From the woman’s perspective, it was as if Orion had heard her explanation and was weighing his decision.

"Trouble?"

A cold snort, like the rumble of a distant dragon, echoed from the void itself. In the same instant, an immense demigod’s aura crashed down upon them, a wave of raw power that pressed the man and woman to their knees.

"For who dares trouble the kin of the great wyrm?" a majestic, impossibly ostentatious voice boomed through the air. "Let the heavens tremble and the earth quake, for the storm has come to play!"

A figure materialized beside Orion, cloaked in robes of cerulean silk embroidered with a celestial, serpentine dragon. It was Leonidas. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Orion, a silent, unshakeable declaration of allegiance.

Honestly, even Orion was a little stunned. The robes were just... a lot.

"The coming of Leonidas heralds the changing of the winds! The dragon soars, and the world trembles!" Leonidas continued, then dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, slinging an arm over Orion’s shoulders. "So, bro, what do you think? That last part, I wrote it myself. Is it epic enough? You know me, my entrance line has to be an absolute chick magnet."

He completely ignored the two demigods kneeling in the sand, far more concerned with Orion’s critique of his new look.

***

Half a day earlier, in an unknown realm...

Leonidas lay dormant atop the highest peak of Giant Beast Mountain, just as he had for years, his life force completely withdrawn. But his territory was no longer quiet. His long silence had been interpreted by his neighbors as death. After several probing attacks went unanswered, they grew bold, carving off pieces of his domain for themselves.

Alexander’s agents watched it all unfold, but he did nothing. He knew his old friend. When Leonidas finally ascended, he would require a grand, bloody celebration to mark the occasion. His neighbors were simply setting the stage, providing the sacrificial lambs.

Just as the greedy lords pushed into his core territory, the sleeping lion finally awoke. In a single, explosive moment, he shattered the final barrier and ascended to the rank of demigod.

On that day, no beast on the mountain dared to roar. There was only the sound of a single, triumphant dragon’s cry, a sound that shook the foundations of the world. He had awakened his Lord’s Stone, and it was the stone of the Dragon.

His original form, that of an amethyst blood lion, had been reforged. He was now a dragon, but with the same raw, terrifying power.

At the same instant, the World Dragon egg he had been guarding cracked open. A water-attuned World Dragon hatched, its nascent consciousness immediately and irrevocably bound to Leonidas. For one who had just become a draconic demigod himself, claiming the avatar was as natural as breathing—far faster than even Elara’s progress.

When the dragon’s cry finally subsided, a new voice, his voice, rolled across the entire world.

"All who trespass upon my domain shall die!"

A new demigod had been born, and it was time to redraw the map. His neighbors, every last one of them, were scoured from existence, their lands and wealth forfeit.

That had been mere hours ago. So when Arthas relayed Orion’s call for aid, Leonidas didn’t hesitate. He dropped everything and had Arthas send him the coordinates. It wasn’t his true form that answered the call, but it was the next best thing: his new World Dragon avatar.

***

The Godforsaken Land, Sea of Sand.

Leonidas’s voice pulled Orion from his thoughts. He shook his head.

"Nah, bro. With that face and that much pure swagger? You don’t need an entrance line."

It wasn’t flattery. In his new humanoid form, Leonidas was genuinely, shockingly handsome. The dragon robes only amplified his regal, almost otherworldly charisma.

"Hahaha! That’s what I thought, too!" Leonidas roared with laughter, a man who felt like he’d finally come into his own.

"Show-off."

"Still the same arrogant bastard."

Two new voices, dry and unimpressed, cut through the laughter. The phantoms of Arthas and Alexander shimmered into existence, flanking the two intruders, cutting off their only path of retreat.

FWOOM!

The air behind the intruders ignited. As they turned, their eyes widened in horror. Standing there, wreathed in roaring, incandescent flames, was the Deputy Commander.

"Divine Fire!" the red-haired man choked out, his voice cracking. "He’s a second-stage demigod!"

Of all the threats that had just appeared—Leonidas, Alexander, Arthas, the Curse Avatar—the silent figure bathed in holy flame was, by far, the most terrifying. If he got serious, Adrian and Kaina wouldn’t stand a chance.

Edward said nothing, his fiery gaze fixed on them. This was Orion’s territory. He was merely here as backup.

"Gentlemen, I believe there has been a misunderstanding," the blue-eyed woman said, her voice finally losing its serene edge. "Kaina and Adrian did not come to the sea of sand seeking conflict. This was a public holding of our Eltar Mage Alliance. When its status changed so abruptly, it was our duty to investigate. Your feud with Faraday has nothing to do with us."

The red-haired man, Adrian, was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. It was a classic good-cop, bad-cop routine, but the script had been violently torn to shreds. Faced with the overwhelming power of the Champions Alliance, Kaina had no choice but to sue for peace. She was intelligent, carefully choosing her words—"was," "no conflict," "your feud," "nothing to do with us"—to completely sever their connection to Faraday and reframe their intrusion as a simple fact-finding mission.

