Chapter 1139: Every world has its own rules

“Leonidas has plenty of avatars, Orion. You don’t need to worry about him,” Arthas’s message came through, direct and to the point. “Besides, once you get established in the Abyss, you should lay low. It’s not a place you want to stir up. You start poking around, and you’ll attract every nasty thing hiding in the woodwork. Just guard your own territory and build it up.”

The advice was sound, and Orion knew it. He had barely set foot on the second layer and had already flushed out a mysterious, unknown demigod. Messing with someone else’s slice of the pie was a good way to get stabbed with a steak knife.

“Which layer are you planning to settle on?” Arthas asked.

Leonidas wasn’t the only one with a foothold in the Abyss. All the comrades in the Champions Alliance had one, scattered across different layers. They were strategic outposts, but also convenient sources for materials and resources unique to the Abyss.

“The sixth. Do any of the comrades have territory there?” Orion asked, a flicker of concern in his mind. He was starting to guess why Arthas was asking, worried that his chosen spot might clash with one of their existing claims.

“No, the sixth is clear. The Champions Alliance has no presence there,” Arthas replied. “I thought you’d aim for a higher-dimensional layer.”

In fact, the intel Alexander had given him about the Abyssal Springhead was a subtle hint, a suggestion that Orion should establish his beachhead on the sixth layer.

“You’re kidding, bro,” Orion sent back. “I might have the personal strength for it, but the Stoneheart Horde doesn’t have the muscle to hold its ground in the deeper Abyss.”

He knew the limits of his forces better than anyone. Besides himself and the ancient giant-horned whale, he didn’t have a third arch lord-level combatant to his name. Pushing deeper wasn’t something you could just decide to do. Even with his two mirror image avatars and the Death-Soul tendrils, it wouldn’t be enough. If it were, he wouldn’t have had to pull out of the war with the Cult of Four and dump all that pressure back onto his comrades.

“So, what do you really want?” Arthas’s knack for cutting through the bullshit was as sharp as ever. He knew this wasn’t just a courtesy call about Leonidas.

Orion confessed. “When I was on the second layer helping Makareth clear out a Demondrake arch lord, I drew out a demigod. I don’t know if he’s the Ruler of the second layer, and I’m worried it might bring trouble down on Makareth’s head. I also wanted to get your take on the Abyss in general, specifically any intel you have on the Abyssal Rulers.”

Even though Makareth had the Deputy Commander watching his back, Orion was the one who had stirred the pot. He didn’t want Makareth to end up on some demigod’s hit list because of it. The incident had made him realize just how little he truly knew about this place. He was here to pick Arthas’s brain.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Arthas replied, immediately easing Orion’s primary concern. “The Ruler of any given layer of the Abyss is at least a demigod fourth stage being. They don’t interfere in squabbles between lords.”

With a single sentence, he had also given Orion his first piece of solid intel.

“The reason is simple: ‘Abyssal Ruler’ is a divine calling. As the Ruler, the entire layer they manage is their territory.”

Orion was confused. If the whole layer was their territory, why did they let other creatures occupy it and fight all over the place?

“Confusing, isn’t it?” Arthas seemed to read his mind.

“Yeah.”

“Think of it this way,” Arthas explained, his precision uncanny. “The Abyssal Ruler owns a cake shop. But he has no bakers. His shop can’t actually make any cakes.”

It clicked instantly for Orion. “Bro, are you saying that we, the abyssal lords, are the bakers? We’re making the cakes for the Ruler?”

“Yes, and no,” Arthas corrected, cutting off Orion’s self-satisfied conclusion. “The lords aren’t just making cakes for the Ruler; they’re making cakes for themselves, too. The Ruler provides the shop and the raw ingredients. A portion of the cake the baker makes belongs to the baker, and a portion belongs to the Ruler. By the same token, have you not noticed that not all of the faith generated by your territory actually ends up in your hands?”

The words sent Orion deep into thought. He knew it was true. At best, he only ever received about seventy percent of the faith his people produced. A portion flowed to the gods and ancestors of the giant tribe, and another portion seemed to vanish to other, unknown entities.

Son of a bitch, Orion cursed internally. It feels like no matter where I go, I’m getting exploited. He felt like he was caught in an invisible net of rules, binding him at every turn.

“That’s normal. Every world has its own rules,” Arthas’s voice was calm, as if he’d had this exact same thought a long time ago. “If you want to escape that system, you have to build your own Divine Kingdom. The faith generated inside a Divine Kingdom is one hundred percent yours.”

He had seen right through Orion again.

“But back to the topic. The first rule of Abyssal Rulers: they are, at minimum, demigod fourth stage or higher.”

“Rule two: the deeper the layer, the stronger the Ruler.”

“Rule three: a Ruler can be challenged. If you win, you will be empowered by the planar will of that layer of the Abyss.”

“Rule four: a Ruler is forbidden from participating in the internal conflicts of their own layer.”

“Rule five: Rulers can challenge each other. The strong occupy the higher-dimensional layers.”

“Rule six: there is definitely a sixth rule, but I don’t know what it is.”

The five rules Arthas laid out were a massive eye-opener for Orion.

“So, here’s the question,” Arthas said, as if he were getting tired of lecturing. “Why do you think these powerful beings fight over the position of Abyssal Ruler in the first place?”

“To collect faith and comprehend world essence,” Orion answered instantly. It was the obvious answer, and he was sure it was correct.

“That’s a passing grade, at best,” Arthas shot back. “In reality, the Abyssal Rulers couldn’t care less about those benefits. The specifics are above my pay grade, but I heard the commander mention it once. The Abyss is a chaotic-aligned world. By ruling a layer, one can harness its chaotic essence to hasten the condensation of their Divine Spark and the forging of their divine body.”

Honestly, if Orion hadn’t asked, it was a secret he might not have learned for a very long time.

“It’s not a true secret, though,” Arthas added, once again preempting his thoughts. “If you manage to ascend to demigod rank while in the Abyss, you’ll learn about it sooner or later.”

Orion felt like he was completely transparent whenever he talked to Arthas.

“Now, let me give you one last piece of advice. In the Abyss, until you are invincible, don’t go looking for trouble, but don’t be afraid of it either. Understand?”

Don’t look for trouble: focus on growing stronger and reaching the demigod rank.

Don’t be afraid of it: because the Champions Alliance had his back. He wasn’t fighting alone.