Chapter 1036: Final Offer
On the battlefield, the sandstorm raged. Through the swirling grit and chaos, the silhouettes of small scorpions could still be seen throwing themselves at the enemy, sowing confusion and buying precious ti for the undead armies.
The longer the war of attrition dragged on, the more terrifying the advantage of the undead beca. While the mortal sand scorpions and the Gnasher Race’s beasts grew weary, the undead armies fought on, tireless and relentless. With Orion and Arthas drawn into their own high-stakes battles, command of the ground war had fallen to their undead lieutenants, who orchestrated countless localized skirmishes. Legendary-level Gnasher beasts were actively hunting key commanders like Bone White, Bone Red, and Vexis. They had already claid a casualty in Rumbold, cut down by a flanking arch lord. Whether Arthas could resurrect him remained to be seen.
High above this maelstrom, Orion was taking a beating.
The Matriarch Jynara was relentless, forcing his Deathly Soul-Reaper form into a vicious cycle of destruction and regeneration that was rapidly approaching its breaking point. Finally, with one last overwhelming onslaught, the Deathly Soul-Reaper exploded, dissolving into nothing.
"Truly an invincible foe," a voice mused from a distance.
Outside the area of the Voidlock, the Deathly Soul-Reaper reappeared, completely unscathed. Orion stared at Jynara. This broodmother, he thought, is easily in the top tier of all arch lords. In all his experience, he would have considered her unbeatable by any of her peers.
But then again, so was he. It was still anyone’s ga.
"Impossible!" Jynara shrieked, her shock mirroring Orion’s assessnt. "How can you be unhard?"
She had felt it. She had felt his form break and shatter under her fists. The tactile feedback, the raw sensation of annihilation, could not have been faked. He was well and truly dead.
"In this world," Orion’s voice echoed, "nothing is impossible."
A phantom scythe flashed through the void. This ti, Orion’s blade targeted the eight heads writhing from Jynara’s chest. His logic was simple: destroying them should significantly weaken her.
ROAR!
The eight heads scread in unison, projecting an invisible shield of pure sound that deflected the phantom scythes. At the sa ti, Jynara and her grotesque attachnts teleported, closing the distance to Orion once more.
"Cage of Spines!" she hissed.
The mont she appeared, the bone spurs on her back detached, fanning out like the petals of a corpse flower and wrapping around the Deathly Soul-Reaper, imprisoning him. Imdiately, the eight heads flew out, re-establishing their Voidlock and unleashing another soul-shattering howl.
It was the exact sa combo as before, and once again, it trapped him. Jynara’s fists and weapons rained down, and the Deathly Soul-Reaper was thrown back into a state of passive endurance. But through it all, its silver eyes showed not a single flicker of panic.
In the highest reaches of the sky, the war of demigods continued.
They stood within a pocket reality forged by their own warring laws, a statue and a phantom, facing each other in stillness. Though they were not trading physical blows, the clash of their divine power had been raging since the mont they t.
"Withdraw now," the statue’s voice intoned, its stone lips unmoving, its expression blank. "And perhaps we can still be allies."
"You expect
to leave empty-handed?" Arthas’s voice was ice. There was nothing to discuss.
"Leave, agree to help
defend this Godforsaken Land, and I will grant you a tenth of the black gold." The statue knew precisely what treasures the land held, and it knew why a demigod like Arthas had co.
"A tenth?" Arthas sneered, a sword of pure white bone coalescing in his hand as he amplified his power. "Is that supposed to be a serious offer?"
The statue was unfazed. "Two-tenths, then. That is my final offer. This is the territory of the Gnasher Race. Don’t overplay your hand."
"I have no interest in your two-tenths," Arthas declared, leveling his bone-forged sword at the statue. "Once I drive you out, this land and all the black gold in it will be mine."
"Hmph. You don’t appreciate a generous offer," the statue bood, its own divine power flaring to match his. "Do you truly believe I fear you?"
Heh.
And the silent, brutal struggle between the two demigods resud with renewed intensity.
Silverwood Realm, The Stillness.
Led by Caesar, a delegation of Wood Elves—Aerin, Xylia, Angel, and another newcor—erged from the castle to et with Orion.
"My lord," Xylia began, her voice respectful but firm, "why have you ordered a halt to the rescue of our people?"
Orion said nothing at first. He looked at the anxious expression on Xylia’s face, then to Angel and the other elf, who shared the sa look of confusion and barely concealed anger. In recent weeks, their rescue efforts had been effective, swelling the number of Wood Elf refugees in the camp to over a thousand. But compared to the hundred-thousand-strong tribe they once were, it was a painfully small fraction.
"I am not stopping the rescue, nor am I abandoning the Wood Elf race," he finally said.
Of the group, only Aerin remained calm. She said nothing, her trust in Orion absolute. She had already tried to explain the situation to her people before they ca, but she knew they wouldn’t be convinced until they heard it from the man himself. For many of the Wood Elves, Orion was a commander, not yet a leader. They felt no deep-seated trust and, therefore, little reverence.
"Outside the Forest of Nature, the demonic monsters are gathering in force," Orion explained, sitting calmly before them. "In half a month at most, their search will lead them to our gates. The Stillness is about to face a defensive battle that will decide the fate of every single person here."
He let that sink in.
"An innurable horde of demonic monsters is closing in. At a ti like this, we must stand united and repel the enemy. The plan to rescue your people has only been paused."
This was his decision. He was willing to be patient with the Wood Elves, a race that had pledged allegiance but had not yet given him their trust. He would allow them to question him, even doubt him, during these early days of building their new ho.
He took a sip of tea, his eyes scanning their faces before his tone shifted.
"Besides, consider this: for the next few weeks, The Stillness will be drawing the vast majority of the enemy’s attention. For your people still hiding in the forest, they will actually be safer."
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