Marshal Maximo’s eyes widened as the visions unfolded before him. He saw the clash between Jormungandr and the monstrous horde led by Atila, abominations of flesh and nightmare crashing like tidal waves against the serpent’s colossal form. He witnessed how Vlad had fused with the True Depravitas of Gluttony and Greed, hurling himself into a battle against Orfyr, their collision shaking the sky and reaching the threshold of Half-Step Lord Tier combat.
The mories unfolded in terrifying clarity—the vast mountain ranges torn asunder, detonations of High-Dinsional Atomic Weapons blooming across the sky like suns of destruction, their radiance montarily blotting out the firmant. He saw how Orfyr had shed his form and transford into a Nightmare Sky, an all-encompassing abomination of darkness. And he saw Vlad, forced into a desperate gambit, plunging his own body into that sky to destroy it from within.
At last, Maximo understood the truth behind Vlad’s grievous sacrifice—why his body and soul had been obliterated. And yet, even as that answer was revealed, it raised far darker questions.
"What was that thing?" the Marshal whispered, though his voice trembled.
For all his hardened years, for all the battles fought across the Doomsday Worlds, Maximo could not restrain the shudder that ran through his fra as he beheld the nightmare universe revealed before him.
It was unlike anything he had encountered in his long life. Though rely a projection, its presence radiated such malice, such unrelenting wickedness, that the cruelties of demons, devils, and the vile Voroes seed like nothing more than children throwing tantrums by comparison. This was no ordinary foe.
And it was not rely the entity’s nature that was horrifying—it was its power. Even through the faint echo preserved in mory, Maximo felt it. That being was undoubtedly a Lord Tier existence.
Vlad’s voice cut through the heavy silence, sharp and solemn.
"Even now, I do not know its true na. Perhaps it never possessed one. What I do know is this—it belongs to the kin that corrupted Pompeyo, the Patriarch of the Zanis Family. This... this is our true enemy."
The words settled over the group like a stormcloud. Even now, with all the strength Vlad had amassed since his evolution into a True Sun Depravita, the nightmare entity remained a terror beyond comprehension. He had only prevailed because it underestimated him. Had it unleashed its full might, the outco would have been disastrous.
If it had not been slain, the entire Exilion World would have been consud—its skies and lands transford into a nightmare-infested realm.
"No other world was targeted by this entity?" he asked sharply.
Marshal Maximo shook his head. "No. By the reports I’ve gathered, none of the other fronts faced such a creature."
Vlad nooded, "It seems these beings have difficulty manifesting fully in our universe. Their presence is shallow for now, constrained by the Laws that govern existence."
That piece of information offered the group a small asure of comfort, but it was fragile. They all knew that entities of such magnitude would eventually find ways to circumvent the restraints. It was only a matter of ti before they gained greater footholds in reality.
The silence was broken by Marshal Maximo’s voice, now hard with resolve. His eyes glowed with killing intent as he declared.
"This only proves how vital our mission is. If such monsters manifest openly in the future and march upon the Graecia Empire, we cannot afford to be hindered by human traitors or divided by the presence of corrupted agents. Pompeyo and his Zanis Association must be eradicated, utterly and without hesitation."
The True Depravitas and Overlord all nodded in unison. They understood perfectly. The strength of any empire, any force, lay not only in its peak warriors but in the unity of its will. To allow Pompeyo’s faction to remain was to allow rot at the heart of the Graecian defense. And against enemies like those nightmare entities, disunity ant annihilation.
Vlad inclined his head, his voice steady.
"Then tell us, Marshal—what is the next phase of the war?"
The White Death had only shared fragnts of the strategy with him, enough to reach this point. Vlad knew the ultimate goal was the death of Pompeyo and the destruction of the Zanis Howorld itself. But how they would achieve it remained unclear.
Marshal Maximo wasted no ti. He straightened, his tone commanding.
"The battles for the outer worlds have been won. Now the war must shift to the Void Between Worlds. All Legends, and every entity capable of surviving and fighting in the void, must march to the periphery of the Zanis Howorld for the first charge."
The air grew tense as he spoke. His gaze swept over them, sharp and unyielding, ensuring every word struck ho.
"Our initial goal is clear: destroy the satellites and orbital defense chanisms surrounding the Zanis Howorld. Those structures form the spatial formation that shields the planet. Once they are broken, our troops can teleport directly into the Howorld without hindrance."
He paused, letting the weight of the words sink in before continuing.
"The finer details of the battle—specific roles, commands, and coordination—will be laid out by the Emperor himself when we assemble at the White Blade."
The True Depravitas and Overlord exchanged looks and nodded. The plan was direct and simple. But none mistook simplicity for ease. The Zanis Howorld would be prepared, bristling with defenses, weapons, and warriors. Legends would fall. Even the strongest could be slain with a single misstep. The coming battle would be a storm of blood.
Still, each nodded with unwavering resolve.
Satisfied, Marshal Maximo allowed a small smile to break through his iron expression.
"Then let us prepare. We march in six weeks. During that ti, we must construct Interstellar Teleportation Formations here in Exilion. They will serve as our staging ground, the bridge by which our armies may leap into the void and strike at the Zanis Howorld."
The distance between the Graecia Empire and the Zanis Howorld was imnse. Direct teleportation on such a scale would be reckless. The energies required were titanic, and more dangerously, such attempts could be easily intercepted, scattering or killing entire divisions.
That was why the long siege of Exilion and the other captured worlds had been essential. Each conquered system beca a foothold, a node in the chain that would allow safe passage into enemy territory.
Vlad listened intently, then nodded once. His eyes glead with fierce purpose.
At his signal, the Exilion World erupted into action. Soldiers and scholars, architects and engineers, all mobilized. The six weeks ahead would be filled with relentless labor—fortifications raised, teleportation arrays constructed, supply lines secured. Every hand and every will was bent toward a single purpose.
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