Kraken turned his head, a wide, gleaming grin splitting his face. It was a smile full of teeth and unadulterated malice.

Oh, this feels good.

This feels damn good.

There was nothing quite like the rush of being the underdog one minute, only to turn around and curb-stomp the bully the next. And the fact that the bully in question was the Witch—the traitor of the Champions Alliance, his so-called "senior"—made the victory taste like ambrosia.

For years, Kraken had been playing second fiddle, maneuvering in the shadows while the big players like the Witch looked down on him. But today? Today, he had looked them in the eye and watched them blink.

He realized something profound in that moment. He could surpass them. Given enough time, he wouldn't just be playing their game; he'd be running the table.

"Are you ready to pay the price?" Kraken asked, his voice smooth but cutting.

The Witch said nothing. Her gaze was fixed on the water, where the Cult's Demigod-level puppet was being systematically dismantled by the Abyssal Dreadfin.

It proved one undeniable fact: Orion was stronger than the Clown.

In Kraken's mind, this was a proxy war. If Orion crushed the Clown, it meant Kraken had crushed the Witch.

"Hahaha!"

"Yes! Wreck him!"

"Traitor scum!"

Deep within the palace, Leonidas was practically bouncing off the walls. As soon as the warship's hull had been torn open to reveal the Clown, Leonidas had recognized the traitor instantly.

Seeing the Abyssal Dreadfin pin the Clown down like a bug was the highlight of his year. He wanted to swim out there and throw a punch himself.

"Is it really this easy?" Orion murmured, watching the scene unfold through his connection with the beast.

He hadn't even unleashed his full power. He had simply boosted the Dreadfin's natural gravitational abilities to the baseline of a First Step Demigod.

And yet, the Clown was buckling.

Am I really this strong?

Orion knew he was powerful, but he hadn't realized the gap was this wide. He was effortlessly suppressing a former member of the Champions Alliance.

ROAR!

The Dreadfin bellowed, sensing its master's intent. Orion poured a little more divine energy into the connection.

The gravitational field intensified.

The Clown's puppet body began to crack like porcelain. Light leaked from the fissures. Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the avatar disintegrated into sparkling dust.

"If this is the best the Cult of Four can offer," the Dreadfin's voice boomed, deep and ancient, echoing Orion's words, "then Atlantis has no reason to submit."

The massive beast faded into the water, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Silence fell over the bay.

"Envoy Nym'zarith," Kraken said softly, breaking the tension. "As you can see, my stalling wasn't hesitation. It was caution."

"The Cult is strong, yes. But Atlantis is not toothless."

"Forgive my bluntness, but showing up with that level of power? It's not enough. Frankly, it's insulting."

Orion had played his part perfectly. He had terrified them without killing the Witch, leaving the door open for negotiation while simultaneously proving that Atlantis held the bigger stick.

The Clown's destroyed avatar was just collateral damage—a slap in the face the Cult would have to swallow.

"Safe travels, Envoy," Kraken said, turning his back on her. He walked away with a swagger that screamed arrogance.

The Witch stared at his retreating back. She saw the lift in his step, the unbridled pride radiating off him. She didn't say a word. She couldn't. She and the Clown had lost face completely.

She ripped a teleportation scroll in half and vanished in a flash of light.

Atlantis, Inner Sanctum

When Kraken strolled into the main hall, Leonidas was already pouring drinks.

"Hahaha! Squiddy, that walk-off was legendary!" Leonidas cheered, handing him a goblet. "You looked like a king. Seriously, give this man an Oscar."

They clinked glasses. Even though Leonidas hadn't thrown a punch, watching the Witch get humiliated was satisfaction enough.

"Hulk is on another level, though," Kraken admitted, taking a long drink. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it was the same guy."

The high was wearing off, replaced by a familiar, bittersweet pang.

"Every dog has his day," Leonidas said, clapping a heavy hand on Kraken's shoulder. "Who knows? Maybe tomorrow you stumble on some ancient relic and ascend overnight."

It was a comfort, but they both knew the truth.

Orion was leaving them behind. His growth curve was insane, rivaling even their old Commander Thresh. It was terrifying.

Why did they think Alexander was enduring the hell of Asura body refining? Why was Arthas risking his soul to chase the Lord of Hell title? Why was Leonidas babysitting World Dragon eggs?

Because Orion was setting a pace that threatened to make them all irrelevant.

The gap in their foundations was massive. Those World Dragon eggs Orion had secured early on had compounded his growth in ways Kraken couldn't easily replicate.

"Don't worry, Kraken," Orion said, raising his glass. "Once we lock down this ocean, I'm taking us to a new battlefield."

He was already plotting the invasion of Eldoria.

Orion knew that the Titanion Realm was heading for a catastrophe in the coming decades. The Stoneheart Horde would be tied up defending their home turf.

If he wanted to conquer Aina's world, he'd need a strike team.

"I'll need generals," Orion said, looking at his friends. "You, Leo. Maybe we drag Makareth, Isabella, and Tangere into it. Hell, if Caesar and Aerin want to tag along and loot some chaos, they're welcome too."

"Deal."

Leonidas and Kraken exchanged a look. Their eyes lit up. They understood. Orion wasn't just offering a fight; he was offering a path to power.

"But first," Orion said, his expression hardening. "About the Clown."

"Bro, his strength... it wasn't what the others said. He isn't just a Pseudo-Deity."

The room went quiet.

Orion had crushed the avatar, yes. But he had felt the resistance. The density of the divine energy inside that puppet suggested that the Clown's true body was far more formidable than the Witch's fragile, borrowed power.

"He's the real deal."

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