Orion and the Primordial System

Orion sat on his imposing throne in the vast Meeting Hall, where the soft light from the large golden lamps reflected off the marble walls, creating a warm and welcoming glow. The throne, carved from pure gold and adorned with intricate details of a rare ice-blue material, highlighted the majesty of the Emperor. He wore a modern suit, made of glossy black fabric, with subtle touches of royal blue on the lapels, an innovative design that would surely become a trend in the empire from that day on.

His hair, a flaming red, fell disorderly over his shoulders, resembling an untamed flame. Despite appearing to be a careless hairstyle, each strand seemed strategically placed to highlight his power and charisma. Orion's face was a masterpiece, sculpted by divine perfection, and his eyes, two spheres of deep ice-blue, radiated calm and authority, penetrating the souls of those who dared to look directly at him.

The Elders present, representing the Imperial Council and the Council of Residents (created to bring the people's demands to the Emperor) were arranged in a semicircle around the throne. Discussions revolved around economic policies and defense strategies, but no matter how serious the topics, the eyes of those present often strayed to the figure of the Emperor. Orion's aura, his almost ethereal presence and beauty, made it difficult to maintain concentration, even for the most experienced.

"Your Majesty, we must reinforce our defenses in the north," said Vorian, the security advisor. His normally firm voice wavered slightly at the end of the sentence, as if Orion's presence had drained some of his confidence. "There are rumors that the wildlands are mobilizing for an invasion."

Orion raised his hand gently, and the room fell into a reverent silence. He looked directly at Vorian, his eyes shining with a deep knowledge and a serenity that seemed to transcend time.

"The rumors are true," Orion said, his voice low but firm, echoing like soft thunder through the hall. "Yet they hesitate. They fear our strength, for they do not yet fully understand the power that resides in our empire."

The unwavering calm of his words made worrying about an invasion seem almost trivial. All the Elders fixed their gazes on him, impressed not only by his wisdom, but by the magnetic aura that surrounded him. His presence, more than any military power, kept the empire united and strong.

The meeting continued, albeit at a slower and more respectful pace. Economic matters and treaties with neighboring kingdoms were discussed, but everyone's attention remained on Orion. He watched each Elder closely, his piercing eyes reading their intentions even before they spoke. He understood that, as Emperor, his presence and bearing were his greatest weapons. His charisma and power served to inspire as much as to subdue.

At the end of the meeting, Orion stood slowly, adjusting the sleeves of his suit with the grace of one who mastered time itself. The Elders rose immediately, bowing deeply as he passed, his steps fluid as if he were gliding across the floor. That day, his attire would be the talk of every corner of the empire, becoming the prevailing fashion for the next few weeks.

As night fell over the Eryndorian Empire, the surrounding kingdoms watched its movements with extreme caution. In distant, icy Mharak, the Empire of Eternal Snows, Empress Elora sat upon her throne of crystalline ice, pondering Orion's recent movements. Around her, advisors murmured concerns about Eryndorian military reinforcements.

"Emperor Orion is consolidating his forces in the north," said Lorias, the First Advisor, his voice low and tense. "It seems he is preparing for something greater."

Elora, her skin as pale as snow and her eyes as cold as the ice that covered her land, nodded slowly. "Orion is unpredictable. I do not know if this movement is defensive or if he is already preparing for expansion."

Across the continent, in the scorching desert of Akhtar, Sultan Amir al-Rashid was pondering the same questions. As he paced his lush gardens, he listened to the Spymaster, Azim, report on Orion's latest meeting with his council.

"The empire of Eryndor grows stronger every day," Azim said cautiously. "It could turn against us soon."

Amir smiled faintly. "Orion is more than a military leader. He is a mystery, a threat that lurks in the shadows. We must be prepared."

In Helgaron, a smaller but commercially strong kingdom, King Ulrich and his guilds were concerned about Orion's economic influence. "If he monopolizes the trade routes," said Freida, the guild leader, "our economy will be devastated."

