Although these six leaders of Zambesi lacked sufficient spirituality to become Extraordinaries, there was no denying the enormous contributions they had made.
They had overcome all opposition to persuade their people to worship Eris, the Dark Lord. Without their prayers, Bruce would never have had the chance to steal the Dark Lord's identity.
So, as the Dark Lord, Bruce ought to reward them.
Since they could not become Extraordinaries, Bruce would use magic to grant them power. This had been one of his alternative ways of bestowing blessings all along.
As the leaders of the black-robed worshippers of the Dark Lord, how could they have no extraordinary abilities at all?
Once they had some power, they could help protect Zambesi while also strengthening their authority and influence there, consolidating their rule.
Although the Dark Bible primarily contained evil magic, with countless spells involving poison, plague, corrosion, incitement, control, and more, it also offered some enhancement runes, though these were hardly conventional enhancements.
Bruce chose the same relatively powerful magic rune for all of them, one called "Roaring Flame Chariot."
It burned the power of hatred within the body, enveloping the caster in flames and granting the ability to control fire.
This magic required hatred as fuel.
The people of Zambesi had no shortage of hatred: hatred of oppression, hatred born of their kingdom's near destruction, hatred of scraping out an existence underground without ever seeing daylight. They held far too much hatred for the invaders, making "Roaring Flame Chariot" perfectly suited to them.
Every person in Zambesi could have the "Roaring Flame Chariot" spell implanted in them and gain extraordinary power. An entire kingdom of people wreathed in flame would undoubtedly be a terrifying force.
But Bruce did not do that. He chose only these six leaders.
The power produced by "Roaring Flame Chariot" came from the hatred in their hearts. Bruce was the spellcaster, and nothing more. No connection could form between them, nor could he control these people of flame. They were entirely different from Believers.
More importantly, creating large numbers of people of flame through magic would inevitably draw in other mysterious beings. Attracting the attention of other gods would be extremely troublesome, especially since he knew for certain that Eris's divine enemy was the Goddess of the Night.
The power he could wield through Eris's body was not particularly strong. Bruce had made a rough estimate, but if the Goddess of the Night noticed and attacked him, his chances of successfully resisting would be negligible, even if he spared no cost.
It might even expose his true identity.
Amid this treacherous situation, Bruce could only expand his forces a little at a time. He had no desire to expose himself, even if Zambesi remained his only source of worshippers. No wonder the worshippers of those evil gods only carried out small schemes in secret. Perhaps they, too, feared discovery.
If I had taken the identity of a righteous god, I wouldn't have to be so cautious. I could openly gather worshippers. Uh, would a weak righteous god get targeted and devoured by an evil god?
Bruce shook his head and cast those hypotheticals aside. He would bestow the blessings first.
The six leaders of Zambesi suppressed their joy as they walked to the foot of the steps. They had all witnessed the changes in the twelve favored ones, and not one of them lacked a desire for such abilities.
When they had initially found themselves excluded from the twelve favored ones, they had been deeply disappointed. Now, however, it seemed the great Dark Lord had not forgotten them.
"Present the backs of your hands to me."
The six leaders immediately exposed the backs of their hands. Six black threads extended down from the lofty divine throne, carving into their skin like tiny knives. Blood flowed freely, and a prickling pain assaulted their minds, but what was a little pain compared with the power a god would grant them?
The runes were completed.
The bleeding stopped immediately, but a moment later, it felt as though blazing lava had been poured over the backs of their hands. Their skin burned, turning red and hot. At last, they could no longer endure it. This pain pierced their very bones, far beyond what ordinary people could bear, and they began to scream. At the same time, flames rose from the backs of their hands, engulfing their bodies little by little. Amaya nearly thought something had gone wrong when she saw this, but the other black-robed figures watched with nothing but envy, showing no concern about any danger. Her heart sank.
The cries of pain gradually ceased as the six leaders began to adapt to the power erupting within them. Fierce flames burned over their bodies, yet they no longer felt any searing pain. Instead, they felt an unprecedented abundance of physical strength. They even floated into the air amid the burning flames.
The flames receded, and they landed back on the ground. Their black robes had not burned away and remained perfectly intact, as though the fire had been an illusion.
"Thank you, our Lord."
The six leaders prostrated themselves and loudly sang his praises.
Bruce nodded slightly. The blessings were now complete, and what happened next in Zambesi would depend on their own fortunes. Six people of flame and twelve Believers were not a powerful force, but no invader would want to sacrifice their own interests for a barren land.
There was also Amaya, who possessed the strength of three beasts.
Bruce had already noticed Amaya inside the palace. She was much calmer at this meeting. Although she still showed no respect for him as a god, Bruce did not mind.
Born in Zambesi, Amaya loved it deeply. Although she believed that Zambesi's worship of the Dark Lord was wrong, she would not abandon the kingdom in its time of turmoil. She would surely fight for its freedom until her final breath.
Zambesi was the only place that worshipped him. Its population might be small, but he could use it to gain more worshippers. Although Zambesi was weak, it was still a kingdom. And any kingdom on this turbulent, violence-ridden Western Continent could invade and gradually swallow up its neighbors.
"Invasion..."
Bruce loathed that word. He understood the agony of being invaded, the countless sacrifices and tragedies. Even if these people were not his own, he could still empathize with them.
Do not do unto others what you would not want done unto you.
"Peaceful assimilation, then. Offer them protection first, and then change their faith..."
Bruce adjusted his mindset slightly.
He wanted to gain worshippers through gentle means, but all that lay in the future. First, Zambesi had to ensure its own survival.
Bruce could already feel that it was time to leave.
Before leaving, Bruce wanted to offer a few additional words of warning, hoping they would refrain from unjust acts and avoid spreading his name. But considering that speaking too much would undermine his divine image, he decided to say nothing.
"I shall depart. Conduct yourselves wisely!"
He would let them decide Zambesi's fate for themselves.
The scepter struck the ground heavily, unleashing Divine Might, and dazzling light filled the palace.
The black-robed figures bowed low. After a tremendous boom, they raised their heads to find that the god's figure had vanished from the divine throne.
Looking at the six leaders who wielded the power of flame and the twelve favored ones of their god, the black-robed figures felt their hearts swell with fervor. They began shouting throughout the palace, their voices surging like a tide!
"It's time to resist! For freedom!"
"Mobilize everyone! Arm us! Take back our land!"
"Zambesi forever!"
"Zambesi forever!"
Watching the scene before her, Amaya's eyes grew damp. It seemed that the vibrant Zambesi of old had returned. Clutching the Ruby at her chest, she looked toward the empty divine throne and suddenly felt that this Dark Lord seemed a little like a righteous god.
"Zambesi forever!"