CHAPTER 869: EXILON’S REBIRTH

As the days passed, the world of Exilon underwent a rebirth unlike anything it had known in its long history. The scars of war—once carved deep across the continents by the brutal conflict between the Xaos Kingdom and the Zanis Family—slowly began to fade. What had been shattered was rebuilt, and what had been lost was, in some cases, reborn even greater than before. Even the climate that had always been harsh in the world was changed, making life much easier.

Entire cities rose where ruins once lay, their architecture infused with both the practicality of mortal design and the majestic influence of divine engineering. Strongholds of immense scale were erected under the banner of Xaos, ensuring stability and order across the newly conquered land. Perhaps the most visible sign of transformation was the emergence of a vast network of towers, spreading like titanic sentinels across the continents. Each tower was linked to the others by flows of power, forming a massive energy lattice that extended not only over land and sea, but far into the void above. The network became a planetary shield, one that guaranteed no invader could ever trespass upon Exilon again without alerting the Kingdom.

Yet infrastructure was only one side of this rebirth. The other—and perhaps the more delicate—was the transformation of Exilon’s people.

Decades of Zanis’ indoctrination had left deep scars on the minds of countless citizens. Generations had been brainwashed, their loyalty warped to the point that they would readily sacrifice themselves for the Zanis’ cause, attacking any who opposed their former masters. In an age of war, the Xaos Kingdom might have been forced to adopt ruthless measures, exterminating those beyond saving. But now, in the aftermath of victory, time and resources were on their side. They could afford to pursue a different path.

Overlord himself favored efficiency. To him, erasing the remnants of the Zanis faithful would have been a simple calculation. Each mind salvaged required the equivalent resources of a Guardian-tier set of armor and weaponry, an expense he deemed wasteful. Yet the AI Chip Clone, ever attuned to the priorities of the Prime Master, reminded him that ethics mattered—not only for morality’s sake, but for political stability. The people of the Rebellion, who had bled and sacrificed for freedom, would not easily accept mass executions. Helping the brainwashed meant keeping allies loyal and ensuring long-term peace.

So, rather than destruction, rehabilitation was chosen. Through the careful use of soul spells, mind-healing elixirs, and intensive therapy, the veil was lifted from countless eyes. For the first time, these citizens saw the truth: that the Zanis Family had raised them not as people, but as disposable tools, bred for war and destined to die as pawns. Slowly, painfully, they began to reclaim their individuality.

By the end of the first year of peace, Exilon’s cities thrived once more. Markets bustled with trade, homes filled with families, and laughter echoed where once there had only been marching boots. To the casual eye, it might have looked as though life had returned to what it was before the war. But those who had lived through both eras knew this new peace was something greater.

The brutal tactics of the Zanis—tearing children from their homes, stripping them of childhood, and molding them into soldiers—were abolished forever. In their place, the codes of Terra, the guiding principles of the Xaos Kingdom, were established on Exilon. Slowly but surely, the culture began to shift.

Children were no longer tools of war. They were protected, nurtured, and allowed to experience joy. They grew strong not through battlefields but through peaceful cultivation, supported by their families. Those who later chose the path of soldiering did so by will, not by force. And they were tested not only in strength, but in spirit, proving their discipline, psychological resilience, and moral clarity.

The Xaos Kingdom’s army became a force unlike any other. Instead of filling its ranks with masses of low-level conscripts, it trained only elites, warriors honed to perfection. The numbers were smaller, but each soldier was outfitted with the finest weapons, armor, elixirs, and treasures the Kingdom could provide. Through rigorous training and enhancement, each warrior could face four or five enemies of equal rank without faltering. For battles that required overwhelming numbers, the Kingdom relied on Thanatos’ unit and war machines—soulless constructs built for battle, disposable tools that spared human lives.

Still, fairness and prosperity did not mean freedom from control. Martial law remained in place throughout the reconstruction, with every key aspect of governance overseen by Xaos generals and administrators. Yet this was never intended to last forever.

Once the military defenses were completed, and once former soldiers and civilians were rehabilitated and returned to their homes, a new system of government was introduced. Across the continents, duchies were established—not ruled by Xaos appointees, but by the brightest minds of the Rebellion itself.

The logic was simple: who better to govern a liberated world than its own people? They understood the struggles of the masses, the needs of the workers, the wounds of the soldiers, and the grief of the widows. By placing power in the hands of Exilon’s own, Xaos ensured not only effective governance but also the loyalty of the Rebellion.

For while the Rebellion had fought side by side with Xaos, they had never ceased to view the Kingdom as conquerors—alien rulers from beyond. Allowing them to govern their own world shifted that perception. Now, if discontent arose, it could be solved from within, through their own leaders, rather than through rebellion.

On the highest mountain overlooking one of the newly reborn cities stood a young man. His figure seemed sculpted by divine hands, with short golden hair that shimmered like sunlight and eyes as blue and deep as the ocean itself. His aura radiated calm power, yet also a quiet melancholy.

This man was none other than Cezar, the former leader of the Rebellion.

After the war, Cezar had been granted access to legendary medicines, rare treasures, and divine baths that not only healed the scars of his body but elevated his cultivation. Within a single year, he had risen to the might of a Sage, a feat that would have taken others decades.

Yet even as strength surged within him, his heart remained heavy. His gaze lingered on the distant city, and he released a small sigh.