CHAPTER 804: BIOLOGICAL WEAPONS

Vlad’s eyes narrowed, a meaningful glint flickering within them as he absorbed Overlord’s proposal. Biological weapons were undeniably powerful and represented an important strategic asset; yet, at the end of the day, they were soulless constructs—mere tools no different from armor or siege engines. Losing them on the battlefield carried little emotional impact, merely the minor sting of lost resources, rather than the profound blow to morale suffered from losing human lives. It was a sound strategy, and one Vlad couldn’t easily dismiss.

The True Depravita of Wrath swept his penetrating gaze around the room, carefully observing the expressions of the generals and the high-ranking officials of the Xaos Kingdom. Each commander nodded thoughtfully, understanding the cold pragmatism behind Overlord’s suggestion. Deploying biological assets ahead of the main army would minimize initial losses and give them valuable insights into enemy strength and strategy without risking their irreplaceable elite warriors and seasoned commanders.

"Then it’s decided," Vlad finally declared, his voice calm yet carrying the full weight of his authority. "We will prioritize the teleportation and deployment of our biological weapons. This will soften the enemy, disrupt their formations, and allow us to better gauge their true capabilities."

With the decision finalized, they swiftly moved forward to execute the plan.

...

Far away, deep within a command center situated inside an immense fortress on Exilon, Augustus stood staring at the tactical screens. The proud scion of the Zanis Family felt both shame and fury—shame that he had failed to defend the stronghold, and fury that an unknown enemy had managed to escape unscathed after transforming their invaluable Interstellar Teleportation Formation into a catastrophic black hole.

He knew very well what awaited him if this disgraceful outcome reached the ears of the elders back on their homeworld. In the best-case scenario, he would be severely reprimanded for negligence; at worst, he could be stripped of his titles and publicly humiliated. Such punishment might seem excessively harsh, but with war looming closer every day, the Zanis Family could not afford to tolerate even the slightest incompetence. Weakness at this juncture was simply unacceptable.

But even if Augustus wished to communicate with his homeworld, it was impossible now. The Silence Field surrounding Exilon had severed all external communications, completely isolating them from outside reinforcements.

Of course, as a High Legend, Augustus could theoretically leave Exilon and traverse the endless expanse of the Void Between Worlds back to his homeland. However, that journey would take months, perhaps even years—by which point the outcome of this war would already be decided. As the highest-ranking Zanis representative on Exilon, Augustus bore the full responsibility to reclaim control of this crucial world himself.

"Ahhh..." Augustus exhaled deeply, frustration leaking from his lungs. Slowly, he forced his anger and bitterness into the depths of his heart, refocusing his mind on the tasks at hand. An enemy had successfully infiltrated Exilon, strong enough to silence the entire planet and simultaneously destroy its three most powerful fortresses. Yet beyond the evident strength of their Legends and the skill of their soldiers, Augustus knew practically nothing. The worst part was that their exact location was completely unknown.

Exilon was a vast world, immense enough that even a High Legend would require weeks to circumnavigate. Countless potential hiding spots existed, and even with hundreds of millions of soldiers at his disposal, searching every corner was impossible. The prospects of finding the enemy were frustratingly slim.

But just as Augustus felt the oppressive weight of futility settling in, the tactical screens in front of him suddenly flashed and emitted a soft hum. Augustus immediately straightened, his eyes widening with anticipation as the screens detected an unusual spatial fluctuation. The equipment couldn’t precisely pinpoint the location, but it successfully narrowed the anomaly to a single continent.

"Asaris Continent," Augustus murmured, lips curling into a sinister smile. A cold and brutal resolve filled his gaze. The continent was enormous, true—but the Zanis Family had forces positioned across every region of Exilon. It would take mere days to flood Asaris with millions of expendable soldiers.

Yes, these low-tier warriors, primarily Champions, would undoubtedly suffer tremendous casualties in the face of the enemy’s elite units, including possible Legendary warriors. But Augustus did not flinch at the thought. Sacrificing their lives was acceptable if it meant narrowing the enemy’s location and regaining strategic advantage.

Without wasting another moment, the scion of the Zanis Family pulled a small communication crystal from his space ring, gripping it tightly as he barked a decisive order:

"Generals, heed my command! Immediately mobilize all available forces to the Asaris Continent. Search every inch of land—mountains, rivers, forests, caves. Leave no stone unturned, and flush out the enemy by any means necessary!"

