Stage Six: This stage is not for the summoner but for the beast king. The accumulation of power, knowledge and experience channeled through their champion allows the beast king to transcend the Fifth Stage and finally ascend to the Sixth Stage, this stage is still not yet clear and that is something that can only be shaped by the beast king and it's summoner.

The godlings listened as Krogan spoke, the lighted images of his system still drifting like embers in the air. Their initial dread had eased; now a new, sharper question sat between them: what did Krogan himself stand to gain?

Kael, king of the Harpies, did not hesitate "What is it you gain from this? How does this system serve you in your path to godhood?"

Krogan's expression did not change. He answered plainly, "I do not mean to fight the gods for worship. This is not a bid for altars and priests. The Summoner System is centered on me because belief even a small thread of belief, is what binds the pact. Through me the contract is sealed."

He leaned closer, gaze level "Every step requires my presence. Every bond, each invocation, is a form of prayer, not to a temple, but to me. I do not demand temples or statues. I demand acknowledgment when a summoner calls. That is enough."

Raina, the mermaid queen asked. "And the beasts?" she pressed. "Do you take them from their homes? Are they forced?" "Also how do you guarantee each summoner would get a beast of their own, does your real have the capacity to uphold that?"

Krogan gave a short, resigned laugh "No. The beasts that are summoned are to be from my realm, i can't control what happens beyond that. That is why I asked for your help, to encourage Beast Kings and their progeny to come here, to be part of the menagerie. Their joining will enrich my realm and allow summoners to draw from that pool."

He let the statement hang a moment, then added "I will not coerce. The call must be answered willingly. But the realm must be theirs to come to, and mine to hold."

There was a brief silence after Krogan's words. Behind their composed projections, the godlings shifted to another line of communication, one shielded from Krogan's ears. The decision between them came quickly.

Nothing would be gained from standing in Krogan's path. To make an enemy of one already stepping toward godhood would be folly.

Their earlier hesitation had come from ignorance, from not knowing what Krogan truly intended, or what change his path heralded. Now the picture was clearer. His cryptic warning about their world shifting was not an empty boast, but something the godlings were expecting with the absence of two origin gods.

They saw no need to doubt his word. If anything, there was much to be learned from him. He was only the second demon in recorded history to stand in good terms with the godlings, and unlike others of his kind, Krogan's beastkin shared traits that mirrored their own races. That familiarity was not lost on them, it was, in fact, quietly appreciated.

Krogan was patient while the gods spoke among themselves, his eyes steady, unblinking. He did not press, did not interrupt. He waited.

At last, Zephyr's projection inclined forward. His voice carried the calm weight of consensus. "Lord Krogan, first, we would like to apologize if we came off as threatening or condescending in our earlier talks."

A pause, then he continued "After a brief discussion amongst ourselves, we have decided to open our lands to your men and your people. In addition, our druids shall lend their aid in your quest to gather beast kings. It would bring them the greatest delight, knowing there is one such as you who shares their reverence for beast and beast kind."

Zephyr's form dipped in a slight bow, a gesture mirrored faintly by a few of the others "With that, we wish you a successful ascension."

Krogan regarded the bowed projections in silence for a heartbeat longer than usual. His expression softened, though his presence remained as commanding as ever.

"Your words honor me," he said at last, his tone formal, deliberate. "I had expected resistance, perhaps even enmity. To be met instead with humility and open hands… this I did not foresee. For that, you have my respect."

He inclined his head slightly, a gesture rarely given, but one that carried weight coming from him "Know this: I do not take your trust lightly. The opening of your borders, the guidance of your druids, the blessing of your peoples, these are not small gifts. I shall receive them with gratitude, and I will ensure they bear fruit not only for my realm, but for the balance of the world we all share."

Krogan's eyes swept across each of the six monarchs in turn, firm but steady. "Should my path reach its end, and ascension be mine, I will remember who stood in opposition, and who stood in accord. You have chosen wisely, and in that choice, you will find me a friend rather than a rival."

There was the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"For now, let us walk forward together. May this be the beginning of a bond that endures."

Days after the agreement was reached, the Krogan people and their generals no longer hid themselves from the public eye. Empowered by the promise of the godlings, they now openly roamed the land, seeking out magical beasts to join their cause. For the first time in generations, their strength and ambition could be displayed without fear of reprisal.

Strange figures appeared, beastkin, men and women with the forms of animals woven into their flesh. Some bore wolfish ears and tails, others feathered wings sprouting from their backs, or scales that shimmered like living armor. Their sudden appearance sent ripples of shock across the kingdoms. Many wondered if this was the birth of another godling race, a new divine creation stepping into the world.

Yet as the days passed and more beastkin appeared, diverse in shape and nature, it became clear they were something different, neither human, nor godling, nor beast. A new people, stepping boldly into history.

The silence of the godlings was deafening. No proclamations, no denials, no explanations. To most human kingdoms, this lack of reaction was interpreted as tacit approval, perhaps even a hidden arrangement. With that in mind, many nations hastened to open their gates to the beastkin, greeting them with cautious smiles and eager curiosity. Envoys scrambled to make contact, scholars sought to document their origins, and rulers whispered of alliances. If the godlings accepted their presence, then surely it was safer to welcome than resist.

But the same could not be said for the great kingdoms, the crowned powers that sat atop each continent. To them, the beastkin's arrival was nothing short of an insult. The thought that the godlings had known of this people, perhaps had even struck an agreement with them, and yet had not informed the highest thrones of the world, stung deeply.

They were no fools. Their spies and councils quickly pieced together the truth: the godlings had simply chosen to bypass them, to treat them as inconsequential children unworthy of explanation. It was a slight that cut sharper than any sword. For centuries, these kingdoms had borne the weight of leadership, had claimed dominion over lands, peoples, and histories. And yet the godlings, immortal, aloof, and ever dismissive continued to overlook them, as though the crowns of men were no more than toys.

Thus, beneath the polite veneer of diplomacy, resentment festered. The appearance of the beastkin became not merely a political shift, but a symbol of humiliation. The animosity that humans already harbored toward the godlings deepened, an old wound torn open once more.

For the common folk, the beastkin were a curiosity, perhaps even a welcome addition. For kings and emperors, however, their sudden emergence was a bitter reminder of humanity's place in the eyes of the divine: not equals, but children, forever expected to obey without question.

And such bitterness, once seeded, was not easily uprooted.

The impact of the beastkin's emergence showed itself most clearly in the eastern continent, within the Omadi Kingdom. Months had passed since the envoy from the southern continent had arrived in the court of Nwadiebube and his people. Their presence was no mere gesture of diplomacy, every word, every gift, every act made it clear that they had come with purpose, with a goal they meant to press upon him.

Yet Nwadiebube resisted. He listened, but only with half an ear. The southern continent's offer was tempting, too tempting. He feared that should he fully entertain their vision, he would commit too quickly, without the patience his plans demanded. Already, he was trying to mend the frayed alliance with Björn's kingdom in the north. If that alliance could be restored, if Björn's hand was once again at his side, then Omadi could move forward with strength and certainty. To bind himself too hastily to another foreign power risked undermining all of that.

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