My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind
Chapter 60: How To Level Up This Priest Class? Become A God!

Chapter 60: How To Level Up This Priest Class? Become A God!

Kivas, now properly clothed and bandaged where her wings had once been, sat with her back to a mossy log—the bandage being the very same material as her self-regenerating dress.

Her fingers tapped against the hilt of the Royal Valor, which had once again been soul-equipped to her. Its sheath hovered slightly off the ground beside her, the crystalline lattice softly orbiting like a protective halo of its own.

She stared into the firelight, half-serious and half-expectant.

"I want to level up my priest class," Kivas said plainly. "And I have a proposition."

From across the crackling divine flame, Samael tilted her head slowly, then reached behind herself with deliberate flair.

She pulled out a handmade sign carved into a thin plank of wood, a question mark burned into its surface.

"Yes?"

Kivas blinked. "What with the sign?"

Samael smiled faintly, resting her cheek on her knuckles as she propped the sign up beside her. "I just like seeing your face react when I do random stuff that you didn’t expect."

Kivas exhaled through her nose, her expression twisting into a half-wry smile. "You’re fishing for reactions now?"

"You want me to pursue my sadomasochism again?"

Kivas wryly cringed, as she reached out and flicked a nearby leaf with the tip of her sheath. "Fine, I don’t mind. Just make sure the reaction-mining never turns into something too harmful or too... wrong."

"No promises on the second one," Samael quipped. "But I’ll do my best."

With a flick of her wrist, Samael made the sign vanish into her spatial storage, then pulled out another one.

This one had a little wooden handle and was painted with the word "PROCEED?" in messy block letters.

"So what is your proposition?"

Kivas ignored it with visible effort. "So, I remember the design of the resonance catalyst from back in the first loop, the one made by Goliath, the resonance smith of the church in Solvish Keep...

"I remember the design—its shape, sigil pattern, and the way it shimmered in response to prayer. I was thinking we could recreate it."

Samael’s smile dropped slightly. She reached into her pocket dimension once again and produced a different sign, this time marked with a large, bold X.

"That’s an incredibly inefficient idea," Samael said, her tone even. "You can replicate the shape, the pattern, even the shimmer. But resonance catalysts aren’t about design. They’re about the soul of their creators and those who used it. Their understanding of faith. Their interpretation of what resonance means...

"Without that, it’s just a fancy paperweight."

Kivas nodded, gaze still firm. "I see. Copying the surface doesn’t replicate the meaning."

Samael set the sign aside. "Do you want an alternative?"

Kivas adjusted the sheath of Royal Valor, letting the crystals float up in a gentle spin. "I’m listening."

"You have a Remembrance skill," Samael said.

Kivas tilted her head. "Yes?"

Samael pointed at her with a sudden burst of enthusiasm, manifested as yet another sign. This one bore an arrow with the words "REMEMBER!"

Kivas squinted. "I can’t even forget."

Samael beamed. "Now, if I recall correctly, your Remembrance skill is tied to a deity, right? No need to name names."

Kivas leaned back, folding her arms. "Correct."

Samael snapped her fingers, eyes lighting up. "Then here’s the plan, just get prayers directed to that deity."

Kivas narrowed her eyes. "You want me to pray to the deity I’m literally embodying? So, like I’m praying to the deity but not exactly the deity, as in not me, or are you insinuating that I must pray to myself?"

"No," Samael corrected, lifting a finger with faux sophistication. "I meant prayers to be directed to that deity. You don’t need to pray. Others do."

Kivas raised a brow, slamming the side of her fist to her palm. "You’re saying I need worshipers?"

Samael gestured grandly. "Or just people who believe enough in the name, the aspect, the concept. Divine mechanics of Fathomi will do the rest. Not to mention, it might also be able to level up your remembrance skills, killing two beasts with one flick."

"You mean killing two birds with one stone?"

"Don’t correct my usage of idioms, I feel an attack on my wisdom and credibility."

Ignoring the last reply, Kivas’ expression faded into something more subdued. "Sounds good in theory. But you know how Fathomi is with gods, right? Won’t finding followers be hard since people will be on edge on whether the faith will manifest into an actual deity that must be killed?"

Samael’s grin dimmed, but didn’t vanish. "That only matters when the scenario actually happens. If there’re no foreign gods, devils, or anything faith-induced come to manifest, then all-is-ok," she said as she pulled up a sign with an ok-hand sign on it.

"Well then." Kivas shrugged with a carefree smile. "I guess changing my path from an agnostic priest to a proselytizer."

"Oh, also, one of my Divine Constructs encountered a Curio in their adventure." Samael said as she began to reach down to the entrance of her spatial storage."

"Right, since the constructs used the same Well of the Soul as you, your spatial storage is essentially the same one."

Samael pulled out an object wrapped in fine metal-thread cloth.

The shape was roughly octagonal, and once unwrapped, it revealed an ornate stone tablet etched with spiraling glyphs and miniature reliefs of seated figures kneeling toward a stylized stalk of grain.

The object hummed faintly with recognition.

Samael held it out with a nod. "This is the Curio item my Divine Constructs recovered earlier. Noble Tier. To put it simply, it lets you build a Minor Shrine."

