Orion was no stranger to command. He hadn't been born into power; he'd clawed his way up from nothing, leading armies forged in the crucible of war. But the Abyss operated on a different logic, a brutal calculus that he was still adapting to. The losses against the Doomguard had been a bloody lesson.

Bidalun's warning simply drove the point home. The First Army wasn't like the Scourge Wardens or the Wraith Knights. They weren't constructs of soulfire or reanimated bone; they were living, breathing soldiers. They had needs. They needed food, and they needed an outlet for their desires—desires that, in the Abyss, burned hotter and more fiercely than in any world above.

The infrastructure for the First Army had to be built, and it had to be built now. He knew, with cold certainty, that the vast majority of his future followers would be just like them.

"As you command. Bidalun will not disappoint," the commander vowed.

Orion waved a hand, dismissing him. As Bidalun departed, Orion fell into a deep, strategic silence. He had to think, really think, about the very architecture of the empire he was building.

***

Godforsaken Land, Cretaceous World.

A piercing cry, a clarion call of pure fire, ripped through the sky above the nameless valley. The song of the phoenix Fenyra echoed for miles, a declaration of vibrant life and absolute authority. A streak of burning gold painted the clouds.

Hearing the call, the Cretaceous beasts below retreated like a receding tide. For them, it was a command. The snow covering the valley floor began to melt under the sudden, intense heat, and countless snowlings and snow monsters simply dissolved into steam.

"An enemy?" Lumi materialized beside Soraya. Behind them stood the formidable, chitinous Nest of the scorpion tribe. Lumi had sought refuge there instinctively, knowing it could withstand an archlord's assault long enough for them to survive.

"Heh… Relax, Lumi. No way that's an enemy." Soraya slung an arm around Lumi's waist, giving her a playful squeeze. "For all we know, Orion is riding that thing." She felt the cool, smooth texture of Lumi's skin beneath her fingers, a sensation she found herself enjoying. "You know Orion. You think he'd let his own people walk into this kind of danger? Not a chance."

Soraya looked up, sensing no hostility from the Archlord descending from the heavens. As an elemental being, Lumi's senses should have been sharper, but Fenyra was a creature of pure flame. The phoenix's very presence repelled the ice and snow that gave Lumi her strength. That, combined with the sheer difference in their power levels, scrambled her perception, making her see only a threat. It also didn't help that Orion was deliberately masking his aura.

As the members of the Stoneheart Horde watched the colossal, fiery bird descend, a sharp-eyed warrior finally pointed. "It's the lord! Our lord is on its back!"

A wave of relief washed over the encampment.

A moment later, Fenyra folded her massive wings, her form shrinking and shifting until she was a small, brilliant firebird perched on Orion's shoulder.

"My lord, you certainly know how to make an entrance. You nearly gave Lumi and me a heart attack!" Soraya glided to Orion's side, taking his arm in a familiar, intimate gesture.

Lumi, however, remained rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on the phoenix. Discomfort and a natural, elemental antipathy were plain on her face. A fire Archlord was the very antithesis of her being.

Orion noticed immediately. He placed a hand over Fenyra, and a shimmering ward enveloped the firebird. The oppressive, searing aura that had so unsettled Lumi vanished.

"This is Fenyra," Orion said, walking over to Lumi and putting an arm around her, guiding her toward the main tent. "She is the Archlord of the Cretaceous World, and she has joined the Stoneheart Horde."

From within the tent, the tribe could hear the muffled sound of Orion's voice as he laid out his plans.

"Soraya, this valley will now be Fenyra's territory… The Cretaceous World is officially part of the Horde, which means the beasts outside are now ours as well… You can tell our people the war is over… We'll stay here for one month to recover and replenish the small scorpions… There is still one more Godforsaken Land to conquer…"

***

Silverwood Realm, Staghelm City.

The Fallen Angel blinked in and out of existence, and the Moon Elf, Isilra, had no way of predicting where it would appear next, or what form its attack would take.

"Such talent, such ethereal grace. A Moon Elf like you could drive countless men to madness," the Witch's voice echoed, channeled through her avatar. "Surrender, Isilra."

"I can promise you, submit to me, and I will spare every innocent life in Staghelm City." The Fallen Angel avatar was far more agile, its power more versatile than the six-armed serpent-demon the Witch had used before. It was, of course, just as beautiful.

"The words of the Fallen are poison," Isilra retorted, her voice as crisp as winter air. "You have brought nothing but ruin to our world. Your flowery promises and feigned concern are the greatest lies of all. They disgust me."

She loosed another bolt. After the Fallen Angel phased past it, the bolt of moonlight suddenly hooked back, homing in on the Witch's back. But the avatar's wings flared, unleashing a hurricane of shadow and Abyssal energy that slammed into the bolt, deflecting it harmlessly.

"Have it your way, then," the Witch sighed through the angel's lips. "Such a shame to have to ruin a perfectly good vessel."

ROAR!

In that split second of distraction, the great white tiger Isilra rode let out a concussive roar. The sound wave carried a stunning force, and the Witch suddenly found her Fallen Angel avatar frozen in place.

In that instant, dozens of moonlight bolts materialized in the void, forming a complete, inescapable cage around the Fallen Angel. With a chorus of high-pitched shrieks, they converged.

"Damn it… I should have known," the Witch cursed. "This is your home turf. The moonlight answers to you!"

The bolts all struck home, exploding in a blinding flash. But when the light faded, the Fallen Angel stood completely unscathed.

And from it, an entirely new level of power radiated outwards.

"That aura…" Isilra breathed, her eyes wide with shock. "It's a demigod's!"

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