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"Prince Wiggins and I go way back," the Deputy Commander explained, his gaze fixed on Orion. "It’s professional courtesy. I extend a courtesy here, and when those two report back, he’ll return the favor."
Sometimes, power was a currency of mutual respect. The Deputy Commander’s gesture would be reported, and if Prince Wiggins was the friend he claimed to be, he would ensure the matter was dropped. Great factions didn’t go to war over a backwater like the Godforsaken Land. The cost-benefit analysis just wasn’t there.
"This world is special," the Deputy Commander continued, his tone shifting to that of a mentor. "It’s been modified by a Grand Magus of the Eltar Mage Alliance. If you can hold it, you can use it as a crucible to forge a steady stream of archlords for your Stoneheart Horde. For those with enough potential, that sliver of Desert’s Authority could even be the catalyst for their ascension to demigod."
That was its true value. That was why the Alliance had sent two demigods in the first place.
"I don’t have time right now, but when I do, I’ll return to help you modify the Dune-Wyrm Roc and lay down some proper defensive formations. Or," he added with a hint of a smile, "you could let Elara do it. It would be good practice for her." The mention of magic brought his young apprentice to mind. "When I next awaken, have her return to the Valkorath Realm. It’s time I taught her a few new things."
Orion chuckled. It was clear the Deputy Commander simply missed his student.
"She’s already reached the Legendary level," Orion reported.
A flash of genuine pride and delight lit up the Deputy Commander’s eyes. "Excellent. She hasn’t been slacking. Now, I must return to my rest. The matters of the Valkorath, Emerald Dream, and Silverwood Realms are in your hands, and Leonidas’s."
With that, he vanished in a shimmer of teleportation magic.
"I was roused by Arthas’s alert," Alexander’s phantom said, his form wavering. "It’s a good thing this didn’t come to a fight. I wouldn’t have been much help. I, too, must sleep." He faded away.
It was only then that Orion realized the full truth. The Deputy Commander hadn’t just been playing politics for Prince Wiggins’s sake. The Champions Alliance was weakened. They had all expended immense power in the last great war. Alexander, especially, still had to forge and recover his Asura demigod avatar, a process that would drain him completely.
"As must I," Arthas said, the last to depart. He gave Leonidas a long look, only teleporting away after Leonidas thumped his chest in a silent, confident gesture.
"Damn it all," Leonidas grumbled, looking around at the empty desert. "Sounds like I slept through one hell of a war!"
Orion nodded grimly. The battle in the Silverwood Realm had been more than just a war. With the commander and the Archbishops of the Cult of Four making their moves, the very fate of the continent had been rewritten.
***
Titanion Realm, Stoneheart Citadel.
A guest of honor had arrived at Orion’s castle. Or perhaps, a new mistress was the more accurate term. The guest was the Moon Elf Isilra, of Staghelm City.
In a rare display of formal courtesy, Orion himself had met her at the gates, personally escorting her inside and introducing her to his family: Lilith, Sylvana, Pallas, and Elara.
The gravity of the occasion was lost on no one. It wasn’t just that Isilra had a demigod and the entirety of Staghelm City at her back; she herself was a peak archlord with the clear potential to ascend. For a woman of such power and pedigree to marry into the Stoneheart Horde was an event that demanded the highest respect.
Isilra’s arrival would be a new pillar supporting their entire faction.
For Lilith, the emotions were a complex, tangled web. As a succubus, her possessive instincts bristled at the thought of another woman at her husband’s side. But as his queen, the strategist in her understood the undeniable truth: Isilra was a cornerstone, a massive injection of power and stability for the Horde.
Unlike Orion’s other archlord-level assets, Isilra was a true, independent commander. The ancient giant-horned whale required a summoner of immense power just to call forth. The Tree of Life was immobile. Standard-bearer Vex was bound to the Conquest Legion in the Abyss. And the phoenix Fenyra was a proud creature who answered to Orion and no one else.
Isilra was different. She could think, strategize, lead, and interact with others as a peer. She was a flexible, sentient weapon where the others were specialized, limited tools.
In a move that was pure Orion, after completing the formal introductions, he shamelessly dumped Isilra on Lilith and retreated to his chambers to "rest." All that was left was to send out the invitations and hold the wedding to formalize the alliance.
In the back garden of the castle, beneath a magical tree laden with violet blossoms, where faerie insects and elemental sprites flitted between the vines, Lilith and Isilra sat across from one another.
