CHAPTER 839: A FLAW CAN’T OBSCURE ITS BRILLIANCE

After the excitement faded, Aerin clenched her small fists, psyching herself up. With ten death-substitute artifacts in hand, she felt she finally had the resources to be a little reckless. She adored the bracelets, immediately putting one on each wrist.

Not long ago, when the Forest of Nature had been invaded, the peace-loving Wood Elves had immediately organized a resistance.

As an Alpha-tier survivor, Aerin had naturally become a mid-to-high-ranking officer, leading her own squad on patrol. The patrols were relentless and without rest, which was why Orion had been unable to reach her on the Platform.

During one of those invasions, Aerin had watched her companion, a squad leader, die right before her eyes. It was the first time she had felt death so close, the first time she truly understood that the peace her people cherished had been stolen from them.

The moment the enemy temporarily retreated, the first thing Aerin did upon returning to her treehouse was to bombard Orion with messages. It felt like the only way to soothe her panicked heart. And it had worked. When Orion finally responded, she had been happy enough to fly.

"Right, the plague," she muttered to herself, her joy not distracting her from the real threat. "I need to search the Survivor’s Platform for anything that can fight the plague. I need to find materials to craft some anti-plague potions for myself."

Her own life was at stake. In the face of annihilation, all dignity, shame, and pride had to be cast aside.

In Stoneheart City, upon the throne.

Aerin’s world had been invaded. Orion wondered if it was an internal war or a cross-realm invasion. If it was the latter, he was genuinely interested in extending his influence to her world. But he couldn’t be sure yet, so he would not be hasty.

Besides, even if he were to make a move, he would wait for Aerin to ask first. If, for example, she invited him to aid her in battle, it would give him the perfect justification to establish a foothold.

Afterward, she would have no grounds to complain, as she had invited him willingly.

For now, it was a speculative play, a seed planted in a distant garden. Whether it would blossom and bear fruit, he could only wait and see.

Aerin’s plight, however, did remind him of someone: Artemis, the creator of the Plague Totem Pole. When Blackstone City had been corrupted by the plague-infested crows, Orion had weathered the storm by purchasing one of those very totems.

Back then, his power was limited and his insight shallow; he hadn’t understood the totem’s true nature. But now, as an Archlord with his own Horde Hall, he understood perfectly. Artemis was a Legendary-tier lord, masquerading as an Alpha to sell his wares.

The sinister purpose was now obvious. A Plague Totem Pole absorbed plague from a given area, which was a good thing. But the plague itself was saturated with the emotions of the infected; it carried a form of faith.

In other words, the totem would imperceptibly steal the faith energy of the territory it occupied. For any survivor who was not a lord, this mechanism was unknown and, without special means, undetectable. The totem was a dangerous item, one that could potentially expose its world’s coordinates to those with malicious intent.

However, after Orion’s own ascension, the totem no longer posed a threat to him. Whenever he purchased one, he could simply purify and destroy the hidden, parasitic component, turning it into a genuinely beneficial artifact.

Thinking of the soon-to-be-opened City of the Guardian, his planned underwater metropolis, and Lysinthia’s impending conquest of the Serpent Isle, Orion knew he would need more. He found Artemis in his friends list and sent a message.

"Hey, buddy. Business has come knocking."

"I need to custom order ten of the largest Plague Totem Poles. And twenty each of the large, medium, and small models."

It was a massive deal, one designed to test Artemis’s reaction. An order of this size would surely arouse his suspicion and might even bait him into revealing himself.

"Are you kidding?"

Seeing the reply, Orion’s confidence in his theory grew.

In reality, survivors below the Legendary tier rarely had time to loiter on the Survivor’s Platform. Faced with the brutal competition and cruelty of their own worlds, they were singularly focused on increasing their strength.

For them, life was training, and more training. They only entered the Platform when they needed to purchase a specific item they had long saved for. The ones who spent their time constantly scouring the Platform for goods were the old monsters and masterminds of the Legendary tier and above.

"I’m not joking."

Artemis was silent for a long time. He seemed to realize the implications of such an order.

"Have you reached the Legendary tier?"

Artemis knew that only a lord with vast territories would need to build multiple cities. And for city-building, items like the Plague Totem Pole, which improved a territory’s habitability, were necessities and bestsellers.

"Yes."

Orion didn’t deny it. Artemis fell silent once more, this time for even longer. After a good while, having apparently decided how to approach this new relationship, he finally replied.

"You know about the tricks in the Plague Totem Pole, don’t you?"

"I do."

"Then why are you still coming to me to buy them? Are you mocking me?"

A smile slowly formed in Orion’s eyes. The fact that Artemis could ask this so calmly was a tacit admission of his little schemes.

"I told you, I’m not joking, and I’m certainly not mocking you."

"Setting aside the little trinkets you hide inside them, the Plague Totem Pole is genuinely a good thing. A flaw can’t obscure its brilliance. A good thing is a good thing."

Orion’s attitude was clear. He genuinely affirmed the value of Artemis’s creation. In fact, both Blackstone City and Stoneheart City were protected by Plague Totem Poles purchased from him. Furthermore, Orion understood the principle that cutting off a man’s livelihood was a grave offense. He had no intention of exposing the totem’s flaws or shouting it from the rooftops. He had contacted Artemis for business, and to make a new friend.

"So, you really are here for a big purchase?"

"Of course. And I would be happy to have another friend like you."

"Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Tangere, a plague lord."

"Hulk, a giant lord."

Tangere, also known as Artemis, was direct, revealing his name without hesitation. The truth was, he was also willing to gain a new Legendary-tier friend.

In many cases, such friends were channels for selling one’s goods and for acquiring rare resources. It was a mutually beneficial relationship.

Among lords, sharing intelligence, exchanging goods, and networking were common practice. This was how connections, the very fabric of power, were built one by one.