On the morning of September 20th, just ten days before Allen's 17th birthday.

Allen, along with the Great Spirit God Ysray, the Bountiful God Molmol, the Beast God Gilan, his companions, Abigail, and his summoned beasts, teleported to the wasteland of the Primordial Beast Garden using the awakened skill "Homing Instinct."

(Finally, the wait is over. Didn't expect to be tied up until after the Memorial Ceremony.)

After the celebration for the birth of the First Angel Homar, the Sky King had roped them into helping soothe the infant, delaying their departure until the day after the ceremony.

Nearly a hundred beastmen leaders, including Alvahar, had gathered—though this was neither the temple of the Beast God Galm nor Alvahar's ancestral village.

Before them stretched a vast, barren land devoid of villages, fortresses, or vegetation. The cracked, parched earth bore no trace of the rampant spirit beasts, already hunted down by the dragonkin and beastmen.

This was the location Allen had immediately thought of when the Great Spirit God mentioned the "Dew of Life" and the "Spring of Life." During their conquest of the Earth Labyrinth, he had sent his avian summons to prepare nests here in anticipation of this moment.

[...]

Even Alvahar, the revered founder of the Alvahar Beast Kingdom, stood silent in deference to the gods. Two of the ten known higher deities were present.

The Beast God Galm's conflict with the Creator God Elmea was said to have occurred nearly a million years ago. Though no longer enemies, their relationship remained ambiguous—prompting Gilan to keep both higher gods within his line of sight at all times.

Meanwhile, Molmol strolled leisurely across the cracked basin as if it were his own garden.

"Hoho, what a bleak place. So this is where we'll build the reservoir for the Dew of Life?"

The Bountiful God's mutterings ignored Gilan's wary gaze, his attention fixed on the bowl-like depression—likely the remnants of an ancient meteor crater.

Though now barren, this land had once held a massive lake. Allen's party had passed through during their labyrinth conquest, noting the dried riverbeds and fissures.

"Ah, repurposing the old lake... The divine domain of the Fish God Mingia, correct?"

"Exactly. It's far enough from beastmen settlements to be safe."

As Allen explained, the Great Spirit God glanced skyward.

"They're waiting, Lord Desperado. Let us begin promptly."

"Understood, Lord Ysray."

At Gilan's words, the Time-Space God Desperado materialized midair.

"Lord Desperado, thank you for your assistance."

"Think nothing of it, Guide of the Elves. This falls within my purview."

His polite, humble demeanor was essential for the task at hand.

(We need to transport the Dew of Life safely.)

The concentrated essence of life was lethal to mortals—flesh would dissolve upon contact. The lakebed, comparable in size to Victoria Lake from Allen's past life, had once been the domain of Mingia, a subordinate of the Light God Amante.

According to the Great Spirit God, filling this basin with the Dew of Life wouldn't green the entire Primordial Beast Garden, but it could enrich a thousand-kilometer radius for over ten millennia.

To transport the hazardous substance safely, they'd enlisted Desperado's aid through Ysray.

"Then let us begin. Haaah!"

The floating deity extended his arms, channeling divine power.

Whoosh—

A massive magic circle flared high above, and a glittering cascade of Dew of Life began pouring into the basin.

(He must have drawn another circle at the lake's bottom to teleport it here. Only divine energy can move the Dew, since it absorbs both spiritual and magical power... But how long will this take?)

The thunderous deluge spread across the parched lakebed, yet the volume seemed insufficient to fill the vast crater.

It was like trying to fill a bathtub with a trickle—at this rate, it might take weeks. Just as Allen opened his mouth to speak, the Great Spirit God voiced the same concern.

"My apologies, Lord Desperado. The Spring of Life has ample reserves. Could you increase the transfer speed?"

"Strange... I'm exerting full power, but something's interfering with my divine energy."

"An issue?"

"Nothing critical. Perhaps Cecil's rampage in my domain is causing feedback? The spacetime management system shouldn't be affected, but... Give me a moment. I'll adjust it directly."

(Cecil's causing havoc? Glad he's taking his trial seriously.)

Allen nodded, accepting the explanation. He'd instructed Cecil to maximize skill gains in Extra Mode.

Desperado vanished, leaving the shimmering waterfall unattended as he teleported to the spacetime management system—a hexagonal structure formed by stacked pyramids.