Ulrich slammed his fist on the table. "We need strong alliances to resist the empire of Eryndor. It is growing too fast, and we cannot be at the mercy of its whims."

Following the movements of the great empires, there was also a group of neutral nations, whose interests were not directly aligned with any of the superpowers. These nations preferred to remain on the sidelines of the larger conflicts, but they watched Orion's movements with equal intensity, aware that the balance of power could tip in either direction.

In the vast archipelago of Seleneia, a nation formed by several islands interconnected by crystal bridges that shone under the moonlight, the Lunar Council was gathered in its central temple. The priestesses who governed Seleneia, dressed in long silver robes, were silent, listening attentively to the reports of Lyra, the High Priestess.

"Orion has shown signs of expansion, albeit discreet. His movements are not aggressive, but calculated. He is strengthening his borders and establishing new trade routes. We cannot ignore the fact that, despite his calm sovereign stance, he is a visionary leader with intentions that are difficult to decipher," Lyra explained, her voice calm but full of wisdom.

The High Priestess, an elderly woman, nodded slowly. "The Emperor of Eryndor is undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with. But our position is clear. Seleneia thrives on neutrality, and so far, our land has remained untouched by the ambitions of great empires. We must keep our path under the blessing of the Moon."

"Yes, but for how long?" asked one of the young priestesses. "The world is changing rapidly. Can we afford to remain neutral in the face of a leader like Orion?"

The High Priestess smiled softly. "Until he gives us cause to get involved, we will not take sides. Seleneia's balance lies in our patience. We will not rush into things."

Meanwhile, in the dense jungles of Theron, the realm of magical creatures and druids, the Council of the Ancients was gathered around a gigantic, ancient tree whose roots intertwined with the sacred soil. Theron was a nation of deep mysticism, where the oldest beings of the forest had a say in politics, and harmony with nature was their main principle.

The Keeper of the Roots, an elf with green skin and golden eyes, spoke first. "Eryndor is like a coming storm. He moves the world with his presence, but he has not yet reached our woods. The question is, should we prepare for this storm, or will it pass harmlessly over us?"

The Elder Ent, a talking tree whose branches were covered in flowers, answered in his deep, resonant voice. "The Emperor of Eryndor has shown respect for nature thus far. His expansions are calculated and, so far, do not interfere with our territories. But I sense a restlessness in the wind. He may eventually turn to our borders in search of something we do not yet understand."

The druids present, dressed in animal skins and leaf ornaments, pondered in silence. Theron had always chosen neutrality, preferring to stay away from conflicts between the human kingdoms. However, with Orion's advance, they knew that they would soon need to make a decision.

"We must remain in harmony with nature and prepare our rituals of defense," concluded the Root Keeper. "If the storm turns toward us, we will be ready."

In the distant Sunken Kingdom of Aqualon, where underwater cities glittered like pearls in the depths of the ocean, King Poseidon III, named after the god Poseidon, observed the movements of the surface empires through magical water spheres that captured images of events in the terrestrial world.

"Emperor Orion is a fascinating leader," the king murmured, stroking his blue beard. "He is not aggressive, but rules with a quiet strength that the other kingdoms fear. His influence is already felt in the waters, even if he has not yet set foot in them."

Councillor Coraline, a mermaid with greenish hair, approached. "Your Majesty, Eryndor does not yet pose a threat to Aqualon. The people of the sea maintain their independence, and our neutrality has allowed us to prosper. However, if Orion continues his expansion, he may one day set his sights on the resources of the sea."

Poseidon sighed. "If that happens, we will see how powerful his ambitions are. For now, there is no cause for concern. But we will keep a close eye on him."

Finally, in the floating mountains of Zaroth, where celestial monks meditated in the clouds and mastered the arcane arts, Grandmaster Yun Feng led a meeting of his closest disciples.

"Orion is different from other emperors," Yun Feng said, his golden robes billowing in the wind as he walked through the hanging gardens. "He rules with a wisdom uncommon for one of his age. There is something about him that transcends the simple desire for power. His rise was no accident."

