[Karma total: 1,048. You now have enough to send an oracle to your chosen paladin.]
The system informed him.
Fenrir didn't respond right away.
He stood atop his floating platform of black stone, surrounded by the vast nothingness of the divine veil, watching the world below through countless translucent lenses.
Each one showed him a fragment—rivers flowing, cities growing, fires burning in hearths, prayers whispered in temple corners.
And among them, one image remained still: a lone armored man sitting in meditation before an altar carved with names of the dead.
Elden.
Still so human, and yet unknowingly the center of a storm that threatened to divide Fenrir's growing world.
A man who rejected worship, yet inspired it. A man who could kneel for the dead but refused to bow to power.
"I want him. Not as a tool—but as my voice. If he walks my path willingly, it'll shape a faith no sword could force."
Fenrir muttered.
He raised his hand.
"Send the oracle."
He ordered.
