Orion nodded, his eyes filled with absolute resolve.

"Commander, using my incomplete god-forged body as a vessel, and supplementing it with The Chapter of the Profane and the Fel Fruit... could I stand face-to-face against a powerhouse who has established a Divine Kingdom and is on the verge of entering the fourth stage?"

This was the real question Orion had come to ask.

He didn’t actually care about The Chapter of the Profane or the Profane Lands.

Because as long as he became strong enough, any person or faction would be nothing but dust before him.

Commander Thresh didn’t answer right away. He lowered his head, sinking into a long, deep silence.

Orion waited quietly. He was in no rush.

He knew perfectly well that he wasn’t a normal Demigod. He couldn’t be measured against conventional fourth-stage or sixth-stage experts.

Truth be told, Orion wasn’t entirely sure of his own power limits. He only knew one thing for certain: if his instincts told him it was possible, then he could make it happen.

However, when facing Insect Queen Moriphara—a monstrosity with a body the size of a small asteroid—Orion’s confidence wavered.

He wasn’t sure he could defeat her.

Moreover, the thought of the dozen or so Demigod-level Insectoids serving her was enough to make anyone’s scalp tingle with dread.

"Your ultimate goal isn’t just the Insect Queen, is it?"

At some point, Commander Thresh had emerged from his thoughts. He looked up at Orion with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Orion nodded, then shook his head.

"Once I defeat the Insect Queen, I want to seize absolute control over the Titanion Realm. I want to rewrite its underlying laws and forge it into the perfect Paradise for the Stoneheart Horde to thrive."

"Just like your Valkorath Realm, Commander. A place where no outsider dares to run wild."

Orion hadn’t realized it in the past, but he saw it clearly now.

The Valkorath Realm wasn’t simply a territory the Commander had conquered through brute force. This world was entirely under his dominion, its very laws bent to his will.

The simplest proof was that the Valkorath Realm’s cosmic coordinates could shift at the Commander’s command, completely isolating it from enemy incursions.

Orion hadn’t been able to sense this before simply because his strength and perspective had been lacking.

Now, however, his eyes were full of naked envy.

"Besides, if I control the Titanion Realm, Clown and Witch won’t be able to track me down. They won’t be able to easily backstab me or sabotage my home."

To be honest, when Clown first lured the Insectoids to the Titanion Realm, Orion hadn’t resented him. Deep down, he had actually been a little thrilled.

The Insectoid invasion was a war, but it was also a baptism of fire.

Through this crucible, the Stoneheart Horde would continuously grow stronger and plunder vast resources. For a conqueror like Orion who craved expansion, this was exactly what he needed. It was a good thing.

However, as massive factions like the Cult of Four and the Profane Lands began infiltrating the Titanion Realm—both openly and from the shadows—Orion started to feel a genuine sense of crisis.

Entities like Clown were impossible to guard against. No matter how many defenses he raised, they would always slip through.

Therefore, Orion was desperate to claim the Titanion Realm for his own and transform it into his personal Divine Kingdom.

He wanted to rewrite the realm’s laws, alter its cosmic coordinates, and drag both the Titanion Realm and the Stoneheart Horde onto a completely new trajectory.

The problem was, someone else was already doing exactly that.

That someone was Insect Queen Moriphara.

The God-Devouring Insectoids had grown steadily more powerful through endless cycles of invasion and assimilation. If Orion let the war drag on at its current pace, he and his Stoneheart Horde were doomed to lose.

The best-case scenario would be forcing the Stoneheart Horde to evacuate the Titanion Realm right before the Insectoids claimed ultimate victory.

To stop Insect Queen Moriphara from assimilating the Titanion Realm, Orion had to embody divine power itself. He needed to merge with the world’s laws, wrestling control from the Insect Queen to seize the realm’s supreme Authority.

Until now, Orion hadn’t possessed the ability to merge with the world’s laws.

The appearance of The Chapter of the Profane and the Fel Fruit had finally given him that chance.

"Clown... Witch..."

Commander Thresh muttered, the two names seemingly striking a chord with him in that moment.

"The page of The Chapter of the Profane in your hands is a fragment of a dark grimoire. It is tantamount to a divine artifact; it belongs to a god."

"The moment the dark god who owns that grimoire awakens, they will undoubtedly come looking for you to reclaim their missing pages and restore their power."

The Commander stared at Orion, his gaze as sharp as a blade and as searing as a torch.

"If you fuse your god-forged body with The Chapter of the Profane, the very nature of your divine flesh will make the scripture a permanent part of you. It will be impossible to casually separate them."

"Which means, you will be making a sworn, eternal enemy out of an unknown dark god. Have you truly thought this through?"

The Commander was dead serious. He spoke at length, laying out the lethal stakes involved to ensure Orion didn’t make a rash decision.

"Commander, I don’t know why, but I feel an overwhelming sense of urgency. I constantly have this illusion that time is running out."

It was a bizarre statement. Orion didn’t understand it himself, but Commander Thresh did. Yet, the older man offered no explanation.

"If I rely on conventional cultivation methods, I have no idea how long it will take to progress from the first stage of a Demigod to the sixth stage."

"But I do know it would take an excruciatingly long time—ages long enough to fall into a deep slumber and wake up ignorant to the passing of eras."

"Just like an entity such as yourself, Commander!"

Orion met Commander Thresh’s gaze. In Orion’s eyes, the man before him had always been a figure of unparalleled, towering greatness.

The Commander had never tasted defeat. Every time he struck, it was clean, decisive, and relentlessly victorious. It was true in the past, it was true now, and it would likely remain true in the future.

"Commander, we just don’t have that kind of time."

Thresh remained silent, offering no retort.

"Devouring worlds, devouring worthy opponents to maximize my growth—that is what I must do now. It is our fastest path to true power."

"And I believe that in your eyes, Commander, such actions could hardly be considered evil."

These were Orion’s truest thoughts. His current ambitions would likely be branded as sheer wickedness by any self-righteous saintess or bleeding heart.

"Heh... Boy, are you testing me?"

The Commander chuckled, a soft scoff laced with total nonchalance.

"Kid, if you were just a half-baked Demigod relying on your divine calling, trying to merge with a world’s laws to wrestle for Authority would be pure suicide."

"But if you integrate your god-forged body into the process... never mind someone on the verge of the fourth stage, even against a true fourth-stage powerhouse, you’d have a sixty or seventy percent chance of winning."

The Commander turned around, stepping away from the cliff edge and walking back to lounge inside his grand tent.

"Go. As long as you successfully conquer the Titanion Realm and seize that Insectoid’s Divine Kingdom... to hell with the Profane Lands. Even if that dark god comes knocking on your door in the future, I’ll have your back."

These words were tossed out casually by Commander Thresh as he leaned back on a pile of thick furs, his legs crossed comfortably.

"Thank you, Commander!"

Orion bowed deeply. This was exactly the answer he had climbed Blade’s Edge Peak to hear.

The Chapter of the Profane involved a dark god, and Orion refused to let his own greed recklessly drag his brothers in the Champions Alliance down with him. The Profane Lands were undoubtedly a terrifying force, and he hadn’t been entirely sure if even a heavyweight like the Commander could weather their storm.

Now, Orion had his answer.

With that, he turned and took his leave.

Watching Orion’s retreating back, Commander Thresh pulled out a drinking horn and took a massive, heavy swig of ale.