Within days, millions of soldiers converged upon Asaris. Some were already stationed there, while others flooded in from neighboring continents, pouring in through teleportation formations and rapid transport systems. Their eyes were sharp with purpose, their hearts coldly resolute as they formed ranks under their generals’ command. Quickly and efficiently, they established a vast perimeter around the continent, preparing to close inward systematically.

Their mission was brutally simple: find the hidden invaders and exterminate them at all costs.

Though most were Champions—far from powerful enough to single-handedly threaten a Legendary-level enemy—their determination remained unshaken. In their minds, dying for the Zanis Family was the highest possible honor, a sacrifice to be embraced with pride rather than feared.

Methodically, like a massive human net slowly tightening around prey, they advanced inward, meticulously combing every inch of the landscape. They explored hidden valleys, searched through dense forests, climbed into rugged mountains, and waded through shallow rivers. They even utilized scanning devices and minor divination artifacts to check subterranean caverns and inspect cloud formations above.

Augustus and his generals understood clearly the painstaking slowness of this method. However, they also recognized it as the only reliable approach against an enemy clearly skilled in stealth and infiltration. This exhaustive, inch-by-inch sweep was the surest path to success, even if it took days or weeks to produce results.

Standing in the command center, Augustus watched the progress reports with grim patience, his face illuminated by constantly shifting tactical displays. His anger had settled into a focused determination. The humiliation he’d suffered still burned within him, but now it served only to fuel his resolve.

He would find these invaders. No matter how cunning, no matter how powerful—they would be dragged from their hiding places and destroyed.

...

A massive battalion composed of over five hundred thousand soldiers marched relentlessly toward a distant fortress, each warrior’s eyes sharp and unyielding, their weapons primed and ready. Countless battles had hardened these soldiers, their bodies forged in the merciless crucible of their homeworld, their minds sharpened into weapons of absolute resolve. To outsiders, it seemed there was nothing capable of shaking their composure or planting even a seed of fear in their hearts.

But suddenly, without warning or precursor, that illusion shattered entirely.

The ground beneath their armored feet trembled faintly, barely noticeable at first. Before any soldier could react, the earth violently split open with a terrifying roar. From within these newly formed fissures, dark flashes of shadow and unnatural speed burst forth, moving so swiftly that even the trained eyes of Zanis soldiers struggled to follow.

The warriors in the vanguard widened their eyes in stunned disbelief, attempting to raise their weapons and issue a command—but it was already far too late. In mere fractions of a second, bodies were torn asunder, limbs and armor scattering chaotically across the battlefield. Blood erupted from the wounds in torrents, staining the earth deep crimson, painting the nearby trees and foliage with gore.

Shocked murmurs rippled briefly through the ranks, but the disciplined soldiers quickly recovered their senses, falling back upon years of brutal training. They swiftly reorganized their formation, tightening ranks and pointing their weapons outward, readying their defenses. Yet, the enemy was a shadow—too fast, too elusive. They glimpsed only blurs of darkness, darting rapidly between their lines, vanishing before the Zanis warriors could even fire their weapons.

Then came another dreadful silence—short, yet chillingly tense. The soldiers stood frozen in anticipation, weapons trained on the ruptured ground beneath them, awaiting the next attack with baited breath.

But the enemy did not simply rise again from the ground. Instead, something far more horrifying erupted from below, shattering the silence.

"BOOOOOOMMM!"

An explosion of blazing fire and molten rock burst from beneath their feet, consuming hundreds in a searing inferno. Screams filled the air as the flames engulfed them, armor melting to flesh, weapons rendered useless by the blistering heat.

The shadowy creatures took advantage of the ensuing turmoil. They surged from the flames, moving in and out of sight, reaping lives with ruthless efficiency. One Zanis soldier, his vision clouded by smoke and terror, briefly caught a glimpse of one attacker—a monstrous figure more than four meters tall wrapped in flames and shadows—but before he could shout a warning to his comrades, razor-sharp claws sliced mercilessly through his torso, cutting him in half with gruesome ease.

Panic grew among the remaining soldiers, their once-unbreakable morale crumbling. Weapons were fired blindly, blades swung frantically at shadows, but all in vain. The creatures moved like ghosts, untouchable and relentless, striking again and again from the darkness and flame.

No pleas for mercy were offered—only savage efficiency.

Before an hour, the once-mighty battalion was reduced to pockets of terrified, isolated soldiers. They screamed orders, desperately calling for regrouping, but each attempt to organize was met with even more brutal assaults. Soon, even those scattered cries fell silent.