Chapter 794: Finishing with the Silence Towers
Far, far away from the frozen lands of the Ice Behemoths, where silence reigned beneath eternal snowfall, there lay a very different kind of nightmare—a place not of ice and deathly stillness, but of rot, poison, and thriving decay. Though often called a forest, the truth was far more insidious. The Purple Forest was more akin to a swamp—an overwhelming, monstrous jungle of death.
Colossal trees rose tens of thousands of meters into the air, their canopies so thick they completely blocked out sunlight, casting the entire forest floor into perpetual darkness. But the absence of light was not what made the place so infamous.
These trees constantly exuded a viscous purple sap, which seeped into the soil and transformed the ground into sludgy, foul-smelling mud. That same substance released a dense, toxic fog that drifted endlessly through the forest, laced with arcane venom potent enough to kill even human Legends if they remained exposed for too long.
The forest teemed with poisonous monsters—creatures born of venom, whose biology had adapted to thrive in the toxic haze. And so, the Purple Forest became their exclusive domain, feared even by most of the Zanis Family. Few dared venture near it.
But today, the status quo had changed.
Wading calmly through the mists were three figures: a small yellow cat with lightning in its eyes, a white-furred werewolf crackling with primal energy, and a dragon of radiant flame whose scales pulsed with a soft, glowing light. Behind them followed a swarm—tens of thousands of monsters marching in formation, eyes dim with obedience.
The True Depravitas of Gluttony, Greed, and Envy had chosen a different strategy than Vlad. Instead of silent assassination, they had invoked their bestial nature and gone primal. The moment they entered the forest, they struck directly at the dominant monster hordes, slaying their leaders in brutal combat and forcing the lesser creatures to submit.
It was a savage process, but an effective one. The moment a leader fell, the hierarchy of monsters adapted. Within hours, the three Depravitas had absorbed multiple packs, growing their army until they ruled the entire Purple Forest—everything except the core, where the ley energy was strongest and where the Silence Tower needed to be constructed.
Now, the three stood at the edge of that forbidden center, staring down the last bastion of resistance.
A deafening roar shattered the silence.
"ROOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRR!"
From the depths of the forest emerged a monstrous spider—a Legendary Spider Queen, easily several thousand meters in size. Her swollen body leaked corrosive purple fluid from every pore, and her countless legs clicked against the trees with a bone-chilling rhythm. She was not alone; thousands of her venomous spawn poured out behind her, shrieking and gnashing their mandibles in preparation for war.
But the True Depravitas remained unfazed.
With a single gesture from Jormungandr, the monster army they had gathered surged forward. It was an eruption of primal chaos—claws against fangs, poison against scales, darkness against flame. Blood sprayed through the air as the forest erupted into one of the most feral battles Exilon had seen in centuries.
This method, while loud and brutal, was deliberate. While silence and secrecy were normally essential to the mission, the Purple Forest was located near several important cities. A sudden collapse in its monstrous hierarchy would raise suspicions. But a violent shift in the food chain—monsters fighting monsters—was not only common but expected.
Let the world think it was merely another territorial war among beasts.
The Depravitas knew that only Legendary-class monsters had enough intelligence to potentially expose their involvement. But that wouldn’t be a problem. They had no intention of leaving any of them alive.
The Spider Queen let out another guttural roar and lunged forward, trampling her own underlings in a frenzied charge toward the intruders. Her bloated body glowed with venomous energy as she rushed directly at the three invaders.
But still, only one of them moved.
Jormungandr’s eyes began to glow. In an instant, the tiny yellow cat transformed into a monstrous serpent of living lightning. He towered over the battlefield, his body stretching so high it pierced the thick canopy. His scales shimmered with energy, and thunder echoed in every movement.
The Spider Queen halted, stunned by the sheer size and majesty of the being before her.
Then Jormungandr struck.
He lunged forward with earth-shattering force, his jaws clamping down on the Spider Queen and tearing through both trees and flesh. Her scream was brief and cut short by the sound of her body hitting the ground, her chest pierced and crushed.
It had taken less than ten seconds.
Without hesitation, Ouroboros approached the corpse and began devouring it, absorbing her flesh, venom, and residual energy to enhance his own power.
The rest of the monster horde battle lasted half a day. Blood soaked the forest floor, and shrieks of dying creatures echoed endlessly. Eventually, the spiders were defeated, every last one hunted down.
With the battlefield claimed, the Depravitas gave their new army permission to feast. Their monsters cheered and began consuming the bodies of the fallen, smiles on their grotesque faces.
While the feeding continued, Jormungandr, Ouroboros, and Fafnir moved to the center of the Purple Forest. There, amid ancient roots and bubbling pools of purple sludge, they cleared the site and withdrew massive obsidian plaques from their spatial storage.
Construction of the second Silence Tower had begun.
...
Far away, in a different part of Exilon, there was another cursed location—the Maws of Darkness.
This vast subterranean cave network was a world of its own, where no sunlight ever touched the stone. The air was so polluted that even adult humans would die after breathing it for just a few days. Yet life still thrived here—twisted, broken life.
The Maws were home to a race of subhuman creatures—beings that resembled a grotesque fusion of elf and corpse. Their skin was leathery, mottled gray and green. Their eyes could not adjust to light, and their jaws were filled with jagged fangs. The people of Exilon called them Outcasted, and they were treated like pests. They raided border villages, devoured children, and dragged screaming victims into the darkness.
But their reign ended today.
Blood coated the tunnels as the screams of the Outcasted echoed in horror. Bodies littered the cavern floors, limbs twisted at impossible angles.
Walking calmly through the carnage were two figures—a young woman, radiant and composed, and a young man, his eyes glowing like twin stars.