CHAPTER 842: ORFRY AND AUGUSTUS

Augustus stood in the command center, frowning deeply. His gaze was fixed on the large digital display in front of him—one that showed the crumbling situation across Exilon. The Antarktik continent, along with two others, had already fallen to the advancing forces of the Xaos Kingdom.

All the reinforcements he had painstakingly deployed, all the enhancements and fortifications he had constructed—especially the once-formidable Ice Cube fortress—had proven utterly useless. The enemy Legends had overpowered his own elite warriors, despite being at a numerical disadvantage. The situation had spiraled so far out of control that Augustus had almost resigned himself to another catastrophic defeat.

But then, something unexpected happened.

From the depths of the Antartik continent, a strange new army emerged. Twisted, mutated creatures marched upon the battlefield with ferocity, and at their head stood a mysterious figure—one whose power radiated so intensely that Augustus felt it through the command screens alone. This army displayed both incredible strength and surprising strategy. They breached the Ice Cube, initiating a truly brutal and chaotic battle.

Though their leader ultimately escaped and the strange army was decimated, there was no denying their power.

Augustus couldn’t help but see opportunity in this bizarre development.

These creatures were not human. That much was certain. But Augustus had grown desperate. It was now painfully clear that he could not repel the invading forces on his own. He was losing ground rapidly, and every failed counterattack brought him closer to execution at the hands of the Zanis Family. If Exilon were lost under his watch, the Patriarch would not be merciful.

So by this point, Augustus was willing to do business with anyone—anything—that could help him.

The biggest problem was that he didn’t know where this mysterious new force had come from. He spent hours connecting with every general, noble, and operative across the planet, hoping someone could identify them. But no one knew anything. No trace, no name, no signal. They were a ghost army led by an even more enigmatic figure.

As Augustus sat alone in thought, pondering how to reach out to this unknown entity, the large gates to the command center creaked open with a heavy, echoing groan. A single figure entered the room.

Augustus turned quickly, narrowing his eyes. The figure that stood before him was no other than Orfry.

But something was wrong.

Though Augustus was known for his occasional brutality, he was also a wise and skilled warrior. He could tell immediately—this was not the real Orfry, or at least not as he had known him. Something inside that body was... different. The aura was off. Darker. More ancient. Far more dangerous.

Orfry didn’t seem to care that Augustus had noticed. It continued walking calmly, only halting when Augustus clenched his fists and subtly reached for his weapon, prepared to defend himself if necessary.

"There’s no need to be afraid, young man of the Zanis Family," Orfry said, voice smooth, calm—almost reassuring. "We are, after all, on the same side."

The figure paused then, and his eyes flashed with a sharp and chilling light.

"Your Patriarch understands that."

Augustus’s breath caught in his throat.

His thoughts raced. As a high-ranking member of the Zanis Family, he was well aware of the drastic changes sweeping through their hierarchy. The Zanis Association had begun distancing itself from the Graecia Empire under secretive orders from the Patriarch. Tensions had been rising for years, and now, a full-scale civil war seemed inevitable.

One of the reasons Augustus had come to Exilon in the first place—just as the invasion began—was to ensure the army was ready. He had been ordered to consolidate resources, anticipate potential internal conflict, and prepare for a break from imperial rule.

But still... why?

The Graecia Empire, led by the terrifying White Death, was not a force one opposed lightly. Unless, of course, the Zanis Family had allied themselves with a power capable of standing against them—one strong enough to challenge the Emperor himself.

That possibility sent a chill down Augustus’s spine.

Even so, he kept his guard up. Just because the Patriarch might have made a deal didn’t mean Augustus had to trust this being standing before him.

"How should I address you?" Augustus asked warily.

"You can continue calling me Orfry," the figure replied with a small smile. "After all, I am him... in a way."

Then, without waiting for permission, he turned his attention to the virtual display screens around them, which detailed the global situation. Areas controlled by the Xaos Kingdom were marked in deep red, having already consumed over a third of the world.

"Your situation is truly deplorable," the entity mused. "Nineteen continents—seven controlled by the Scourge, three inhospitable and devoid of military value. Nine remain under your command... but it’s only a matter of time before you lose them, too."

Augustus clenched his fists even tighter. As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn’t. The analysis was cold but accurate.

"Don’t look so defeated," the imposter said casually. "This isn’t entirely your fault. The Scourge’s forces are clearly superior to yours, especially his powerhouses. At full strength, he can ascend to become a Half-Step Lord."

"What!?" Augustus gasped, his voice filled with shock.

He had seen firsthand the destructive might of the enemy leader, the height he achieved upon fusing with that monstrous World Snake. But a Half-Step Lord? That was beyond terrifying. That wasn’t just power—it was transcendence.

"How am I supposed to face something like that?" he muttered.

Orfry smiled wider and extended a hand.

"You don’t have to shoulder this burden alone," he said. "I am here now. I have a way to fight back. Together, we can defeat the Scourge and make this world his grave."

Augustus stared at the outstretched hand. His instincts screamed that something was wrong, that he was standing at the edge of a precipice with no way back. But hope—a desperate, fragile hope—clouded his judgment.

The possibility of salvation... it was too tempting.

And so, he reached out.

Their hands met in a firm shake.

Unfortunately for Augustus, he should have listened to his instincts.