Arthas had been his guiding light. Without him, Orion would never have had access to high-tier, rare resources during his early days. Nor would he have received the trove of priceless gifts from his brothers in the Champions Alliance before his rise to power.

Orion certainly wouldn’t bat an eye at those items now, but back then, every single gift had been a trump card, a literal lifeline in times of desperate need.

"Go," Arthas said. "If the situation becomes untenable, relocate your core forces to the Valkorath Realm first."

"Once I use the dragon egg to seize control of the Ever-Burning Volcano, we will join forces. We’ll take back everything you’ve lost, brother."

Orion was deeply moved. This was Arthas’s promise—his brother offering him an ultimate safety net.

With those words, even if Orion lost the entirety of the Titanion Realm, he knew Arthas would help him conquer it all over again in the future.

"With your word, brother, I feel a hell of a lot more confident about what comes next!"

...

The Titanion Realm. The Glazed Sanctum.

The Glazed Sanctum was the stronghold of Seraphina, the Merfolk Demigod. Before Orion came along, the only person allowed to establish a teleportation array here was Kairon, the Siren Demigod.

It wasn’t out of any romantic affection Seraphina held for Kairon. Rather, as fellow lords of the sea, they had an unspoken obligation to aid one another in times of life-threatening crisis.

Just like now. Kairon had come to Seraphina with a desperate plea, formally entrusting her with the lives of his descendants.

"Does Orion treat you well?" Kairon asked, his voice strained. "If he doesn’t, I will go and obliterate the Stoneheart Horde right now."

Kairon gazed at Seraphina. His eyes were a maelstrom of complex emotions: admiration, fervor, obsession, tenderness... and an inescapable, crushing regret.

"Leviathan, you’ve brought your youngest heirs and the remnants of the Siren race to my doorstep. What exactly are you planning?"

Kairon didn’t answer. He just stared at her, harboring a twisted, desperate hope that she would say Orion treated her poorly.

If she did, it would give him an excuse to do one last, reckless thing for the woman he loved before he crossed the point of no return.

Kairon knew his limits. He couldn’t defeat Orion in a direct fight, which meant his only recourse was to unleash his boundless fury and murderous intent upon the Stoneheart Horde.

"Orion treats me wonderfully. We are very much in love," Seraphina replied firmly.

"Kairon, has someone poisoned your mind? Listen to me. With the current state of the Titanion Realm, you cannot trust the words of anyone but us native Demigods."

Seraphina and Kairon had been friends for an age. Even though they had never become lovers, there was a deep, abiding camaraderie between them.

Because of that, she was trying with all her might to talk him down from this ledge.

She didn’t know what Kairon was about to do, but this grim handover of his lineage left her thoroughly bewildered and deeply unsettled.

"Sera," he said softly, using her old moniker, "your warnings come too late. And my pride will never allow me to live a life of cowering in the shadows, enduring constant humiliation."

"If I succeed, the Titanion Realm will remain our home."

"If I fail... then I leave my bloodline in your care."

Kairon gave her no chance to press for details. The moment the words left his mouth, his figure vanished from the Glazed Sanctum, as if he had never been there at all.

"Leviathan... what in the world are you going to do?" she whispered to the empty air.

’Leviathan’ was Seraphina’s personal nickname for Kairon. It was a title that had slipped from her lips in sheer awe the very first time she beheld his true form.

She held no romantic love for him. If she did, given the countless centuries they had known each other, they would have been together long ago.

What existed between them was a shared empathy—the mutual pity and understanding of two rulers bound to the unforgiving fate of the sea.

...

The Valkorath Realm. Skysplitter Peak.

By the time Orion crested the summit, Commander Thresh was already standing at the edge of the cliff. He gazed out at the rolling sea of clouds, radiating the profound, unfathomable aura of an enlightened hermit entirely detached from the mortal world.

"Ever since that boy of yours ran off to play in the Platinum Realm, things have been dreadfully dull around here."

"To be completely honest, it’s made me realize I’ve lost my taste for the peace and quiet that kept me company for countless ages."

