Compared to the grim struggle in the Abyss, Orionâs original self, holding the line in Stoneheart, was having a much better time. He was, in fact, experiencing one of lifeâs great milestones: his wedding night.
Though this was hardly his first time with the Moon Elf Isilra, the moment lost none of its intoxicating novelty. It was a fundamentally different feeling, like the simple, undeniable pleasure of tasting something for the first time.
On the massive bed, Isilra was slick with sweat, her skin flushed a deep crimson. After Orionâs final, shuddering push, they collapsed into each otherâs arms.
"I feel... different," she murmured, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She seemed softer now, more gentle than before. It was as if consummating their union had completed some missing piece of her, rounding out the edges of her soul.
"You do," he agreed, his voice a low rumble. "Youâre even more beautiful." It wasnât just a platitude; he meant it.
"No, thatâs not what I mean." She buried her face in his chest, burrowing into his embrace.
Orion slid his hand down the curve of her back, resting it on her hip. He didnât understand.
"My body," she whispered. "Itâs changed. I can feel a new life. Itâs so faint, but I know itâs there."
She took his large hand, guiding it down to her flat stomach.
The meaning hit him like a physical blow. If he didnât get it now, he was denser than a block of granite.
"Are you... Are you serious? Youâre pregnant? With our child?"
It was unbelievable. Heâd been with Lilith, Delilah, Lumi, Soraya, Lysinthia, Sylvana, Lycanor, and Marina countless times. They were all stunning, none of them shy in bed, but not a single one had ever conceived. The only truly natural pregnancy had been with Princess Ava, a reluctant stroke of luck for them both.
And now, Isilra.
Orion rolled over, pinning her beneath him. He lowered his face until they were nose to nose, their eyes locked. "Tell me youâre not messing with me."
Her response was a fierce, passionate kiss.
That kiss led to another two hours of frenzied, joyous celebration.
"Youâve learned some new tricks," Orion said much later, holding her as if she were a priceless artifact he might accidentally crush.
The union of a giantâs bloodline with that of a Moon Elf was something he had never truly considered possible. Their child... there was a very real chance it would be born with demigod-level talent.
"In a few days, weâre going back to your home," he declared. "Weâll have another ceremony in Staghelm City. I want every last resident to know that their cityâs ruler, their Elven Queen, their goddess, is my wife."
He felt an overwhelming urge to stake his claim, to shout it from the rooftops. Isilra, for her part, was like a little girl trying ice cream for the first timeâsurprised and utterly delighted by a sweetness she had stumbled into by accident. This marriage was nothing like she had imagined. It was, she realized, so much happier.
But the celebration wasnât confined to their chambers. The wedding, an event that had shaken the entire continent, sparked a city-wide festival. Orion had cleared the main thoroughfare from the castle gates to the colosseum, setting up a feast that ran for three days and three nights.
Fueled by the occasion, Stoneheart descended into a joyous madness. Not only was the food free for all, but every person in the city was given a complimentary voucher for gambling chips at the colosseum. In Nicoâs public proclamations, it was a "blessing from the giant-king." Privately, it was his masterstroke to cement the colosseumâs reputation. Either way, the fat man gave every citizen a taste of the thrill, on the house. In reality, the free chips were paid for by the massive pots wagered by the true gamblers. The colosseum itself didnât spend a single Blackstone coin.
Meanwhile, the great lords and masters of the various factions, having been treated to Orionâs hospitality and privately relieved by his peaceful declarations, were satisfied. They signed their pacts, took in the sights of the burgeoning city, and departed one by one. For archlord-level powerhouses, traveling between worlds was trivial. A city like Stoneheart was impressive, but not entirely unique in their experience.
For the merchants, travelers, mercenaries, and common folk, however, the party was just getting started. The sheer volume of traffic Orionâs wedding brought to the city was an economic explosion. Residents who were previously just getting by suddenly saw opportunity everywhere. The wedding was just the spark; the true fire was the dawn of Stoneheartâs prosperity.
***
The second layer of the Abyss, Vigilâs Point.
Staring at the monster that had appeared on the horizon, Orion felt a cold dread snake up his spine. It was beyond shocking; it was terrifying.
The creatureâs aura registered only at the peak of the archlord rank, but its physical form blotted out half the sky. It was easily half a mile tall. To call it a monster felt laughably inadequate. This was a walking cataclysm. This was an Unhallowed.
"Mak, raise the shield! Youâre on ward duty," Orion snapped. "Donât lower it for any reason until Iâm back."
He didnât wait for a reply, ignoring the slack-jawed expressions on Makareth and Delilahâs faces. They had never seen anything so massive. The Abyss was known for spawning monstrosities, but this... this was in another category entirely.
"How... how do you even fight that?" Makareth managed to say, shaking himself from his stupor. A familiar sense of powerlessness washed over him. Without Orion here, he knew he would stand no chance against such a being. You couldnât just throw forbidden-tier spells at something like this. The thingâs very movements were forbidden-tier spells.
As if to prove the point, Orion shot into the air, the trident Spite of the Wrathful Star materializing in his hand. He channeled its innate fire magic, unleashing a roaring dragon of pure, white-hot flame that streaked toward the Unhallowed.
The spell, which could incinerate armies in a normal battle, struck the creature and vanished with all the impact of a lit match flicked against a manâs chest. A minor annoyance, easily brushed aside.
Orion halted his charge, hovering in mid-air, staring up at the colossal being. He had no idea where to even begin.
Without another moment of hesitation, Orion began the chant for Blood Sacrifice.
After a brief prayer, a thick, roiling cloud of crimson mistâraw blood and life forceâenveloped him. Within that cloud, the phantom image of a sky-spanning giant roared in defiance. Orionâs own body began to expand, growing at an explosive rate until he stood three thousand yards tall.
But three thousand yards, against half a mile, was still a ridiculous mismatch.