Power
Galen, momentarily lost in a daydream, mused: Since I've already time-traveled, why couldn't I have just reincarnated as a Titan World-Soul? That would've been the ultimate shortcut! Way less paperwork.
A minute later, Galen reluctantly canceled his "pay-to-win" attempt. In just sixty seconds of wielding pure, unadulterated divine power, he watched the resource counter of his Heart of Origin plummet at a terrifying, tear-inducing rate. The final tally? Three skills had consumed a staggering eighty million units of gold—nearly a small fortune!
Yet, Galen felt no remorse. On the contrary, it was worth every single, pixelated penny. Through those three fleeting uses of divine power, he had touched upon the very fabric of the Law itself.
"Congratulations, Host. You have obtained the essence of the Law of Life. The Life Primordial Force within the Heart of Origin has been activated!"
In his mind's eye, the humble green light representing the Heart of Origin twisted and transformed, eventually solidifying into an intricate, pulsating emerald hexagram. The upper-left corner of the hexagram blazed brightest, a beacon of pure, raw energy.
Galen's entire body shuddered violently. He remembered—before his transmigration, he had once stumbled upon some obscure forum thread discussing the Six Primordial Forces. The position of the Life Primordial Force, if his dusty memory served, was indeed the upper-left corner!
The runic array spun wildly in his mind, its vibrant energy gradually radiating throughout his entire being. At this moment, Galen's physical form began to shift, to glow, resembling the ethereal, starlight body of Algalon the Observer—except his celestial radiance was a furious, vibrant green.
Pop!
A sound like a cosmic barrier shattering exploded in his ears, a pressure wave that vibrated through his very soul. The next instant, an overwhelming, frankly rude, surge of power flooded his body. Galen felt like his flesh was swelling to the point of bursting, like an overinflated balloon filled with divine energy.
Acting on pure, desperate instinct, he released the compression on his physical form. His originally two-meter-tall body expanded, stretching into the six-meter-tall, imposing frame of a Vrykul.
Not enough…
The energy was too much. His body, his very essence, was on the verge of simply exploding into a shower of green sparkles!
GROW BIGGER!
Agony scrambled his thoughts, but in his desperation, a primal solution dawned on him. The body was merely a vessel for energy. His current pathetic form couldn't even hold one-tenth of the Life Primordial Force he'd just absorbed.
The only way? Become larger. Much, much larger. As large as the Titans themselves.
Ten meters… twenty meters… sixty meters… a hundred meters!
Still not enough! The glow was still too bright!
One hundred and fifty meters!
This height already dwarfed the largest Ultraman giants from his past life's hazy memories.
Finally, Galen's growth stabilized at a truly absurd four hundred meters. His body had undergone a complete, divine metamorphosis.
A colossal frame. A shimmering, metallic body. Surging Life Energy radiating from every pore.
At this moment, Galen—both in flesh and in soul—had ascended. Truly. Across the entire planet of Draenor, every living being, from the humblest grubs to the mightiest gronn, erupted into cheers of pure, unadulterated exultation.
A true god had been born.
If achieving demigodhood had reverted him to a Stone Vrykul, then now, as a fledgling True God, he had leaped from Titan-forged to a full-fledged Bronze Titan!
In the distance, from the imposing Hellfire Citadel, the bustling Shattrath City, and the jagged Spires of Arak, entire swarms of bewildered people began rushing toward Galen's location. The commotion was far too great. A four-hundred-meter-tall giant standing in the open, radiating divine green light, was impossible to miss, even for the most dim-witted ogre.
Medivh and Khadgar, ever the quick ones, arrived first via instantaneous teleportation. Only upon arrival did they realize—this glowing, mountainous colossus was their Grand Marshal. A wave of profound, shuddering relief washed over them.
As long as it wasn't Sargeras himself…
Medivh, with a phantom hand, wiped non-existent sweat from his brow. He had mentally prepared for death on the way here, fully expecting to meet a gruesome, demonic end.
