Garland City existed largely because of Violet and Caelus.
It was a monument built on Orionâs guilt.
In a palace garden teeming with rare magical flora, Orion stood beside the Miracle Divine Tree. He had brought the Deputy Commander here the moment he had awakened.
The goal was simple: Resurrection.
"The ambient mana here is weak," the Deputy Commander critiqued, his sharp gaze sweeping the surroundings. "It is insufficient for a ritual of this magnitude. If something goes wrong, the defensive wards wonât hold."
"Daddy, is my little brother really in there?"
Orion had brought Elara along. Not for the ritual itself, but because the Deputy Commander had insisted she return to the Valkorath Realm to resume her studies.
"Yes," Orion nodded, his gaze fixed on the swaying branches of the Divine Tree. "His name is Caelus."
The tree seemed to hum in response to his voice.
Elara reached out, her small hand pressing against the bark. She closed her eyes, sensing the life pulsing within.
"Daddy, thatâs funny," she giggled, opening her eyes wide. "Itâs not just one brother. Itâs two!"
Orion didnât speak. He had known for a long time that there were three consciousnesses gestating within the tree. What exactly had happened during the fusion process was a mystery, but the math was simple: Miracle Divine Tree + Spring of Life + Abyssal Springhead + World Fragments = Violetâs return.
Whatever the details were, he could just ask Violet when she woke up.
"Bring the tree to my tower," Edward ordered. "You have variety here, but you lack density. The elemental concentration isnât high enough."
He reached out and patted Elaraâs head with genuine affection. His little apprentice had already reached the Legendary level. She had developed some self-preservation skills now, which meant she was ready for the advanced curriculum.
The thought of molding the first Demigod apprentice brought a rare, gentle smile to the Deputy Commanderâs stern face.
"Mentor," Elara piped up, looking up at him with serious, blinking eyes. "I want to learn martial arts too. Iâm going to crush all the younglings in the Stoneheart Horde. Magic and melee."
The Deputy Commander paused, his hand still on her head. He looked over at Orion, his expression darkening slightly.
"Donât look at me," Orion shrugged, raising his hands in surrender. "This is news to me. I have no idea where she got this ambition."
"You are truly interested in martial combat?" the Deputy Commander asked, turning back to Elara.
He didnât dismiss her immediately. His wisdom went far deeper than Orionâs. For a normal mage, splitting focus was a death sentenceâa jack of all trades, master of none. But Elara was a World-Spirit. The normal rules didnât apply. Magic and muscle werenât her limits; they were just tools.
"Uh-huh!" Elara nodded vigorously. "Daddy promised me. When I become an Arch Lord, heâs going to give me a crown. A Queen canât conquer those big bloodline warriors if she canât beat them up, right?"
Edwardâs eyes lit up. He shot a sharp look at Orion.
"Youâre actually willing to do that?"
He assumed Orion meant to hand the entire Stoneheart Horde over to her.
Orion gave a wry smile, nodding and then shaking his head. He switched to telepathy to explain the actual deal:
It was supposed to be Arch Lord Peak, but sheâs conveniently negotiated it down to just Arch Lord.
Orion picked Elara up, placing her on his shoulder and ruffling her hair. The little girl grinned like a fox whoâd just raided the hen house.
"Actually, itâs not impossible,"
Orion transmitted back.
He had considered it. If he fell in battle before his own biological heirs matured, Elara was the best option. She was destined for Demigod status at a minimum. With her power, the Stoneheart Horde would enjoy a long era of peace.
But that was a contingency plan. A "break glass in case of emergency" scenario. Whether it was the best path for the faction depended on the geopolitical landscape decades from now.
"Weâll see," Orion concluded aloud.
Half a day later. Thunderhold.
This was the Deputy Commanderâs stronghold in the Valkorath Realm, housing a significant portion of his wealth and assets.
Compared to Orionâs utilitarian fortresses, Thunderhold was a beacon of civilization. Magic was everywhere. The architecture defied gravity, and mana formations hummed in the air. Even the street sweepers were enchanted brooms that worked autonomously.
Orion looked around, practically drooling with envy.
"Daddy, donât be jealous," Elara whispered, hugging his neck. "When I grow up, Iâll build a city just like this for you. Itâs actually super easy. That flying broom? Itâs just a basic Animation Charm spliced with a low-level Levitation Formation."
Orion chuckled, kissing her on the cheek. "Iâll hold you to that."
He pulled out a grape-sized crystal of World Essence and popped it into her mouth. Elaraâs eyes crinkled in delight as she chewed on the high-grade snack.
Moments later, they entered the Deputy Commanderâs private laboratory.
Elara made herself at home instantly. After a stern reminder from her mentor to finish her meditation drills, she reluctantly settled down to cultivate.
"Alright," Edward said, turning to Orion. "Show me the item you mentioned on the way here."
Orion didnât waste time. He pulled out the Relic-tier armor set gifted to him by Alveron, the Virtue Knight.
Eight pieces clattered onto the table: Shield, Weapon, Helm, Breastplate, Legguards, Gauntlets, and Sabatons.
The lab went quiet. The Deputy Commanderâs eyes gleamed with analytical fervor. He began dripping strange, alchemical reagents onto the metal, occasionally tearing apart priceless magical scrolls to catalyze reactions.
"Got it," he muttered suddenly.
He grabbed the helmet.
A ball of white-hot Divine Fire ignited in his palm, engulfing the helm. Under the intense purification, hidden magical circuits began to glow beneath the steel surface.
Fifteen minutes passed. The Divine Fire finally breached the helmâs inner sanctum.
With a hiss of escaping gas, a shimmering phantom burst forth from the hidden arcane runes.
"WHO... WHO DARES INTERFERE WITH MY PLAâ"
FZZZT!
The phantom didnât even finish its sentence. Edward swept his hand, and the Divine Fire incinerated the spirit instantly, reducing it to nothingness.
Only then did the Deputy Commander extinguish the flames and set the smoking helmet back on the table.