak. As the son of the Goat Beastmen's previous Chief, Zolstrak—a magic caster capable of wielding fifth-tier magic—Zorak was expected to lead his tribe. And yet, he struggled even with casting first-tier spells. His friend had been born a genius. The comparison stung, breeding a quiet jealousy that he tried to bury, forcing a smile as he glanced around the market.
******
To most of the Demi-Humans, gold didn't hold as much value as it did for humans and Dwarves, who used it regularly. Zorak smiled at the merchants bartering goods brought from their homes to exchange with others. As they carried the traded goods back, they would barter them again—sort of making a profit through trade. Though most relied on bartering within their home towns, in the city of Dor, they primarily used gold coins forged by the Dwarves.
They had been making progress, and with their current strength, Zorak had felt confident in laying siege to the fortress city to the west – they possessed the power to do so. However, he waited for the council to grant its approval for retaliating against the invading Demi-Human tribes and the human nation to the east—the same nation that had slain his father while he defended their outpost. Without their approval, he couldn't move the alliance, as even his own tribe valued strength over anything. By which he remained equally powerless on both fronts.
He cursed the powerlessness he felt, unable to exact vengeance. And the power he held was only temporary—until the next chief of his tribe was appointed. He cursed his fate, his weakness, and his inability to lead his tribe as the next chief. The Elders of the Council remained equally powerless, unable to interfere in the selection of a tribe's next leader.
Zorak had no powerful allies within his tribe, so his last chance to request retaliation against the humans and the other tribes who kept poking at their alliance seemed like a pipe dream—let alone getting another audience with the Elders at the Council. It could have been his last chance, to present his front – request before the council.
The truth stung his heart.
Zorak watched as his friend bought a couple of fruits from a stall and returned. Passing one to Zorak, Adravth munched on his fruit.
Resigned to his fate, Zorak prayed to the Divine Door, to the Supreme God, to aid him in his vengeance. He had yet to take a bite of his fruit when they felt a tremor within the city of Dor.
As soon as the tremor subsided, Zorak looked over at his friend Adravth. They had been friends for so long that they could communicate with just a glance. A single look was enough to set them in motion—Adravth unfurled his wings and took flight, while Zorak, born without any talent in magic, was nonetheless capable of sensing mana and soul, – He possessed a talent that let him see and sense mana and soul. From the tremor just now, he had felt a subtle burst of violent mana released from the direction of the Temple.
Worried about a possible attack by humans or other tribes on their Divine Temple, rage surged through him once again. He cursed the Elders of the Council for giving a free pass and tolerating the existence of those lowly creatures. Though the alliance considered themselves the chosen mortals of the Supreme God, there was still a quiet bias among them, with each race believing itself superior—though none voiced it aloud. They were all lost in the prosperity and power the alliance had brought, each heavily dependent on the others for the continued existence of their clans amid the hungry and savage tribes inhabiting the Abelion Hills.
Zorak took one last look at the marketplace, noticing the arrival of guards who had begun calming the growing anxiety among the citizens of Dor. Clenching his fist, he activated the teleportation magic rune enchanted onto one of the rings he wore and transported himself directly to a place close to the origin point where he had sensed the magical disturbance.
******
Arriving at the scene—at the entrance of the hill—Zorak noticed the disarray and confusion spreading among the people gathered around the Temple of the Supreme Lord, the situation growing more chaotic by the minute. Sensing the soul signature of his friend nearby, he activated another ring inscribed with a Flight rune.
Zorak took to the skies just as he felt the familiar presence of Adravth approaching.
"What's the status?" was the first thing his friend asked as he flew alongside him.
"I'm not sure. It was already like this when I got here," Zorak muttered before narrowing his eyes toward the temple's entrance. "Zenith seems to be managing the crowd at the gate. He should know what's going on."
"Alright, after you," replied Adravth, flying in sync beside him.
With teleportation barred within and around the hill housing the temple, Zorak maneuvered through the sky toward it. The two weaved through the crowd until they reached the temple entrance.
