Chapter 1105: Playing with Fire
The Deputy Commander delivered the line flatly, betraying no emotion, but Orion heard what was hidden beneath the surface. It was the low hum of disappointment, of exhaustion, and he was hiding it well. But really, the simple fact that he hadnât announced a victory said it all.
âYou seem⊠different,â Arthas said, his eyes fixed on the Deathly Soul-Reaper. Although it still radiated the aura of a peak Archlord, he felt something else, a subtle sense of unease. To be precise, it was the kind of danger-sense a demigod feels when confronted by another demigod. It was faint, but it was there.
âYeah⊠Itâs a long story,â Orion replied. âI comprehended my Lordâs Stone. When I get back, I have some questions for you three comrades.â
Silence. A dead, profound stillness hung in the air.
âWhat did you just say?â Arthas finally asked, his voice sharp.
âYou heard me, bro,â Orion said. âThe fight with the Witch⊠it triggered something. I figured out my Lordâs Stone.â As he spoke, he casually lifted the scythe.
He didnât need to spell it out. Arthas, Alexander, and the Deputy Commander knew instantly what type of stone he had awakened.
âBut now I have even more questions about the path forward,â Orion continued. âIâŠâ
He was cut off by the Deputy Commander, who shot him a quick look that clearly meant walls have ears.
âWeâre returning to the Black Tower to rest,â the Deputy Commander said aloud. âYou can come find us anytime. For now, you hold the line here. Iâll send someone to relieve you shortly.â
Orion had no objections and nodded in agreement.
A moment later, a swirl of teleportation magic enveloped the three demigods, and they were gone. Orion was left alone, standing watch until his replacement arrived.
***
In the south, at the Cult of Fourâs Black Tower.
The return of the three Pontiffsâthe Clown, Konak, and Yrielâinstantly stabilized the precarious situation, making the tower as solid as a mountain once more.
âThe enemy is even stronger than we estimated,â Pontiff Yriel said, his brow furrowed. This was the second time he had lost to the Champions Alliance. The first time cost him a Black Tower; this time cost him a massive amount of divine power and faith.
âJack, Yriel, letâs send a joint request to the Archbishops for support,â Konak snarled. âI canât stomach this humiliation until weâve completely eradicated them.â He was seething. Before the war, he had openly mocked Yriel for his failures. Now, that mockery had come back to bite him, and it was a blow to his pride. His own tower had nearly been overrun because of it.
âI have no problem with that,â the Clown, Jack, said, hiding a surge of delight. Dragging an Archbishop into this mess was an opportunity he couldnât pass up.
âThen itâs settled. But before that,â Yriel added, âwe get rid of Staghelm City for daring to interfere.â
Konak had no objections to that, either. âOf course. That damn Moonwell demigod⊠this time, we will cripple her. Weâll drive her from this world so she canât jump out and threaten us ever again.â He spoke with venom, a plan already forming in his mind.
The three Pontiffs of the Cult of Four debated for a long time before finalizing their next move.
A day later, the Clown returned to his temporary quarters in the Black Tower. He sat on his chair and, out of habit, sank his consciousness into the Survivorâs Platform. As he expected, there was already a message from the Witch waiting for him.
Witch: I failed.
The Clown wasnât surprised.
Clown: Tell me. Whose will projection was the kid using?
In his mind, it was only natural that Orion would have the backing of one of the Champions Allianceâs big bosses. The three of them combined hadnât gained an advantage, so it was perfectly normal for the Witch to fail.
Witch: There was no demigod phantom. He beat me himself. His name is Orion, and he did it inside my Mirrored Sanctum. This person is dangerous. I have a feeling heâs going to be a massive problem for us down the line.
Her reply came quickly, and its contents stunned the Clown.
Clown: Youâre saying he beat you inside the Mirrored Sanctum?
He still had trouble believing it. He knew better than anyone how powerful that Divine Art was.
Witch: He didnât just beat me. He annihilated me. I felt the power of a higher rule.
She added the explanation, though she could hardly believe it herself.
Clown: Witch, your heart is in turmoil.
Seeing her reply, the Clown didnât press further about Orion. Instead, he moved to manage her.
Clown: Even if this rookie beat you in the sanctum, as you say, itâs not the end of the world. You only lost one avatar. That wasnât your true strength.
He knew just how powerful the Witch was. The teammate who had defected from the Champions Alliance with him would never have been invited to join that group, nor scouted by the Cult of Four, if she were weak.
Clown: And I can tell you this much: our clash with Arthas and the others was not a loss. If that demigod from Staghelm City hadnât interfered, the outcome would have been far from certain.
He had to admit, the battle had given him a much-needed confidence boost.
Witch: Whatâs the next move?
She didnât respond to his encouragement, instead cutting straight to business. The Clown didnât push it. He knew that sooner or later, she would fully embrace the Cult of Four.
Clown: Weâre sending a joint request for support from the Archbishops. If itâs approved, it will be enough to give our old friends in the Champions Alliance a world of trouble. Before that, weâre going to take down Staghelm City. You should get over here as soon as possible. Sufficient merit and a show of force is your ticket to a Pontiff promotion.
As he typed that, a venomous thought flashed through the Clownâs mind. If this conflict could draw out that powerful commander⊠maybe get him to kill one or two of the Cultâs Pontiffs, or even an Archbishop⊠then I could get some of my own people promoted into their positions.
It was a plan he couldnâtâand wouldnât dareâspeak aloud.
Witch: Youâre playing with fire, Clown.
She couldnât know the specifics, but she could guess the shape of his ambitions. She didnât call him out on it, though.
Clown: Youâre not going to tell me that if I play with fire, Iâll get burned, are you? Just try not to get caught in the blaze. Heh heh hehâŠ
He laughed, a wild, wicked sound. From the moment he chose to betray the Champions Alliance, heâd been playing with fire. And yet, here he was, still very much alive.
A long pause followed.
Witch: In three days, I will descend in another avatar. This time, Iâm bringing a demigod phantom with me. Itâs best to nip such disasters in the bud.
Clown: Good. Now thatâs the Witch I know.
He ended the conversation and logged out of the Survivorâs Platform, a flicker of an idea nagging at him. It was a vague premonition, a thought he couldnât quite grasp, but it left him feeling deeply unsettled.