Orion had stacked the deck so thoroughly in her favor that Lysinthia held a hand no mere Legendary level fighter could hope to match.
Before her ascension, she hadn't truly grasped the scale of it. But now, standing as a Lord, the realization hit her: Orion's patronage was overwhelming. The artifacts, the weapons, the raw magical resources he had funneled to her—these were things the Medusa Queen couldn't even dream of.
"Agreed," Lycanor said, nodding slowly. She didn't bother hiding her envy, though it was without malice. "Orion is already operating on the level of a Demigod. The scraps that fall from his table are worth more than entire kingdoms to people like us."
Lycanor fingered a charm at her waist—one of several fail-safes Orion had gifted her. "If he gave me this much, I can only imagine what he gave you. You've been with him since the beginning, you little viper. He's been quietly arming you to the teeth for years."