However, flight was strictly forbidden by the laws of the Four-Clan Alliance within the bounds of the Divine Hill. As such, Zorak and Adravth were not met with a warm welcome—the Templar guards immediately raised their weapons in response.
******
A towering Griff poised his spear at the intruder—despite said intruder being the heir of the Griff tribe. But before the Supreme Lord, the Templar Guards wielded authority beyond such titles. Following the Griff, the other Templar Guards from the remaining tribes raised their weapons as well, leveling them at the young heirs of the Four Great Tribes of the Alliance.
"You are not permitted to fly within the Divine Hill," barked the Griff Templar Guard.
"Uncle Grith," muttered the young Griff heir, but the tension between them did not ease, as Grith stared daggers at the young Griff heir. The man named Grith wore more ornate armor than the others, signifying his elevated status. His stern gaze remained fixed on Adravth, unmoved by familiarity.
Just as things seemed to be escalating, a Dark Dwarf approached with several others—both Dark Dwarves and Hill Dwarves in tow. The leading Dark Dwarf raised his arm, and the Templar Guards bowed in perfect synchrony.
"Lord Zeni," Grith muttered as he lowered his head respectfully before the lead dwarf.
"Lord Zeni," echoed Adravth and Zorak simultaneously, bowing in turn, as the Dark Dwarf nodded in acknowledgment.
"Adravth, Zorak. Fancy seeing you here," came a familiar voice from behind Zeni—a young Dark Dwarf stepping forward as he spoke.
Just when Adravth thought the situation couldn't grow more complicated, he noticed Zorak looking past him.
A Beastman of the Turtle Clan was approaching the group.
******
The Temple of the Supreme Lord – The Omnipotent God;
The Divine Hill,
Abelion Hills;
New World;
"Lord Zeni, has there been any update?" muttered a Turtle Clan Beastman, his eyes fixed on the Temple's entrance.
"I'm afraid not," Zeni replied, his tone grim. "There's been no change to the Door since the tremor."
Though tensions had eased somewhat—thanks to Grith stepping down—the group of young heirs now found themselves deep within the Temple, before the Divine Door itself.
"So, the Divine Door suddenly released a burst of magic…" Adravth muttered, staring intently at the monumental structure before them.
"Yes, that's what we were told. And why are you repeating it over and over again?" said the young Dark Dwarf, glancing sideways at Adravth in mild irritation.
The three sat cross-legged on the temple floor, directly before the Divine Door. Around them, the Elders of the Council and other high-ranking figures of the Alliance had gathered, casting murmurs filled with anxiousness and uncertain glances toward the Divine Door.
"Well, easy for you to say," Adravth muttered, exhaling with tension. "I can already imagine the extra drills Uncle Grith is going to make me go through as punishment for violating the no-fly law."
His tone carried a mixture of dread and resignation. Though the situation was far from ordinary, both Zorak and Zenith couldn't help but chuckle softly at their friend's anxiety. Even amidst the unknown, some things remained comfortingly familiar.
It had almost been a day since Adravth and Zorak had flown into the Divine Hill, yet there had been no update on the situation or the phenomenon they had sensed earlier.
"Do you think it's the day of prophecy?" muttered Zenith, the young heir of the Dark Dwarves Tribe and a close friend of Adravth and Zorak.
Though both remained silent to their friend's question, the thought had crossed their minds as well. Having grown up under the shadow of the Divine Door, which had always remained closed, they had come to treat it as nothing more than a revered symbol of their Supreme God. It had been nearly two centuries since the last recorded instance of the Door opening.
To them, the only miracles associated with the Divine Door had been its healing aura and the powerful runes it recorded—runes so complex that even the dwarves had once struggled to inscribe or enchant a single one onto an item.
It seemed far-fetched to believe the Divine Door could actually open, or that it led to some divine domain, especially since all it had was a decorated wall behind and the temple built around it.
Yet, as they each silently pondered the reason behind the sudden burst of mana, their thoughts were shattered when the Divine Door, which had long been unmoving as a statue—emitted a radiant golden light. The light blinded their vision for a second, and the Divine Door finally opened.
******
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**The End**
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