Kivas turned the stone tablet over in her hands, her fingers tracing the etched reliefs. "Minor Shrine, huh," she echoed. "If there’s such a thing as a Minor Shrine, does that mean there’s a Major Shrine?"

Samael nodded without missing a beat and pulled out two wooden signs from her spatial storage, each etched with an ’O’. She raised them both high in tandem. "Right’o!"

"Of course you had those signs ready," Kivas murmured.

"Always prepared." Samael spun the signs once and made them vanish. "Minor Shrines are generally placed in wild areas—uncivilized, untamed, or transient locations. Forest paths, cliff overlooks, old ruins, you name it...

"The reason is, when a Minor Shrine resonates with a deity or figure of belief, it starts accumulating divinity. That accumulated energy influences the environment. Subtly. Slowly. Thus, it is more efficient when placed in a peaceful and less-chaotic place, but still have living beings’ presence in the environment."

Kivas tilted her head. "Influences the environment?"

"Not drastically, but enough to make changes," Samael said. "A little warmth where there shouldn’t be. A healing presence near the altar. Maybe food grows better nearby. Or beasts avoid the area. Or, a constant typhoon that reshapes the place constantly, depending on the deity."

"And a Major Shrine?"

"Major Shrines are the opposite in most regards. They require placement in a static, civilized area. They need caretakers to maintain their sanctity—cleansing rites, purification cycles, re-attunement practices. But they grant a far greater return in faith income and resonance. So it’s a trade."

Kivas turned the shrine over once more. "You’re talking like I’m the deity in question."

Samael’s lips curved. "You are."

Kivas finally realized it. "Oh."

"You have the Remembrance skill of a deity. You now embody that aspect. Prayers will be directed to that deity, and through that, they’ll be directed to you." Samael lifted another sign, this one a crude sketch of a divine figure with an arrow pointing to Kivas. "Divine Resonance."

Kivas groaned softly and stared up at the canopy. "So I’m leveling up my priest class by becoming the god I technically remember?"

"Exactly. A feedback loop of sanctity." Samael held up her last sign, "EFFICIENT!"

Kivas stood up, sliding Royal Valor’s sheath to her back as the crystals reconfigured into passive orbit. "Well then. What are we waiting for? Let’s build the thing."

"You mean, plant the thing."

"Wha—whatever. Sure, let’s plant that thing."

The two of them set out under the rising moon, weaving through trees and fog, pausing occasionally as one of the Divine Constructs relayed notes or warnings, since they were not in the mood for hunting on this occasion.

Kivas held the shrine component close to her chest as they climbed a hill, then descended into a clearing shaped by decades of wilderness encroachment, following Samael who guided her.

And there it was.

A massive turtle-shaped creature slumbered within the clearing.

Its shell was layered like jagged copper, iron, and stone fused together by pressure and age. Blackened tree roots curled around one of its legs. Its head, shaped more like a wedge of stone than anything biological, stared forward without expression.

It did not so much as glance at them.

Kivas lowered her voice. "You’re not going to say it, are you?"

"I’m absolutely going to say it," Samael replied without hesitation. "We’re putting the shrine on that turtle’s back."

Kivas looked again at the still-massive beast. "That’s not a place. That’s a living and breathing entity."

Samael took a step forward and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Yoiglah!"

The turtle didn’t respond.

"YOIGLAH, YOU SLUMBERING BOULDER, I SWEAR TO THE CORE I WILL TEAR YOU ASUNDER TILL NOTHING OF YOURS EXIST IN THIS PLACE OF EXISTENCE IF YOU IGNORE ME A SECOND LONGER."

The turtle’s massive eye rolled sideways with agonizing slowness. A voice—deep, ancient, and annoyingly mellow—rumbled through the ground like a low drumroll.

"I know that tone. That willpower. That complete lack of courtesy."

"That went rather well." Kivas leaned toward Samael. "You know this massive turtle? Don’t tell me that it is one of your servants."

Samael crossed her arms. "Former comrade. We fought together in a brutal, and crucial war, many years ago."

Yoiglah yawned without opening his mouth. "Former servant, you mean."

"You were never my servant," Samael replied flatly. "I thought of you as an equal."

Yoiglah exhaled. The breath pushed mist across the forest floor. "You thought of me as an equal until you acquired an absurd amount of power five years after, and then suddenly I was running errands for you."

Kivas raised her brows. "That sounds less like camaraderie and more like coercion."

Samael shrugged. "I might’ve threatened him a few times."

Yoiglah groaned. "She told me if I didn’t comply, she’d crush my carapace, bury me in magma, and stitch me to a mountain."

Kivas blinked. "Yeah, that’s definitely worse. No wonder why you identify her immediately after she threatens you."

"Still." Yoiglah turned his head a little further toward them. "What do you want this time, Eternal Menace?"

Samael took a confident step forward. "We will establish a shrine."

Yoiglah’s eyes narrowed. "On what, precisely?"

Samael raised her hand and pointed at him. "On your back, planted deep into your core of existence, flesh and bones."

Kivas winced. "That didn’t sound like a request."

Yoiglah could only let out a long, gravel-filled sigh.