The names he mentioned were the abyssal dragon, Xalathar, and the Thunderhawk, Rayden.

And he had been telling the truth. Orion had never truly restricted either of them. Rayden, especially, had been unable to keep pace with Orion’s meteoric rise and had long since faded from his direct command to rule his own domain.

"You want me to promise your daughter freedom?" Orion’s voice was laced with a cynical irony. "What even is that? Does it truly exist in this world?"

He gestured vaguely at the cavern around them. "Look at yourself. You’re a demigod, and you’re trapped in a goddamn egg, bound to this volcano. Tell me more about freedom."

The questions were sharp, each one a needle aimed directly at the heart of Nyxira’s dilemma. But he knew it wasn’t enough.

"This is the only promise I will make," Orion continued, his tone hardening. "I will not treat your daughter as cannon fodder. I will not send her into a battle she cannot win. But as for sheltering her? Giving her a space to simply grow? That’s a joke."

"Tell me, which peerless Archlord, which Demigod, wasn’t forged in blood and chaos? You’re a demigod. You know this better than anyone."

He was, in his own brutal way, laying his cards on the table. He was speaking the unvarnished truth of their world, a truth that both he and Nyxira had lived. Even the allies he respected had climbed a mountain of corpses to reach the divine realm.

The cavern fell silent once more. Orion met the egg’s unseen gaze, his expression completely sincere.

"Besides," he added, "a creature of her lineage has immense potential. In any major faction, she would never be relegated to the role of a true slave or a throwaway asset. No leader in their right mind would waste a phoenix with archlord potential as a mere showpiece. She would be a pillar of my horde."

And that, too, was the truth. If he truly took this phoenix under his command, her status and the resources afforded to her would be among the highest in the Stoneheart horde.

A long, heavy moment passed.

"You have convinced me, outsider," Nyxira’s voice finally came, filled with a profound and weary resignation.

"Mom, no!" the phoenix cried, panicked. She scrambled to her feet on the eggshell, pacing frantically and nudging her head against the shell like a child seeking comfort.

"Fenyra, go to him," Nyxira’s voice was gentle, but firm. "This is your path now. Freedom, honor... these are things you must seize for yourself."

Orion couldn’t have agreed more. He had children of his own. With the exception of the unique Elara, none of them—not Kronos, not Pallas, not Kaelen, not even the unborn Caelus—would be coddled. Once they reached the Legendary level, they would be granted their own territories, their own armies, and they would be expected to expand the borders of the Stoneheart horde through their own strength.

Kronos was already embedded within the human kingdoms, being groomed to one day unite them under the horde’s banner.

Kaelen had been born on a hostile continent in the Emerald Dream Realm, behind enemy lines. Orion was waiting for the day his son would carve his own bloody path out of that crucible and return to him.

And Pallas, his son of giant and succubus blood, would retrace his own steps, starting with nothing in the first layer of the Abyss, forging his own legend and conquering new territory for the horde. This was his expectation.

"Fenyra," Nyxira’s voice was ice. "That was a command."

The phoenix trembled. With a final, sorrowful look at the egg, she began to walk toward Orion. The journey of a few hundred feet was agonizingly slow, each step a battle between fear and duty.

As she finally stood before him, her eyes a swirling mix of terror and defiance, Orion reached out and inscribed the sigil of the slave contract on her brow.

"M-Master," she stammered, the defiance in her eyes instantly extinguished by the pact, replaced by a deep-seated reverence. The fear was still there, now buried deeper.

Orion gave a slight nod, then turned his back on her, approaching the great egg. "Lady Nyxira. How do I help you?"

"Channel your Rule into the egg, Orion."

Like him, she paid the defeated Fenyra no mind. Orion placed his hand on the shell, and the power of his own personal law flowed into it.

This isn’t an egg, he realized instantly. It’s a formation.

The egg was merely the physical manifestation of a massive containment matrix, a clever disguise and, he suspected, a dead man’s switch for the entire world. He could feel his power radiating through the matrix, reinforcing the seal on the volcano.

"No... NO! DON’T!" a voice of pure hatred and despair howled from the depths. "Damn you, outsider! Why did you side with that bitch?! I told you! Everything you wanted... it could have been yours! Work with me, and you could have had anything!"

It was the last, desperate cry of Orric.

Orion had no personal grudge against the creature. He had no idea what had happened between him and Nyxira. But he knew one thing: Orric’s demigod essence could heal this world.

And that was reason enough.

"You bitch... you bitch... it’s all your fault... all of it..."

"I won’t accept this!"

The voice faded. Half a day later, it was gone completely. The magma at the bottom of the volcano cooled and receded, sinking back into the planet’s core. Orion could feel it: the ambient rules of the Cretaceous World were stabilizing, growing stronger. The air itself felt cleaner, humming with a purer form of magic.

The deed was done. Orion pulled his hand back, a flicker of pain crossing his face at the immense cost in faith energy he had just expended.

"Thank you, Orion," Nyxira’s voice was soft, heavy with finality. "You have fulfilled my last wish."

Orion just shrugged. A deal was a deal.

It was then that the cracking sound returned, louder this time. Fenyra, who had been watching them with wide, anxious eyes, flew to the egg and landed on its surface.

"Mother? Mom, are you coming out?" Her voice was filled with a child’s pure, unadulterated joy.

Orion, however, felt a pang of pity.