"Sir," she said, her gaze shifting back to Orion when it became clear the fiery demigod wasn’t going to speak. "You must understand. If we had come here with malicious intent, would we have simply walked up to you in plain sight?"

"And for any... unpleasantness... between us, the Eltar Mage Alliance is prepared to offer compensation."

The blue-eyed woman, Kaina, held Orion’s gaze. Her words were a carefully constructed olive branch, but the threat was woven into its very leaves: if anything happened to them here, this quiet world would become a warzone. It was a threat backed by an organization that could unmake entire realms.

At the end of the day, they were only avatars. Their loss was acceptable. But Kaina knew that starting a war with the unknown faction standing before her over a worthless patch of sand was a terrible trade. A group that could summon five demigods—including a second-stage powerhouse—on a whim was not some backwater tribe. They had to have a major power backing them. Starting a war over this would be a catastrophic miscalculation.

"Lady Kaina," Orion began, a lazy, unconcerned smile playing on his lips, "this sea of sand was conquered, soldier by soldier. Its ownership has been transferred. If, as you say, this was a business deal between you and another party, and that deal has gone south, then your problem is with Faraday, the previous tenant. Not with me, the new owner. It’s simple, really."

His logic was shameless, and he knew it. Kaina’s composure was admirable; she had already shifted from a position of superiority to one of negotiation. She was treating him as an equal.

Just then, the sand beside them began to churn. With a silent command from Soraya, the Dune-Wyrm Roc, the ancient guardian of the Desert’s Authority, erupted from the ground. It fixed its ancient, stony gaze on Adrian and Kaina, a silent promise of violence.

Kaina’s heart sank. She had forgotten about the guardian. That was another demigod-level combatant. The math was brutal and undeniable. Seven of them. She and Adrian didn’t stand a chance. Even if the Tower Master and reinforcements from headquarters arrived, taking this place would be a meat grinder.

"And who might you be?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

"Orion," he answered, the smile on his face now one of pure victory. He could hear the surrender in her tone.

"Orion," she repeated, her expression calm and resolved. "You are right. This was a transaction between us and Faraday. The transaction has failed, and our recourse is with him and whatever family or faction stands behind him. You are a third party, and this matter is of no concern to the Eltar Mage Alliance."

She had made up her mind. It was far more efficient to pressure Faraday’s backers to reclaim the territory than to start a war with this unknown powerhouse. That was their problem to solve.

The Tower Master’s original orders had been simple: reassert the Alliance’s claim through overwhelming authority. But the new occupants were not some petty warlords; they were a fortress of solid steel. Intimidation was pointless.

"Adrian and I have concluded our investigation," Kaina announced. "For our trespass, and for the offense we have caused, please accept this as compensation."

A scroll of shimmering magic appeared in her hand. She offered it to Orion.

He took it without a word and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it floating over to the Deputy Commander, who was still standing silently behind Kaina. When it came to magic, no one here knew more than the master mage.

"Not bad," the Deputy Commander remarked, his voice devoid of emotion. "A large-scale Razorwind Cataclysm. A forbidden-class spell. A couple of these would turn this whole Godforsaken Land into a glass parking lot."

His words were a clear warning to Orion: the scroll wasn’t just compensation; it was a message. A reminder of the power they wielded. With a faint flick of his finger, he sent the scroll floating back to Orion.

Orion pocketed the scroll, his eyes locking with Kaina’s.

"Your compensation is accepted, Lady Kaina. As is the message it carries. I have a very long memory. I tend to repay debts, both good and bad."

Kaina, a master of subtext, understood him perfectly. If anything happened to the sea of sand, he would hold the Eltar Mage Alliance responsible.

"If this desert should come to..." Orion began, his expression turning cold, ready to deliver a final, cutting threat to ensure they never underestimated him again.

"For the sake of Prince Wiggins, this matter is concluded," the Deputy Commander suddenly cut in, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "The sea of sand belongs to us."

The unexpected interruption silenced everyone. Adrian and Kaina spun around, staring at the Deputy Commander with fresh eyes. The name he had spoken—Prince Wiggins—was a senior, deeply powerful elder at the Alliance’s headquarters. The very scroll they had just handed over was of his design.

Edward had recognized its magical signature.

"You know Prince Wiggins of the Eltar Mage... wait..." Adrian’s eyes widened as he finally looked past the divine fire and saw the robes the Deputy Commander wore. "Is that... the formal robe of a Saint Gran Council Elder?"

The Deputy Commander ignored him, his gaze fixed on the two demigods. "We took this land. It is ours now. If you disagree, you are welcome to try and take it back."

His tone was colder and harder than Orion’s had ever been.

"Sir, we understand your position completely," Kaina said, her voice now filled with a new, profound respect. "This matter is, as you said, concluded. We will trouble you no further. We bid you farewell."

She produced a new scroll, one of teleportation, and crushed it in her hand. Without another word, she and Adrian vanished in a shimmer of arcane energy.

No one moved to stop them.

As the last vestiges of dimensional energy faded into the desert air, the crushing, oppressive silence finally began to lift.