"Should we be worried about him, Master?" asked one of the young monks.

Yun Feng smiled faintly. "Worrying is not the way of monks. We will watch and learn. If Orion comes to us, we will be ready, but for now, he follows a path that does not interfere with our balance. What concerns us is not what he does, but what he might do."

The neutral nations continued to watch Orion and his movements warily. Each of them understood that the balance of power in the world was shifting, and the Emperor of Eryndor was at the epicenter of this shift. Even in their neutrality, these nations knew that at some point, they would have to choose sides or redefine their strategies to deal with Orion's growing influence.

Eryndor was the subject of discussions in meetings of many empires on the continent, unaware that the Emperor of Eryndor himself, Orion, had another idea in mind. And he had already scheduled it for next month.

---

While the world outside was shrouded in politics and intrigue, on the upper floors of the library, a young woman with long, purple hair and deep-set eyes sat in a chair carved from ancient wood. The room around her radiated power. This was Empress Lyra, a woman whose intellect and strength were now the pinnacle of the multiverse, but who was now completely absorbed in an ancient tome.

The book that rested in her hands was unusual; its black cover, ornamented with golden symbols and writing that pulsed as if alive, was a rarity even among the most sacred texts.

Lyra knew that there was no other like it anywhere in the multiverse. Only here, in the vast collection of ancient knowledge on the upper floors of the library, could one find such profound knowledge, hidden from all others.

The grandeur of that room was almost unimaginable. The space around it seemed to bend the very laws of reality. Even to the most powerful dimensional travelers, the Imperial Library of Eryndor was a mystery. The magic of the Dao of Space shaped the floors into invisible layers, each larger than entire continents.

Here, Lyra could walk through distant eras and lands, traversing entire universes with a single turn of the page. Towering bookshelves rose in impossible directions, where the human eye could not reach, holding intellectual treasures that few would dare even imagine.

The silence in that room was not just an absence of sound; it was the presence of absolute power.

"So it is like this..." Lyra murmured, as the soft sound of pages turning filled the room.

The book she held revealed secrets about the history of the multiverse. Although Orion had already told her part of the truth, her curiosity led her to explore further, and she found that rare tome in the library.

"The power of the multiverse is divided into levels, see..."

Lyra read aloud, intrigued:

"1. Primordial Chaos: The beginning of everything.

2. Primordials of the Dao: The first divine beings, subordinate to the Primordial Chaos, who created the multiverse and maintain its balance.

3. Primordial Transcendents: Those who rule their own universes and serve the Primordials of the Dao. For example, the 18-winged Archangels serve the Primordial of Spirituality; the Dragons of Chaos answer to the Primordials of Negativity and Positivity; and the Squirrels of Fate follow the Primordial of Fate.

4. Transcendents: The pinnacle that races can reach through cultivation. Those who reach this level transcend their universes and travel to the Primordial Universe."

She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"And then there are the rulers of the mortal, immortal, divine, and Void worlds. The quasi-immortals in the mortal world, the tribulations in the immortal world, and the Primordial Gods in the divine world, all under the watchful eye of the Dao World. In the Void world, there are those who stand at the very top of the universe and are under the watchful eye of the Primordial Transcendents..."

Lyra stared at the text for a moment, absorbing the words carefully.

"During the early stages of cultivation, mortals train to adapt to the Dao they follow. When they become immortals and ascend to the world of immortals, they control 40% to 59% of the Dao at the beginning of their immortal journey. When they reach the level of the divine world, they master 60%, and when they reach the level of the Primordial God, they can control up to 80%. In the world of the Void, from the Void King to the Half-Transcendent, they reach 81% to 99%. Only when they become Transcendent do they control 100% of the Dao."

A mischievous smile appeared on Lyra's face.

"Wow... I skipped all that and became a Primordial of the Void Dao straight away! Hahaha!"

Her eyes shone with a mixture of joy and pride as she realized the magnitude of her ascension.