Chapter 801: Plunging the world on silence (I)
Without wasting another second, Vlad vanished from the battlefield, swiftly moving away from the devastation he had unleashed and from the hundreds of thousands of soldiers that would soon flood the area. His mission was complete—and not just successful, but spectacularly so.
The Xaos strike team had exceeded all expectations. Not only had they killed over fifty thousand soldiers and obliterated an entire fortress, but they had also captured Warden Felix, one of the most strategically valuable assets on the planet.
While the Emperor had provided an incredibly detailed analysis of Exilon’s structure and military forces, there were always bound to be gaps in intelligence—oversights, secrets, vulnerabilities that no amount of spying could uncover.
But those secrets?
They were all locked away in the mind of the captured Warden.
As Vlad soared through the skies, ensuring that not a single trace of his soldiers was left behind, a sharp glint appeared in his eyes. Though he deeply trusted his fellow commanders, the True Depravita of Wrath couldn’t help but wonder how the other teams had fared.
There were three Interstellar Teleportation Formations on Exilon. The one at Katu Fortress had been destroyed through an incredibly unstable method.
Vlad’s own runic constructs, forged through his deep mastery of the Law of Space, had transformed the formation into a black hole. But this process was too volatile, too dangerous to replicate or share with the other units. It had required the runes to be crafted just moments before deployment—meaning the other two Xaos groups had been forced to find their own ways of handling the remaining strongholds.
...
Far from Katu, in the heart of the continent, stood a majestic city—Zanu City, a massive metropolis whose sheer scale made even the grandest capitals seem like villages in comparison. It was one of the most important locations on Exilon, not only for its military might—with hundreds of thousands of elite soldiers trained there every year—but also because it served as the administrative and aristocratic seat of power for the Zanis Family.
The native Exilon forces were forged in battle and bred for war, with discipline and loyalty embedded into their very bones. But Zanu City was also home to scions, aristocrats, and political elites from the Zanis Family—many of whom had been sent to Exilon not for military excellence, but to keep them away from the delicate power games of the core worlds.
These individuals, born of privilege and influence, had grown narcissistic and cruel, using Exilon and its people as playgrounds for their twisted fantasies. Treated like gods among mortals, they indulged in devious games with no consequences.
But that illusion shattered today.
Because today, monsters—literal and figurative—descended upon the city.
It began with a strange shield forming in the sky, enveloping the world in a curtain of unnatural energy. Then, without warning, massive explosions echoed throughout Zanu City. The ancient city walls crumbled, towers collapsed, and the protective barriers failed. Then came the flood.
Hundreds of thousands of monsters stormed into the city. Towering beasts, each larger than a man, surged through the streets. They weren’t normal creatures either. Their muscular, red-skinned bodies pulsed with unnatural heat, as if their blood had been replaced with molten fire. Their eyes glowed with mindless hatred.
They didn’t just kill—they rampaged.
And they didn’t care if they lived or died.
The monsters attacked with suicidal fury, each acting as if their sole purpose was to destroy as much as possible before falling.
Initially, the Zanis soldiers reeled. Caught off guard, entire battalions were overwhelmed. But after the first shock wore off, they began to mobilize. As formations were restored and Legends led the counterattack, the tide began to turn—briefly.
That was when true nightmares appeared.
From the chaos emerged a massive snake stretching thousands of meters, its body crackling with electric wrath. Beside him was a white werewolf, whose physical presence twisted the very air around him, radiating a force that bent gravity itself. And above them soared a dragon of light and fire, his flames shining with such brilliance that it seemed to rival the sun.
These three titanic beings tore through the Zanis Legends, matching them power for power, moment for moment.
And then came the final blow.
Just as Zanis infantry reached the front lines, preparing to reinforce their formations against the monster hordes, over three thousand soldiers clad in gleaming white armor emerged from the ruined districts. These warriors didn’t hesitate—they pierced through Zanis formations with calculated precision, shattering cohesion and leaving their lines exposed to the continued monster assault.
The Zanis soldiers tried to regroup, but the white-armored soldiers were unrelenting.
