CHAPTER 824: THE MIGHT OF THE REBELLION

"DAMMIT!" Augustus roared, slamming his clenched fist down onto the console next to him with such violent force that sparks cascaded across the control panel. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with burning fury and disbelief, as he watched in horror the results displayed on the monitors before him. The soldiers, tens of thousands of troops, had failed in the most catastrophic manner imaginable.

He witnessed the chaos unfolding before his very eyes, through the thousands of drones spread across the sky, and the devastating reality was undeniable. The compound had malfunctioned, causing only enough internal combustion to kill his own soldiers, without even slightly harming their foes. Thousands lay dead, betrayed by their very blood.

"How the hell did they learn how to neutralize the Blood Combustion Compound so fast!?" Augustus bellowed, voice raw and choked with hatred. He turned sharply toward the generals and commanders gathered in the war room.

Each of them shrank back under his murderous gaze, averting their eyes to avoid attracting his wrath. The scion of the Zanis Family had made it clear he did not tolerate failure, especially when it involved something as critical as this.

Although, the generals were terrified, they knew his rage was justified. Augustus had invested an astronomical sum of resources into distributing this compound across every city and fortress throughout the Exilon World, so it could be deployed within minutes, transforming even children into powerful weapons of mass destruction. It had been his trump card, meant to instantly turn the tides of battle. Yet now, thanks to this inexplicable setback, his great plan had collapsed completely.

The suffocating silence from his generals only fueled his anger, but before violence could erupt, a calm voice cut through the tension.

"The only plausible answer is the presence of spies," Orfry stated firmly, stepping forward into Augustus’s line of sight.

The mere suggestion of infiltration sparked another surge of fury in Augustus’s chest. He despised deflection and hated excuses even more. Yet he paused, holding himself back, narrowing his eyes and indicating that Orfry should continue.

Orfry recognized the severity of the accusation he was making. He understood clearly that it meant accusing his comrades, but the alternative—that one of the generals had failed to secure the information—would lead to immediate executions. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he proceeded carefully.

"Our enemies have proven masters in genetic manipulation, as clearly demonstrated by the beasts they unleashed during the clashes on the Asaris Continent. Yet, despite their expertise, creating a neutralizing agent for the Blood Combustion Compound within less than a year should have been impossible without exact schematics and detailed biological data."

Augustus’s rage softened marginally, and he gestured impatiently for Orfry to continue.

"Only nine people had access to that information, and notably, one of those individuals vanished from the fortress mysteriously just this morning. Initially, I thought little of it. However, the timing is now suspiciously convenient," Orfry explained carefully.

Augustus’s eyes sharpened dangerously, a deep scowl forming across his face. He finally spoke, voice edged with disbelief. "How could the invaders have possibly infiltrated us? They arrived less than a year ago. Those nine individuals have served loyally for decades. Furthermore, our internal security protocols were specifically enhanced to detect mind-controlling parasites, like those used at the Azalisk Stronghold."

Orfry remained unfazed by Augustus’s skepticism. He knew how critical the next words he chose would be. He stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly but maintaining eye contact.

"I don’t believe the spy was planted by the invaders directly. Instead, I strongly suspect the involvement of the rebellion."

"The rebellion?" One of the generals that went by the name of Pantion interjected immediately, his voice brimming with indignation. "Those mongrels lack the discipline, sophistication, and resources required for such a coordinated and elaborate scheme."

Pantion’s defensive reaction came swiftly. After all, he was tasked with suppressing and managing the rebellion. If Orfry’s accusation proved true, Pantion would bear the responsibility for a colossal security failure. The realization sent panic flashing through his eyes.

Orfry regarded Pantion coldly, unable to hide his contempt. He had always considered Pantion incompetent—a self-promoting coward who inflated his own achievements. Until now, Orfry had restrained himself from openly challenging Pantion due to the man’s influential position within the Zanis Family. Today, circumstances were different.

Turning directly toward Augustus, Orfry spoke deliberately, each word sharp and precise. "I have long believed the rebellion to be more sophisticated than mere scattered troublemakers. Their apparent randomness is a disguise. I’ve studied their patterns, their maneuvers. Every time we’ve found a group and we march to exterminate them, they’ve cunningly diverted our attention away from the western inhospitable continent—precisely the same region the invaders boldly traversed just a few months ago."

A wave of realization visibly swept across the faces of those present. Eyes widened as the implications sank in deeply. If the rebellion and the invaders had indeed made contact within the inhospitable continent, the possibility of a spy operating undetected for decades became alarmingly realistic.

"You have no concrete proof—only speculation," Pantion shot back defensively, his voice wavering with anxiety as pressure mounted against him.

Orfry did not blink, fixing Pantion with a penetrating stare. "Our battles and pursuits always conveniently led us away from those inhospitable regions—areas you consistently fail to investigate fully. The invaders advanced confidently into lands we believed empty. Now, with impossible swiftness, they possess critical, deeply guarded secrets only an internal source could have provided."

Pausing momentarily, Orfry glanced meaningfully around the room, holding the attention of every general. "One incident may be chance. Twice could be coincidence. But three clear instances form an undeniable pattern."

Pantion’s entire frame trembled with barely concealed terror. His fellow generals subtly nodded, silently agreeing with Orfry’s assessment. Desperate, Pantion turned to Augustus, attempting to plead, "Cousin, I—"

But before another word left Pantion’s lips, Augustus raised his hand, eyes dark with resolve. With a swift motion, Pantion’s body exploded violently, reduced instantly to a grisly spectacle. Silence returned to the room as pieces of the general’s remains scattered across the floor.