Chapter 994: This doesn't feel like salvation at all

Chapter 994: This doesn’t feel like salvation at all

“Big Boss! We finally meet face-to-face!”

Caesar leaped off his Dire Bear, his massive sword sheathed on his back, and approached Orion with the eager energy of a golden retriever. He seemed almost clumsy in his excitement, his hands lifting and falling, unsure of where to put themselves. For a second, he looked like he wanted to go in for a hug, then thought better of it.

Orion said nothing, just studied the man, a flicker of puzzlement in his eyes. He was certain they’d never met before, yet Caesar had picked him out of the non-existent crowd instantly, as if he’d known him his whole life.

“You’re younger than I pictured,” Caesar boomed, his voice full of genuine admiration. “Exactly how I imagined!”

Breaking the silence, Orion reached out and clapped Caesar firmly on the shoulder. It was a simple, grounding gesture, an unspoken welcome that immediately closed the distance between them.

Caesar visibly relaxed, the tension draining from his frame. “Man, thanks for everything. Seriously. I wouldn’t be here without your backing.” The way Orion spoke now, calm and direct, was the same voice he’d come to know through their remote dealings.

“Have your men clear the platform,” Orion said. “Another friend is about to arrive.”

Tangere’s arrival was imminent, and the five thousand Shield Warriors Caesar had brought with him needed to make some room.

“You got it!”

Caesar snapped into a different mode, all business. He drew his broadsword and raised it high, his voice echoing across the square.

“Fall in!”

The Shield Warriors, their formation slightly disorganized from the teleport, instantly responded. With a thunderous series of shield-thumps against the ground, five thousand men moved as one, locking into a perfect, disciplined square.

“Left face! March!”

The synchronized tramp of thousands of boots was deafening. The sheer discipline on display made Orion re-evaluate the force Caesar had brought to the table. They were more than just a mob.

“They clean up nice, huh?” Caesar said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Orion nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips, but offered no further comment. Discipline was the backbone of any Shield Warrior legion; it was the single most important trait. From this first look, Caesar’s crew was solid. Whether they could hold a line in a real fight remained to be seen.

“Just a minute,” Orion said. “Our other guest should be here any second.”

As if on cue, the air warped with a surge of spatial energy. The silhouette of the plague lord, Tangere, slowly solidified in the center of the plaza.

If Caesar and his five thousand Shield Warriors had been a shockwave, Tangere’s solitary arrival was an unnerving silence.

“Godfather, you gotta be kidding me. One guy?” Aerin whispered from behind Orion, unable to contain her disbelief. “You’re sure that’s him? The Tangere?”

Unlike Aerin, Orion’s expression was one of genuine pleasure. He had repeatedly made it clear that rewards for this venture would be directly proportional to contribution. For a Legendary-level powerhouse like Tangere to show up alone… that meant something. It was a statement.

Suddenly, a crushing wave of power washed over the plaza. A palpable, Legendary-level pressure slammed down, forcing Aerin and Freyla to their knees.

Caesar grunted, driving the tip of his broadsword into the stone for support. His muscles strained, but he remained standing, refusing to buckle.

So this is the power of an upper-tier Legendary. Not bad. Given the unique resilience of survivors, an upper-tier Legendary like Tangere could probably go toe-to-toe with a peak Legendary and hold his own.

“Welcome,” Orion said, striding forward to shake Tangere’s hand. “I think you’re just what the Wood Elves need to pull them out of the fire.”

As they clasped hands, the immense pressure vanished as if it had never been there.

“Your… your aura…” Tangere stared intently at Orion, his eyes wide. He couldn’t get a read on the giant before him. There was nothing. That could only mean one thing: Orion’s power was so far beyond his own that he was effectively invisible. The last time Tangere had felt this was in the presence of an arch lord, at a celebration he barely felt worthy of attending.

Orion chuckled. “Just as you suspect. How else do you think I’m leading this little invasion of the Silverwood Realm?”

Tangere took a sharp breath, his mind reeling. He had assumed Orion was on his level, another Legendary. He never imagined that the organizer of this entire operation was an arch lord. The shock was profound, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of raw excitement. An arch lord leading the charge? This wasn’t just some high-risk raid anymore. This was the big leagues. This meant they were in for a serious payday.

“Everyone, introductions,” Orion said as Aerin and Caesar cautiously approached. He gestured to each in turn. “Aerin. Caesar. Tangere.”

The three sized each other up, curiosity in their eyes. For Aerin, learning that Tangere was another Legendary powerhouse ignited a fresh spark of hope for her people. She approached him with a deep sense of respect.

“Hello. I’m Aerin. Thank you for coming to help us.”

Tangere studied her for a long moment, then reached out and placed a large hand on her shoulder. “I smell it,” he rasped, his voice like grinding stones. “Decay. Corruption. There’s a seed of plague in you.” His gaze was unnervingly intense. “If it’s not cleansed, you’ll become a source. A walking infection.”

Without another word, he did something with his hand. A faint wisp of black smoke drifted out from Aerin’s body, coalescing in Tangere’s palm. When the last of the smoke was drawn out, he pulled his hand back and brought the swirling black orb to his face, inhaling deeply as if it were the aroma of a fine wine.

“A fascinating source of plague,” he mused, a disturbing smile spreading across his face. “Such a beautiful bouquet. I think… I’m going to like it here.”

With a clench of his fist, the black smoke was absorbed into his skin, leaving a cryptic symbol glowing faintly on his palm for a moment before fading.

“Aside from you,” Tangere said, turning to Orion with the deference of a subordinate reporting to a superior, “they’re all tainted. If it’s not dealt with, they’ll eventually turn.” He seemed genuinely curious as to why Orion was completely untouched by the ambient corruption.

“You’re the expert,” Orion stated simply. “Cleansing them is your job now.”

He took a step back, his gaze sweeping over all of them—Aerin, Caesar, Tangere. His voice dropped, taking on an edge of absolute authority.

“And welcome, all of you, to The Stillness. This is my territory.”

The declaration hung in the air. He was making it crystal clear who was in charge, who was the supreme commander of this force.

Aerin, Caesar, and Tangere exchanged glances. No one argued. To them, it felt right. Natural.

But just outside the plaza, Freyla, who had overheard everything, felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach.

The Forest of Nature has always been the home of the Wood Elves. Since when did it become this stranger’s… territory? And when did anyone start calling it ‘The Stillness’?

She stared at Aerin’s back, and for the first time, her looked fragile, small.

Is this really the hope of our people? Somehow… this doesn’t feel like salvation at all.