CHAPTER 833: A FEAST

"Besides... we are one now."

A wave of utter and absolute doom surged through Orfry the moment those words echoed in his mind. Trembling, he looked down at himself—and what he saw filled him with a horror unlike anything he had ever known.

His body was no longer his own.

He didn’t know when it had happened, or how, but somehow, his entire being had merged into the nightmare realm. His flesh had become part of a greater, pulsating mass of madness and chaos—no longer human, no longer separate. He could feel the edges of his existence fraying, unraveling into something alien and terrifying.

"No, no, no, no—NO!" Orfry screamed, but his voice was drowned instantly, swallowed by the formless void. His words dissolved into nothingness as his physical form continued to morph and merge, becoming indistinguishable from the writhing, demonic dimension that now surrounded him.

"That’s right," the ancient voice intoned again, this time laced with excitement, almost glee. "Let despair and hopelessness overtake you. Only in total surrender can your mind be liberated—and reach heights beyond your wildest comprehension."

The voice reverberated like an ecstatic symphony, vibrating through Orfry’s bones, his soul, his very thoughts.

In the physical world, his body still lay in bed, appearing to sleep peacefully.

But suddenly, it began to tremble violently. His bones cracked and popped beneath the skin. His flesh blistered and warped, bubbling up as if boiling from within. It was as though his entire existence were being rewritten.

His form expanded grotesquely, transforming into a nightmarish tumorous mass—bulging with eyes, mouths, and twitching tendrils. The walls of his residence trembled from the sheer force of the transformation, threatening to shatter and expose his horrible form to the rest of the fortress.

But then, just as suddenly, the form shrank again—compressing, twisting, reshaping itself back into something humanoid.

Orfry opened his eyes.

But the being that now inhabited his body was no longer simply Orfry.

His gaze shone with a sharp, unnatural light—eyes that contained answers to questions no human had dared ask. Eyes that viewed even the wildest chaos as nothing more than a carefully cultivated garden, one he could stroll through at will. He could see everything. Understand everything.

He was Orfry—but now more. Much more.

All the memories of the young strategist, his thoughts, emotions, ambitions—they had been absorbed into the ancient entity that had claimed him. And with that information, the creature quickly assessed the current state of Exilon.

"Hmm... numbers alone will not be enough," he mused aloud, his voice calm, calculating. "That man, and his people... they are far too well trained. His agents are elite—able to traverse even the harshest terrain and guide their armies to perfect victory. I suppose I’ll have to... even the odds."

Orfry opened his mouth but did not stop there. His jaw split cleanly in half, unhinging downward in a grotesque arc that tore open his chest. The gory display would have been horrifying to behold, and it only grew more revolting as it became clear he was trying to expel something—to vomit out a creature, or an object.

But his body trembled, resisting.

And the maw of darkness sealed itself shut.

A frown creased his face as he examined his form.

"Not strong enough yet," he murmured. "His mind is exquisite—a delight to assimilate—but his body is still far too weak. No matter. Cultivation, for your kind, is grueling. For me... It’s a feast."

Without further thought, the being once known as Orfry rose silently into the air, slipping from the Zanis fortress unnoticed, his body cloaked in unnatural stillness. Within moments, he reached a massive city—surrounded by towering walls and home to millions. There were soldiers stationed throughout, yes, but also countless civilians. Families. Children. Elders.

He hovered above them.

And then raised his hand.

A dark stream of psychic energy surged from his fingertip, forming intricate sigils mid-air—symbols too complex, too alien for the human mind to comprehend. With a flick, he sent the sigil hurtling toward the city walls.

The moment it struck, the stone erupted in dark fire—black and purple flames that radiated such intense heat that just standing nearby would melt the skin off anyone below Champion level. Panic erupted. Screams rang out as the fire spread.

But this was only the beginning.

"BOOOOOOM!"

A meteor of flesh slammed into the center of the city. It was not a rock, but a mass—pulsating and living, covered in blinking eyes and gnashing mouths. And it began to grow.

It expanded violently, consuming streets, buildings, and people with equal disregard. Every time it swallowed a life, it grew faster, larger, its surface pulsing with grotesque satisfaction. It tore through homes, wrapped tendrils around panicked citizens, pulled them into its churning belly. Screams filled the air—some begging, some praying, some crying for help that would never come.

The people ran, but there was nowhere to go.

Some, in desperation, rushed toward the burning walls, believing the fire would be more merciful than the living abomination in their midst. They were wrong. As they crossed the threshold, their bodies ignited within seconds—flesh turning black, muscle sloughing off bones until only ashes remained.

The tumor grew until the city had become an ocean of malformed flesh, moving with horrifying autonomy. It continued its feast until every voice had gone silent.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the mass shrank, folding into itself like a dying star, withdrawing every twisted mouth and screaming eye. The meteor reversed its transformation, becoming a humanoid shape once again.

Orfry stood in the middle of the ruined city—silent, calm, and impossibly composed. However, inside him, there were countless screams and horror. He did not just consume their bodies, as their souls were also inside of him right now; all of them trembled in horror and despair as they were expanding his realm, adding to his growing consciousness.

He clenched his fists, generating a physical burst of power that surpassed that of a normal Legend.

"Yes," he whispered. "Now the game begins."