The three brothers exchanged glances before locking eyes with Orion.
"Brother, you pack the hardest punch right now. You make the call," Leonidas said. He had already bounced back from the mander’s brutal reality check, offering Orion a cheeky grin.
"I have the power, and I don’t fear the Great Dragon King of Light. But I’m trapped in the Titanion Realm," Orion said, settling back beside the mander. The dancing flames mirrored in his deep, calculating eyes. "We don’t have the luxury of an all-out war. The only play left is an alliance."
"Find him. Open negotiations. Offer him the right to claim territory on the continent of Titan. With his vast reserves, he will eventually hit the demigod sixth stage. He deserves a seat at the table to vie for the Divine Mantle."
It was a flawless strategy. Bribing a bitter rival with prime territory and a shot at the Divine Mantle. Orion knew Mondusath’s greed. The Great Dragon King of Light would never ignore a path to a Divine Mantle. To any powerhouse at or above the level of a Demigod Artifact, the Mantle was the holy grail of ascension—an irresistible lure.
"What if he declines?" Leonidas asked.
The question proved he still couldn’t prehend the magnetic pull a Divine Mantle held for a true demigod. Orion didn’t bother explaining. You couldn’t grasp that desperation until you reached the peak.
"He won’t," Orion stated flatly. "Track him down and give him the coordinates to the Titanion Realm. Invite him to Titan. I will negotiate with him myself."
Orion glanced at Deputy mander Edward. None of the other brothers had the sheer bat power to intimidate the Dragon King. Since the mander was off the board, Orion had to step up.
More importantly, Orion wanted Mondusath to physically feel the overwhelming pressure of the Ascendant Plane. He needed the Dragon King to sense the allied demigods entrenched on Titan—specifically supreme heavyweights like Kaidric and Morando, the Vice Chairman of the Saint Gran Council. Finally, Mondusath needed to face Orion. Armed with his Demigod Artifact, Orion projected the lethality of a sixth stage powerhouse.
It was a calculated flex of pure dominance, masked as a sincere invitation.
"It’s a solid strategy," Edward said, his eyes gleaming. He studied Orion, deeply impressed. "If this works, we could even use Mondusath as a blade to persuade—or purge—the rogue demigods in The Sunward Reach and The Continent of Chaos."
"Agreed," Arthas chimed in, nodding in approval.
Not too long ago, Orion had been a rookie begging for backup from his undead legions. Now, he was a seasoned warlord, weaving politics and raw power into a masterful web.
"Then the plan is set."
The mander sealed Witch’s frozen coffin away. The brothers exchanged silent nods and dispersed. Alexander walked away with a slumped posture, his silhouette heavy with unresolved grief.
"Let him process it," Leonidas muttered, stepping beside Orion. His voice was grim. Watching Clown and Witch erased so effortlessly had shaken him to his core.
Once Leonidas departed, Arthas snapped from his reverie and turned to Orion.
"Care to hear our history?"
Orion shook his head, catching Arthas off guard.
"No need. It’s buried in the past, and those two have paid their dues." Orion could detect a faint undercurrent of mourning in the necromancer’s voice.
"We Survivors are born with rigged odds," Arthas mused. "The more talented we are, the closer we dance with the abyss. Our trump cards let us cheat death, so we start believing our own myth. We survive. We grow arrogant. We get placent. And placency is what finally kills us."
Orion memorized the words. These weren’t empty platitudes; they were lessons carved in blood.
"Long ago, Clown and Witch weren’t the monsters you saw. They were..." Arthas trailed off, shaking his head. "Never mind. If you ever have a moment, keep an eye on the Survivor’s Platform. Watch the new blood. You’ll learn a lot from their mistakes."
With a final clap on Orion’s shoulder, Arthas tore a rift in space and stepped through, returning to the Ever-Burning Volcano. Arthas genuinely hoped his insights would help Orion temper his spirit and fill in the cracks of his rapid rise.
Orion watched the spatial rift close, then turned back to the mander. The two of them were the only ones left on Blade’s Edge Peak.
"mander, how is my boy holding up?" Orion asked. Caelus was his most gifted son; naturally, he was worried.
"Relax. He’s deep in Secluded Meditation," the mander replied. "That foul energy rooting into his inner world is a pure blessing. Once he fully refines the corruption, he might just forge his path to bee a demigod. Tsk. Having a demigod disciple that young... Now that’s worth bragging about."
The mander favored the boy. Caelus possessed lethal talent and a razor-sharp mindset. Blessed with a natural inner world, he was spared the grueling wars of conquest Orion had suffered. All Caelus needed to do was shadow the mander, his father, and his uncles in the Champions Alliance. By reaping the spoils of their victories, devouring rare treasures, and draining World Essence, his ascension was guaranteed.
"Speaking of power, where do you stand?" the mander asked.
He was far more intrigued by Orion’s current limits than the boy’s potential. He had detected a faint, crushing pressure radiating from Orion’s avatar—a pressure that didn’t belong to the avatar itself, but was bleeding through the laws of reality directly from Orion’s true body.
"Embracing limits to restrict the self. Seeking the infinite and immortality within the finite."
The mander’s eyes flared. "Fascinating. It seems being imprisoned in the Titanion Realm wasn’t a cage at all. It was the catalyst you needed to perfectly prehend the profound truths of the fourth stage."
The truths the mander referred to were the essence of the fourth stage divine calling. Intrigued as he was, the mander didn’t pry further. That revelation was Orion’s personal dominion.
"So, you’re only missing the final piece of the fifth stage?"
Orion nodded. Yet, there was no pride in his eyes. The more terrifying his strength grew, the more glaringly he felt his own insignificance. Before ascending, he had lusted after the might of a demigod. But ever since crossing that threshold, the journey had been nothing but a brutal gauntlet of shattered illusions and endless hurdles.
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