"So, you know exactly how powerful the Insect Queen truly is?" Orion’s voice echoed, flat and entirely devoid of emotion. "Or rather, is she so overwhelmingly powerful that even your faction fears her? Interesting."

Vaelian didn’t bother refuting the deduction. The cloaked figure simply withdrew his gaze from Lilith’s brow, the sharp, predatory edge of his presence retreating beneath his heavy black cowl.

"Heh... As the Mother of the Swarm, a supreme entity on the absolute precipice of the Fourth Stage, she is invincible in this era where the true heavyweights remain hidden." Vaelian’s voice dropped, carrying a strange, almost self-mocking cadence, as if emphasizing the sheer, suffocating gravity of the situation.

"Giant King, without our aid, you have absolutely zero chance of defeating her. The ultimate fate of you and your Stoneheart Horde will be total assimilation. You will be wiped out by the swarm. And when that happens, we won’t get a slice of the pie either. This entire world will be swallowed and transformed into her Divine Kingdom."

The grand hall fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

Orion had finally received confirmation: the Insect Queen was a supreme powerhouse bordering on the Fourth Stage. Even though he had harbored his suspicions, hearing it stated as undeniable fact still struck him like a physical blow. This time, the enemy he faced was a genuine nightmare.

That disgusting, filthy mongrel. A surge of venomous hatred and fury boiled in Orion’s chest. It was entirely directed at Clown. Getting utterly blindsided and played by that bastard had left a toxic, unbearable resentment festering inside him, begging for a release.

Find him. Butcher him.

"Your Grace," Vaelian’s voice broke through Orion’s dark thoughts. "Before the dust settles on this grand board, we possess a method to amplify your authority over this realm. Even if you ultimately fall in battle, it will buy your Stoneheart Horde enough time to survive."

It was the distinct, beguiling stench of manipulation. Orion was intimately familiar with that tone.

"Naturally, we stand to reap substantial benefits in the process," Vaelian continued openly, unapologetically. "We will seize the opportunity to plant our roots firmly in this realm, which will most likely ignite a new era of conflict."

He spoke with absolute candor. They were paying a price, and they expected a massive return on their investment.

"Hehehe... So your grand plan is to watch the Stoneheart Horde and the swarm bleed each other dry, and once both sides are crippled, you swoop in to pick the bones clean?" Orion retorted coldly. "There are no good Samaritans in this world."

It wasn’t paranoia; it was the brutal reality laid bare on the table. In the eyes of these hidden players, Orion and the Stoneheart Horde were nothing but pawns. If Orion wanted to claim this newborn world, he had to accept being used as a piece on their board.

"Your Grace, everyone paves their own road," Vaelian replied with supreme confidence. "When to march forward, when to halt, and when to reach out and snap the neck of the bastard blocking your path—those are choices you must make for yourself. Who ultimately claims the prize depends entirely on whose hands are the bloodiest. Am I wrong, Giant King?"

Vaelian’s smile was brazen. He had laid it all out: this was never a partnership of trust between the Profane Lands and the Stoneheart Horde. It was a mutual exploitation pact. As for who would successfully stab the other in the back and walk away with the spoils? That came down to pure ruthlessness and vision.

"You’re absolutely right," Orion conceded. "The final victor is yet to be decided. Until the dust settles, we are all just beasts of burden dragging the plow."

At Orion’s words, Vaelian’s grotesque smile widened. The Giant King’s acknowledgment meant he was willing to play ball. The geopolitical landscape of this newborn world was shifting exactly as Vaelian had orchestrated.

"Now," Orion’s tone grew decidedly grave and commanding. "Tell me exactly what gives you the confidence to believe a First-Stage Demigod like me can stand toe-to-toe with the Insect Queen."

Now that an understanding was reached, Orion cut to the chase. The only reason he had tolerated Vaelian spouting such arrogant rhetoric in his own throne room was specifically to uncover this exact trump card.

"Rest assured, Giant King. We will not disappoint you."

From beneath Vaelian’s dark cloak, a single page forged of black gold drifted out, hovering perfectly still in the air before him. It was a scripture leaf, its material resembling neither paper nor silk. A profound, dark-gold divine radiance bled from within it, suspending the page on the infinite threshold between light and shadow, blurring the lines between reality and the void.

Orion didn’t even need to guess; this was no mortal artifact. Radiating from that single leaf was an overwhelming, suffocating sense of divinity—and an intensely lethal premonition of danger.

"The Chapter of the Profane," Vaelian announced. "An ancient scripture born from our Profane Lands. It is naturally manifested from primordial dark matter and can seamlessly integrate into any physical substance." Vaelian paused, his chest puffing out with perverse pride. "Of course, this is merely a fragmented page."

He showed absolutely zero shame in offering a broken artifact; if anything, he looked overwhelmingly arrogant about it.

"What does it do?" Orion demanded, a trace of urgent anticipation bleeding into his voice.

"Giant King, this fragment of the Profane Chapter holds a secret art that seamlessly fuses your divine power laws into the foundational cosmic laws of the world itself," Vaelian explained, his tone dropping into a fanatical, reverent whisper. He reached out, gently caressing the hovering page. The dark, eerie light reflected in his mismatched eyes, shining like the coldest stars in the deep cosmos. "Through this art, a mere First-Stage Demigod can prematurely seize the absolute authority of World Domination."

Orion scowled. He could see it plainly: in this moment, Vaelian was completely intoxicated, bordering on sheer madness. To Orion, this looked less like a divine gift and much more like a parasitic curse—a hex laid down by ancient, unfathomable dark gods.

"If I taint myself with this thing, won’t it just draw the gaze of even more terrifying entities?" Orion asked, his voice laced with heavy skepticism. He treated the unknown artifact with extreme, calculated caution.

"What? Does Your Grace doubt its power?" Sensing Orion’s visceral rejection, Vaelian snapped his head up, glaring at Lilith with a demanding, questioning stare.

Lilith remained dead silent. The phantom will of Orion anchored within her offered no response either.

"Hehehe... To exercise World Domination is to prematurely unlock the capacity to construct a Divine Kingdom. It grants you a fraction of the absolute authority normally reserved for the Divine Calling Stage," Vaelian elaborated, desperately trying to persuade the Giant King while defending the honor of his sacred relic. "Only by wielding the power of the Divine Calling Stage will you even have the right to stand in the same arena as the Insect Queen."

In Vaelian’s fanatic eyes, the Chapter of the Profane was an untouchable, blasphemous holy relic.

"You cannot even begin to comprehend it," Vaelian whispered, tracing the page with a trembling, obsessed hand. "Every single rune, every jagged stroke carved into this fragmented leaf contains the majestic, supreme power of absolute cosmic law. Legend has it that whoever fully deciphers the runes upon this page will pierce the ultimate veil of reality and ascend to the absolute zenith in a single stride."

Vaelian’s obsession deepened with every word. To Orion, this unhinged display was deeply unnatural. It was pure, horrifying fanaticism—the kind that made a man’s blood run cold.