Lilith’s face was wreathed in a warm, welcoming smile.
She had come to terms with it. The women in Orion’s life weren’t simple consorts to be managed; they were forces of nature.
The blood elf Lycanor, the merfolk Marina—each came with their own formidable power and deep-rooted connections. Adding the moon elf Isilra to the mix hardly changed the equation.
Besides, Lilith had seen the pattern. None of these women were vying with her for the title of queen. Whether out of disinterest or disdain, the result was the same, and for that, she was grateful.
More importantly, Orion didn’t hoard them. He delegated, granting them territories and sharing his power. They became integral, empowered parts of the Stoneheart Horde. The moon elf sitting before her would be no different. The bulk of her focus would inevitably be on the Silverwood Realm.
"On our first meeting, I wasn’t sure what you would like," Lilith said, her voice warm after Isilra had sampled the delicate pastries and tea she had prepared herself. "After much thought, I decided to share the most precious thing I have with you."
She slid a beautifully crafted box across the table.
"Please, don’t refuse. This is a small token from me, and from Orion."
Isilra’s gaze shifted from Lilith to the two small figures sitting ramrod straight beside her. Elara and Pallas were watching the box with undisguised curiosity, an instinct telling them that whatever was inside was immensely valuable.
"Would you two like to see my gift?" Isilra asked, a gentle smile on her lips. As a moon elf, she felt a natural affection for the children.
Pallas said nothing, stealing a glance at his mother. Lilith’s serene smile offered no clues, so he clamped down on his curiosity and remained silent.
Elara, however, piped up in her bright, clear voice. "Auntie, Elara wants to see!"
Isilra nodded, then looked to Lilith for confirmation. Seeing the smile remain, she agreed to the request. In truth, that single word—"Auntie"—had already worked its magic. When Isilra had first arrived, Elara’s immediate use of the familiar title had charmed her into gifting both children a pair of beautiful pendants from her own collection. It was a strange, disarming feeling, to have so quickly and completely become an elder to these two little ones.
Under their expectant gazes, Isilra opened the ornate box.
"A turtle shell?" Pallas blurted out.
Inside the box was, indeed, a tiny turtle shell. Startled by the children’s voices, the shell’s occupant awoke, tentatively extending four short legs and a small, reptilian head.
"This is..." Isilra’s brow furrowed, her expression shifting from surprise to one of profound gravity. "This gift is far too precious."
This was no common turtle. It was a Tritail Dreadturtle, a creature with the bloodline of an archlord. As a peak archlord herself, Isilra could feel the pure, concentrated power coiled within the tiny creature.
"You have come so far to join us in the Stoneheart Horde," Lilith said with a generous smile that didn’t quite hide the flicker of reluctance in her eyes. "This is just a small token from Orion and me. We hope you will like it."
Orion had originally acquired three Tritail Dreadturtle eggs. As a master beast tamer, Lilith had hatched them long ago and had been secretly pouring resources into their development. The creature in the box may have been no bigger than her fist, but it already possessed the power of an early-stage Alpha beast.
"It doesn’t have a name yet. I’ve just been calling him ’Number Three,’" Lilith admitted. "He’s yours now. Perhaps you would like to name him?"
Orion had told her how Isilra’s white tiger mount had been killed in the war for the Silverwood Realm, its body of faith unable to escape. The timing and the circumstances made the Tritail Dreadturtle the perfect gift. It was the most valuable, presentable thing Lilith possessed.
Of the three turtles, the first had bonded with Lilith herself. The other two were meant for Elara and Pallas—future archlord mounts to ensure their safety. But plans changed. When her sister Delilah prepared to venture into the Abyss, Lilith had given her the second one. Now, the last one had found its home.
Considering Isilra’s power and the resources of Staghelm City, the turtle’s growth would be greatly accelerated. Before long, the Stoneheart Horde would have another archlord-level combatant. It was a strategic, if painful, decision.
"Then I thank you, my sister," Isilra said, making no move to refuse. She flicked a mote of soft moonlight onto the turtle before closing the box. She desperately needed a new mount, and finding one of archlord potential was next to impossible. Finding a hatchling she could bond with from the start was a miracle. She needed it, Staghelm City needed it, and the Stoneheart Horde needed it.
With the gift given and accepted, the atmosphere in the garden lightened, and a genuine warmth began to grow between them, a new bond quietly strengthening between the two women and the children.
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