"What a bunch of assholes," Orion muttered, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Even old Valacar had better manners."

Without another word, he teleported.

Two peak archlords? Seriously? They must have a death wish.

Orion reappeared directly behind one of the Deputy Commanders of the Argent Cavalry, his war scythe arcing down.

CLANG!

A blinding holy light flared to life around the knight, a shimmering barrier attempting to deflect the attack. But it was a futile gesture. The weapon in Orion’s hands was a genuine relic war scythe.

With a sickening crack, the war scythe tore through the holy ward without even slowing, cleaving the ambusher in two. The moment he died, a massive, mounted body of faith erupted from the corpse, charging directly at Orion.

At the same time, the second knight of the Light reacted. He couldn’t teleport, but a brilliant white halo flared to life at his feet—the aura of sacrifice, born from the virtue of the same name. Its purpose was simple: burn his own life force and faith to lock down an enemy. Against other opponents, that sacrifice aura gave him and his partner the freedom to engage or retreat at will.

But as the ring of light washed over the Deathly Soul-Reaper, Orion barely felt a thing.

Instead, something deep within him—something ancient and hungry—roared in fury, and the sacrifice aura was violently thrown back at its caster.

A body of faith? A grin spread across Orion’s face. He had to laugh. They were literally asking for it. For an archlord’s body of faith to not only refuse to flee but to actually charge him? It was like shoving your own neck under the guillotine.

But the Deathly Soul-Reaper didn’t swing its scythe. Instead, just before the knight’s body of faith could connect, it teleported again, reappearing behind the second attacker.

The knight’s disembodied body of faith radiated pure, unadulterated shock. How could an archlord be immune to the sacrifice aura? He had never seen anyone move so freely while caught between him and his partner. This wasn’t a fight; it was an execution, and they were on the wrong end of it.

"Faith from the Light, huh?" a new voice echoed behind the spectral knight. "A bit of a hassle, but hey... a free meal’s a free meal."

The body of faith tried to turn, to face this new threat. But it was too late. Darkness consumed its vision.

Orion, his true form now present, activated his Titan Form and simply devoured the knight’s body of faith in a single bite.

Across the ruined landscape, the Deathly Soul-Reaper mirrored the move, slicing the second knight of the Light in half. This time, however, a blurry phantom materialized, shielding the knight’s newly released body of faith within its form.

"Who are you?" the phantom’s voice rasped, its form indistinct, a clear sign of weakness. "Why would you attack two of my Deputy Commanders?"

Orion laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Seriously? You’re in the Abyss, asking me why I’m attacking a knight of the Light? Did you leave your brain at home? This is the Abyss. You guys are public enemy number one."

As he spoke, the Curse Avatar detached from his body, lunging toward the demigod phantom with a bone-chilling cackle. But just as Orion prepared to feast on the second body of faith, the phantom did something completely unexpected. It consumed the very knight it was protecting.

Then, before Orion’s stunned eyes, the demigod phantom dissolved into a streak of light and shot away to the north.

Orion was genuinely floored. A demigod-level virtue knight just ate his own Deputy Commander.

What the hell was that? So much for being a "virtue knight." Where was the virtue in that? What happened to the knightly code?

The thought, dripping with cynical gamer logic, gave him a whole new perspective on the knights of the Light. Holy shit... Is this their version of keeping the XP in the family?

Orion, his Deathly Soul-Reaper, and his Curse Avatar stood there for a silent moment, a triad of apex predators momentarily bewildered by their prey’s bizarre behavior.

"Well, the main course ran off," Orion finally said, turning his attention to the Curse Avatar. "But the appetizers are still on the table. There are a few hundred thousand knights of the Light down there. Make sure none of them get away."

The Curse Avatar dissolved into a swirling mist of blood, countless strange runes flickering within it. The crimson fog swept down like a tornado, blanketing the cavalry regiment’s camp in the ruins below.

In an instant, every last knight of the Light began to mutate, their forms twisting and warping as they were corrupted into grotesque curse monsters, their allegiance violently rewritten. They were Orion’s private army now.

As their bodies were twisted, transparent phantoms—their souls—floated up from the cursed forms. They clustered together, their silent voices calling out to the heavens. High above the Abyss, a column of light pierced the sky, a celestial beam reaching down to guide the pure souls home.

Too bad for them, it was happening on Orion’s turf. That wasn’t going to fly.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Orion’s trident, Spite of the Wrathful Star, shot skyward with unstoppable force. The Deathly Soul-Reaper swung its scythe, unleashing the raw power of the relic. The Curse Avatar blasted a thick, bloody beam of cursed light.

The celestial elevator beam shattered into nothing. Not a single mote of light remained.

With the light gone, the helpless souls hung in the air, only to be systematically gathered by Ashreign, who had just stepped through a spatial rift. As the commander of the Wraith Knight army, souls were one of the primary resources he required. With this bounty, and a sufficient supply of corpses and bones, he could rapidly expand his forces. A ten-thousand-strong army of Wraith Knights could swell to a legion of millions.

"You don’t seem to be afraid of me," Orion’s true form remarked, landing beside Ashreign. He watched with interest as the commander absorbed the souls of hundreds of thousands of knights into a skull that burned with an eerie green fire.

"You are all my lord," Ashreign replied, his head bowed in reverence. "Why would I be afraid?"

"How can you tell?" Orion asked, genuinely curious. It was the first time anyone had been able to distinguish between his forms.

"My lord, your avatars may differ in race and appearance, but the signature of your soul is identical in all of them."

Of course. Wraith Knights were masters of the soul; it was their entire thing.

"How many Wraith Knights can you raise from these souls?" Orion asked, getting straight to the point. He expected a serious return on this soul harvest.

"My lord, the souls of these knights of the Light are exceptionally pure. They are the finest material," Ashreign explained. "Once their memories are wiped, they can be converted directly into powerful Wraith Knights. As many souls as we have, that is how many new knights we shall have."