Even the monsters, blinded by rage, paused when they came near these mysterious allies. They growled, twitched, and turned their glowing eyes toward the white-armored warriors—only to suddenly recoil. They smelled something. A fragrance so vile to them, so repulsive, that it turned their fury elsewhere. Gagging, howling, the monsters redirected their rampage back toward the Zanis forces.
The city fell into total chaos.
The streets ran red with blood. Fires burned uncontrollably. Screams echoed through the air like a funeral chorus. Yet even amidst this storm, the Zanis military command held.
The troops were elite. The commanders were experienced. They adapted, regrouped, and retaliated. Thousands of monsters were slain in the counteroffensive. Even the disruption caused by the white-armored infiltrators was gradually being contained.
Bit by bit, Zanu City’s defenders began to push back.
They were close to regaining the upper hand.
But just as hope began to flicker in their hearts, a new threat emerged.
Spatial fluctuations—wild and chaotic—rippled in all directions.
The Legends of the Zanis Family immediately noticed the rising spatial fluctuations, and a deep sense of horror gripped their hearts.
Even without full understanding, they knew something was terribly wrong.
Earlier, they had already detected that the mysterious barrier now encasing Exilon was interfering with all forms of long-range communication. Their attempts to connect with their homeworlds had been met with silence. The implications were terrifying—if the Interstellar Teleportation Formations were disabled as well, they would be completely sealed within this world, cut off from reinforcements or escape. No help would come. No extraction would be possible.
They would be trapped.
That thought alone was enough to unnerve even the most seasoned warrior.
Panic bloomed like poison in their veins, and the feeling of dread was so intense that even the proud Legends began to act irrationally. Driven by desperation, they struck with renewed ferocity, unleashing everything they had against the trio of titanic beasts standing in their way.
The three monstrous beings held their ground with ease, despite the ferocity of the assault. They exchanged glances across the battlefield, silent and calm, their expressions twisted into faint, knowing smiles.
Everything was going according to plan.
The sheer power of the three monsters was more than enough to keep the Legends occupied. No matter how hard they fought, no matter how many techniques or weapons they threw, they could not break through the monstrous wall before them.
Then—without a word—the snake, wolf, and dragon exchanged meaningful nods. A subtle signal passed between them.
And without warning, the True Depravitas and the rest of the Xaos soldiers began to retreat, slipping away into the smoke, fire, and chaos left behind by the monster horde. They moved with disciplined precision, vanishing through hidden pathways and spatial tears before the enemy could react. The monster assault had served its purpose—it had covered the extraction perfectly.
The Legends of Zanis were momentarily baffled. Why were the enemy forces pulling back? Why would they retreat now, when they held the advantage?
But there was no time to think.
The spatial fluctuations near the Interstellar Teleportation Formation were growing wild, unpredictable, and increasingly dangerous. Alarm bells rang in their minds. They flashed through the skies at full speed, desperately racing toward the formation.
But they were too late.
Just as they were within reach, the spatial pressure surged, and with a deafening crack, a massive portal was torn open above the city.
What followed was nothing short of cataclysmic.
From the rift in the sky, a massive river of golden magma poured forth—liquid radiance hotter than any natural flame, infused with divine essence. It didn’t simply fall—it flooded, cascading over buildings, towers, and streets, reducing stone and steel to molten ruin in seconds. The glow was so intense it could not be stared at directly. Structures disintegrated under its touch. Dozens of city blocks were instantly submerged.
The magma wasn’t just heat—it was corrosive divinity, and anything touched by it—organic or inorganic—was reduced to ash.
Even the defensive formations of the city, ancient and formidable, buckled under the pressure of the golden tide. Protective barriers cracked like glass. Energy fields vaporized.
Soldiers screamed as they were swallowed by it.
The river flowed not with the slow crawl of lava but with the momentum of a tidal wave, carving through the city like a blade through flesh. Entire battalions disappeared within moments. Aristocrats and commanders alike were consumed, their screams lost beneath the roar of divine annihilation.