Chapter 1201: A Ruler’s Burden
Save all of giant-kin?
Orion couldn’t. He had neither the right nor the reputation to even try. All he could do was gather those he encountered, those willing to follow him, and give them a better life. A life spent as the gears in his war machine.
A powerful giant piloting a Death-Soul avatar, one who has earned the fealty of Scourge Wardens, Valacar thought, the pieces clicking into place. Orion’s value in his strategic calculus was rising by the second.
To a being like Valacar, pedigree was everything. Giants were not a top-tier race in the Abyss, but they were a major one—populous, with footholds across countless planes. It was a simple calculation: if Orion established a permanent stronghold, the giants of this entire plane would, in all likelihood, flock to his banner.
In the ga of thrones played by demigods, one did not suffer rivals of the sa blood on one’s own territory. It was the sa reason every vampire in Mosela Citadel, regardless of their original branch, answered to Valacar. Here, he was the absolute authority.
This ant Orion’s faction had a legitimate path to becoming a major power, Valacar concluded.
That single conclusion opened up a world of possibilities. Valacar now knew exactly how to proceed with this conversation, and how much he should reveal. More importantly, he needed to consider how to turn this eting into a genuine friendship. This wasn’t the desperate pandering of a lesser being; for a demigod, this was the cultivation of assets, of a network. This was expanding the reach of Mosela Citadel.
Orion’s presence here was rely an avatar; his true form existed elsewhere, outside the Abyss. That ant he had another domain, another power base. A continent, perhaps. An entire world, even. Valacar didn’t know the extent of Orion’s resources, but he could see the imnse opportunity. Opening a trade route with a world beyond the Abyss... the benefits to Mosela Citadel would be incalculable.
"Orion, the Unhallowed are the sin of the Abyss made manifest," Valacar resud, his voice low and serious. "Their purpose is to consu all life, to unmake this reality."
Orion’s brow furrowed. The statent felt contradictory. Surely, the destruction of the Abyss was a goal for the self-proclaid paragons of the outer light. To be told the Abyss was destroying itself felt... absurd.
"Light casts a shadow. Does it not?" Valacar said with a faint smile, steering Orion back to their initial philosophical agreent.
Comprehension dawned on Orion’s face. "You’re speaking of dualism. If this world, the Abyss, is ’light’... then the Unhallowed are its ’darkness’?" he extrapolated. "A cosmic balance? As the Abyss evolves and grows, the Unhallowed exist to cull and destroy?"
"Not ’if,’ Orion. Our world is the light," Valacar corrected gently. "Every world is a form of light. The distinction between the Abyss and the realms beyond is a matter of perspective, nothing more."
Orion raised his goblet in a silent salute. The old vampire’s wisdom and worldview far exceeded his expectations for a denizen of the Abyss. It was true what they said: the longer you live, the deeper the truths you perceive.
"So the Unhallowed are powerful," Orion surmised, "so powerful that all other life in the Abyss requires the protection of a demigod?"
Valacar nodded, a pleased expression on his face as he refilled Orion’s goblet again. It had been a long, long ti since he’d had a conversation this stimulating.
He felt a strange kinship with Orion, the illusion of an old friend, a kindred spirit. They were equals in power, in station, and it seed, in worldview. They could easily be friends. For now, at least.
"You are the most astute giant I have ever t, Orion," Valacar said. "I have encountered giants on the higher planes, beings far stronger than you. But they were not... conversational. Nor were they particularly rational. Their power afforded them the luxury of believing that violence is the only true solution to any problem."
It wasn’t a slight, but a statent of respect for that kind of overwhelming power. In the Abyss, only those with the strength to back it up could afford to live by such a simple creed.
Valacar clinked his goblet against Orion’s. Orion just shrugged, a silent acknowledgnt that he was different.
"Periodically, beginning on the very first plane, the Abyss undergoes a transformation," Valacar continued, his smile finally vanishing. His expression beca intensely grave, his eyes flickering as if haunted by terrible mories. "The world turns gray. Rember that word, Orion. Not dark. Gray."
"The Graying is a fundantal rule of this reality. When it descends, life withers. It is the beginning of the Lant of All Souls. When the Graying cos, the Unhallowed manifest across the plane. They consu and corrupt every living thing they encounter, their only goal to render the world into absolute, silent ash."
Valacar took a long drink, his composure slowly returning.
"Many planes of the Abyss have already been lost to them," he said quietly. "The weakest of the Unhallowed are on the level of an archlord. To encounter one at the demigod-level... is common."
The word common sent a tremor through Orion’s very core.
"Lord Valacar, if they are that powerful, how do any of the lower-level species survive?" Orion asked. From the first plane to the fifth, he had seen no shortage of life. His own armies had enslaved countless lesser beings for labor and cannon fodder.
"When the Graying descends, the Abyssal Ruler of that plane manifests," Valacar explained. "He leads the charge, rallying the strongest of us to engage the Unhallowed who are demigods or greater. Even so, countless archlord-level Unhallowed slip through the cracks and scatter across the world. In those tis, any who cannot resist are simply devoured. Annihilated."
It all made sense now. Hearing the divine calling of ’Abyssal Ruler’ again, Orion finally understood. To enjoy the power a plane of the Abyss afforded you was to also bear its greatest burden.
"And what if the Abyssal Ruler is defeated?" Orion leaned forward, his voice dropping. "What if he dies in battle? I’m speaking hypothetically, of course..."
He held Valacar’s gaze, waiting for the demigod to confirm the terrifying suspicion that was already forming in his mind.
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