"Trouble with the system? Did something happen?" Sophie pressed a hand to her chest, worried.

"Always the worrier, Sophie. Hm? The flow's intensifying."

The trickle erupted into a roaring cascade, Niagara-like in volume, rapidly filling the basin.

(Desperado must be pushing the teleportation system to its limits. It's more than just spacetime regulation.)

The Time-Space God governed the flow of time across the mortal, divine, and dark realms.

"Alright, Pektan. Bring out the Worldseed."

"Purupuu? Nnnngh!"

Plop.

Allen summoned Pektan, activating the once-monthly awakened skill "Divine Seed Genesis." The creature squatted, straining.

(Zero dignity in this process.)

What emerged was a baseball-sized pit resembling a pickled plum seed. Allen scooped it up, gauging his throwing skills.

"Rraaahhh! Take my ultimate pitch!!"

The seed rocketed into the waterfall's plunge pool, sinking into the Dew of Life.

Pop. Crack.

It sprouted underwater, roots and trunk surging upward with alarming speed. Though World Tree seeds wouldn't grow if planted normally in the mortal world, here they thrived in the life-saturated Dew.

"Figures. World Trees flourish in the Dew of Life."

"...Another World Tree sprouts. I should note we lack Elmea's permission for this, Allen. You're playing with fire."

Allen had decided to use the Dew as fertilizer. Once fully grown, the tree would transform this wasteland.

"The Garden of Spirits gains a reservoir for excess Dew. The beastmen who toiled here receive divine rewards. I'm honored to assist."

"*Sigh*."

Though exasperated, the Great Spirit God didn't object—their agreement held.

"Lord Gilan, if you have energy to spare, please empower the tree."

Allen knew divine infusion accelerated growth from Pektan's evolution.

"This old body has limits, but for the beastmen, I'll contribute what I can."

As the gods worked, murmurs spread among the beastmen elders. They'd been briefed beforehand, their anticipation for the land's renewal palpable.

"Hoho. I'll borrow some of this bounty myself."

(Here it comes. He had an agenda after all.)

"Lord Molmol? Is something amiss?"

Though Allen and Ysray had scripted the ceremony, Molmol's presence was unplanned. Gilan tensed, tracking the Bountiful God's movements.

"Merely pitying the beastmen. With the Beast Gods' limited power, growing the World Tree would take ages. Behold—Bountiful Burst!"

Molmol hopped playfully, tapping a rapid rhythm with one foot before thrusting a palm toward the reservoir.

Crackle. Pop.

Trees erupted around the basin, their branches intertwining to form a barrier. Five-meter-tall trunks bore lush foliage and familiar molmo fruits—a staple of Allen's childhood.

Beyond, the Bountiful God's power rippled across the horizon, transforming cracked earth into sprawling grasslands.

"Magnificent!"

"Such blessings... Thank you!"

"Fruits! And these vines—whoa! The ground's packed with potatoes!"

"Hoho. Offer prayers, and they'll bear fruit anew next year. But heed this—the reservoir beyond these trees is lethal. I've planted tall timber as a barrier. Stay clear."

(Ysray manages the Dew, Desperado transports it, and Molmol reaps the beastmen's faith—a textbook case of profiting from others' labor. But the beastmen are overjoyed, and the food surplus is his doing. He even warned about the Dew's dangers. Can't complain.)

Allen had gathered the leaders to explain the reservoir's risks. Molmol's spontaneous demonstration served as a vivid cautionary tale.

"My work here is done. Farewell."

With that, the Bountiful God vanished.

"Let me reiterate the details."

As the Dew continued cascading into the molmo-fringed basin, Allen addressed the beastmen.

"So it's unsafe for habitation?"

"We'll inform our people."

"Especially foragers."

Nods all around. Then Alvahar approached.

"Seems I owe you thanks, Allen. Your consideration is noted."

Before Allen could respond—

A magic circle materialized overhead.

"Ah, Lord Desperado, thank you for—Lady Lupt?!"

(Alone? What's this about?)

Instead of the Time-Space God, the First Angel Lupt descended, her usual trio of archangels absent. Her panicked expression sent tension rippling through the group.

"Allen! The Demon King's army has invaded the divine realm! Move, now!"

"What?!"

The shout left Allen reeling. The unthinkable had happened.