Commander Thresh spoke first, not even waiting for Orion to announce his presence.

Orion smiled warmly and offered the Commander a deep, formal bow.

It wasn’t the salute of a subordinate to a superior, but rather the profound respect a parent shows to their child’s revered mentor.

Despite his verbal complaints about Caelus, Orion knew the Commander absolutely adored his disciple.

"I went and checked on your youngest, by the way. He does nothing but drown himself in wine and hollow dreams. The boy has no ambition!"

Orion bowed again. He knew perfectly well the Commander was talking about Pallas.

It was true. Both of Orion’s sons, Caelus and Pallas, were currently in the Platinum Realm.

The difference was that Pallas had been deployed there as an advance scout for the Platinum Authority, while Caelus had simply gone on a whim, driven by his insatiable thirst for exploration and amusement.

"The two boys have different talents and were born into entirely different circumstances," Orion explained. "Pallas was on the verge of being utterly spoiled rotten, which is exactly why I sent him to the Platinum Authority to forge his character."

When he spoke of his children, Orion’s voice carried a mix of joy and undeniable pride.

Especially Caelus. He was a natural-born prodigy, a favored son of the heavens who hadn’t given Orion a single reason to worry since the day he was born.

"Out with it, then. I’m incredibly curious to know what could possibly convince your true body to make the trek all the way up to Blade’s Edge Peak."

Commander Thresh hadn’t turned around once during the exchange. He was mildly interested in Orion’s errand, but only just.

Orion remained silent. He stepped up to the edge of the precipice, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Commander.

After taking a moment to appreciate the breathtaking vista of the Valkorath Realm’s sea of clouds, Orion decisively summoned The Chapter of the Profane, letting the unholy parchment hover directly in front of Commander Thresh.

"This... you actually brought this thing here!"

Surprise. Unmistakable, profound surprise.

Orion was absolutely certain that the Commander hadn’t looked this shocked even when he had first laid eyes on the shards of the Mirror of Theras.

"Envoys from the Profane Lands sought me out," Orion quickly explained, not waiting for the Commander to ask. "They claimed this relic would help me assimilate into the world’s underlying laws. They said it would serve as the ultimate trump card to give me a fighting chance against my enemies."

"They also showed me a Fel Fruit, though they refused to hand it over. Said the time wasn’t right yet."

"Hmph... a trump card? Your own raw strength is your only true trump card!"

"Relying on garbage like this is nothing short of begging for annihilation!"

Commander Thresh was utterly dismissive of the cloaked envoy’s scheming.

"This is a single page of The Chapter of the Profane. It doesn’t even qualify as a fragmented volume!"

"Now, if you had brought me the complete tome of The Chapter of the Profane, I might actually be intrigued enough to play around with it."

With a casual wave of his hand, Commander Thresh sent the cryptic scripture flying back into Orion’s grasp.

"For a Demigod, The Chapter of the Profane is pure, unadulterated catastrophe!"

"Any entity foolish enough to covet its power will inevitably be corrupted. They will be swallowed whole by the tome, forever imprisoned within its pages to serve as mere fodder for heretical gods."

The Commander delivered his absolute verdict on The Chapter of the Profane. Orion understood perfectly well that the older man was referring to the fully intact artifact.

"If it’s just a single, isolated page, you don’t even need my intervention. You’re more than capable of handling it yourself."

Commander Thresh finally turned his head, eyeing Orion with deep suspicion.

"Kid, even if you’re only a half-baked Demigod who barely understands your divine calling and god-forged body... a single page of this scripture shouldn’t be enough to make you kick up this much of a fuss."

"Don’t tell me you’ve actually got your eye on the esoteric arts recorded on that page?"

"Are you seriously thinking about...?"

A sharp, piercing light flashed in the Commander’s eyes. He scrutinized Orion from head to toe, seeing him in a completely new light.

This bastard was too damn bold!

Then again... he liked it.

After a long, heavy silence, Commander Thresh asked uncertainly, "Are you truly willing to pay that price?"