The third to arrive, huffing and puffing, was Velen. The aged Prophet had been quietly recuperating on Azeroth when he received the frantic emergency summons. Without a moment's delay, he'd stumbled through the portal back to Draenor and sprinted here, nearly shaking his old bones apart.
"This is…" Velen squinted upward, his ancient eyes widening with disbelief. "Galen?"
"Yes. The Grand Marshal has… experienced a breaktrough," Medivh replied, a slight tremor in his voice, gesturing for Khadgar to support the exhausted Prophet before he collapsed.
"A breakthrough? The Divine Realm!" Velen murmured, his voice laced with awe, tears welling in his eyes. "Praise the Light's eternal guidance. Choosing to ally with Galen was, without a shadow of a doubt, the wisest decision of my entire, twenty-thousand-year life."
Soon, the rest of the forces arrived—hordes of orcs, pious draenei, proud arakkoa, feral saberon, brutish ogres—all the myriad races of Draenor gazed up at Galen, their hearts swelling with an indescribable mix of awe, inspiration, and perhaps a tiny bit of fear that they might be accidentally squashed.
Words failed them. The only thought burning brightly in their collective minds was to offer this nascent god a glorious, bloody victory.
After what felt like an eternity, a period of silent, cosmic contemplation, Galen finally opened his eyes. His gaze, now vast and all-encompassing, swept over the assembled crowd, a literal tidal wave of pure energy.
Velen felt an oppressive, almost crushing weight press down on him. The twenty-thousand-year-old Light Demigod, without a second's hesitation, bowed his head in utter reverence.
Medivh and Khadgar, the greatest sorcerers of their age, dropped to one knee, staffs in hand. Behind them, every single soldier of the Draenor Alliance, from the mightiest gronn to the smallest peon, followed suit, a wave of sudden, unified submission.
Wherever his gaze passed, all races, all creatures, submitted.
"Prepare for war," Galen's voice thundered, a sound that vibrated through the very bedrock of the planet. "Our target: Argus."
"PREPARE FOR WAR! PREPARE FOR WAR!"
"VICTORY! VICTORY!"
Amid the draenei-led cheers, a cacophony of shouts, and a general sense of impending doom for his enemies, Galen simply vanished, leaving behind only the lingering scent of divine ozone.
On his way back to Azeroth from Draenor, he repeatedly attempted to compress his new, godly energy and shrink back to human size.
Yet, he failed. Spectacularly.
At best, he managed to reduce himself to a mere hundred meters tall.
"Tch…" Galen grimaced, a monumental frown on his colossal face. "This is troublesome. Further compression requires deeper comprehension of the Law of Life. Even if I summoned Eonar herself to give me lessons, it'd take too long…"
This breakthrough had been utterly unexpected, leaving him hilariously unprepared for civilian life.
"If I want to walk among mortals again," he muttered, "I'll have to rely on avatars."
With that thought, he summoned his earliest incarnation—Galen Remar. This alter ego had been crafted from Galen's psychic energy mixed with Freya's gift of Life Energy, possessing only early-stage demigod strength.
Galen, full of newfound confidence, attempted to split off a fragment of his freshly minted divine soul and merge it into Galen Remar's mind.
Pop!
Galen Remar's head, with a sad, pathetic little splatter, exploded.
The backlash of psychic energy felt less like a wave and more like a massive, divine slap to Galen's forehead.
"..."
Silence. The only sound was the distant chirping of some particularly unconcerned Draenor crickets.
"..."
"Wrong order," Galen mumbled, a single, exasperated sigh escaping his four-hundred-meter frame.
Of course. An early-stage demigod body couldn't withstand a True God's soul. He needed to infuse Life Energy first, elevating it to peak demigod level, then fuse the soul.
"Forget it. My power and techniques have evolved. It's time for Galen Remar 2.0. And 3.0."
With both hands outstretched, he began condensing Life Energy anew.
A night elf body and a human body rapidly took shape, shimmering with nascent power.
Avatars—complete. And hopefully, less prone to head-sploding.