Lord of the Truth - Chapter 1060

Chapter 1060: The difference between stars and dust

“Noooooo!!!” Amon’s thunderous scream sounded as though it might tear his insides apart.

“Arghh, you bastard, my ears hurt!” One of the generals near Amon clutched his ears in pain and lashed out in irritation.

Amon, fully focused on the city, had no chance to defend against the attack. Bang! The next moment, he found himself on the ground, tumbling several times before coming to a halt.

“What? Did you think you’d grow stronger because you’re angry? Hahaha!” Another general approached from behind and struck him on the back of the head with a hammer. Bang!

“Pfft…” Completely defeated, Amon couldn’t even see them anymore, and poured all his soul sense toward the city.

Tens of thousands of soldiers had entered the city in the blink of an eye. Soon, they would spread out and begin targeting Supreme General Caesar, Supreme General Sakaar, Crown Prince Richard, and even the Lord himself. All of it because of him.

“No…”

Boom!

“AHH–!!”

“Marshal Lunta? Marshal Snaite?! What are you doing– Aaargh!!”

At that moment, the sound of an explosion erupted from the city, followed by wails and screams of death.

“Hmm?” One of the five generals froze mid-swing, his weapon poised to strike Amon’s neck. “What’s happening over there?!”

Clatter! Clatter!

“Fwooo~~”

The generals couldn’t see what had happened at first, but soon they witnessed a massive three-horned mammoth trampling their soldiers inside the city, with dozens of martial emperors wreaking havoc among them.

“Kill them! There are only a hundred! We can take them down!” The soldiers inside the city tried to bolster their courage. They were still the seasoned army of the Great Serpent Empire; how could they falter from a mere enemy ambush?

Bam! Bam! Bam!

The organized army quickly launched a unified assault on the hundred combat emperors. Tens of thousands of attacks flew chaotically through the air in a terrifying display. No matter how fast the hundred combat emperors, along with Marshals Lunta and Snaite, were, they couldn’t avoid them all.

“What’s going on?!”

But what was even more terrifying than the chaotic assault was the fact that every wound inflicted on the silver emperors healed rapidly, and they continued their slaughter as though nothing had happened.

“They’re soul creatures!!” one of the generals surrounding Amon muttered in frustration.

“No…” Amon murmured softly, his soul seemingly weeping.

There was only one person on their side who had soul creatures—the Lord, and no one else. The Lord, who should have been entirely focused on fighting Pythor, had moved to fill the gap Amon had caused?! What condition was the Lord in now? His opponent would surely exploit this distraction to kill him!

“Let’s go. We need to put an end to this before they decimate the army!” Another general quickly advanced toward the wall. Whoosh!

“What about the demon?” the third general asked, pointing at Amon.

The fourth glanced at Amon, who was still lying on the ground, with a hint of pity. “Just leave him. Let’s go provide support. His skin is thick, and he won’t die easily. He’s useless in a battle of this scale anyway.”

“Tch~ Let’s move!”

Whoosh! Whoosh! Five generals and their ten aides departed hastily, leaving Amon in the valley. The terrain was treacherous, flanked by jagged ridges and looming mountains, but they cared little for their abandoned leader. Their focus was entirely on the city, where the battle raged at a fever slope. Amon’s fate? It didn’t matter.

Under normal circumstances, such blatant disregard would have ignited Amon’s infamous temper. He would have roared, leaped to his feet, and launched himself after the offenders in a blind rage. Yet, this time, Amon remained still.

His form lay crumpled on the ground, shoulders slumped, claws digging into the earth. His once-proud posture, always brimming with menace, was now replaced by a defeated silhouette. His eyes, typically filled with fiery determination—or vengeful malice—were vacant, staring at the chaotic battle unfolding before him with hollow resignation.

The battle at the wall had reached a critical juncture. Blood and screams painted the battlefield in shades of despair. The rhythmic clamor of clashing steel and the guttural roars of combatants were deafening.

Boom! Boom! Explosions reverberated from above, shaking the ground and shattering Amon’s trance. His soul sense instinctively shot upward, seeking the source of the disturbance.

“No… no…”

Above the city, amidst a tempest of chaos, Sakaar, the true King of Demons, fought valiantly against a hundred high-level martial emperors. It was a terrifying sight. Sakaar, wielding his full might, slaughtered his foes with the ruthless efficiency of a seasoned predator. In mere seconds, dozens of the enemy were reduced to crimson mists.

But even a predator can bleed.

While Sakaar unleashed devastation, the retaliatory strikes of his enemies were not in vain. His once-pristine armor, a testament to his rank and power, was battered and caved in, blood leaking from countless wounds.

Sakar was supposed to hold back. He had planned meticulously, intending to unleash his true strength twenty minutes from now, during the climax of the battle. That plan was now in tatters. The failure to halt the advancing main army had forced Sakaar’s hand prematurely. He had been thrust into an unforgiving storm of blades and claws, and the cost of his intervention was steep.

Could he hold out long enough to turn the tide?

Scratch! Scratch! Amon’s claws burrowed deeper into the dirt, drawing blood from his palms.

Of course, Sakaar would endure. He was Sakaar, after all. The King of Demons, unyielding and unstoppable. A being whose power and presence commanded both fear and respect. Even if it cost him everything, Sakaar would fight until his last breath, ensuring victory for his people.

“…?!”

Amon’s soul sense detected a new presence. He shifted his focus and saw a figure approaching the battle in the sky. It was Caesar, the Supreme General. His once-mighty form was now broken, his golden armor shattered, and his movements labored. Yet, despite his injuries, Caesar was ascending toward Sakaar with unwavering resolve.

“No… no… no…”

Caesar has been locked for nearly an hour in a one-on-one duel with an enemy marshal. Yet, the first thing to come to his mind after his victory was to aid Sakaar in another impossible fight.

He knew that Sakaar wouldn’t survive without his help.

But apparently, neither would Caesar.

Whooosh!

Near the horizon, the earth erupted in a fierce blast of Underlife Flame. Molten lava surged forth, engulfing the battlefield in an inferno of chaos.

Amon’s soul sense honed in on the source of the explosion. There, amidst the fiery maelstrom, was the Lord’s son. His body contorted unnaturally, blood spraying from ruptured veins. The sight was ghastly. His flesh seemed moments away from imploding under the strain of his power.

He was forcing himself far beyond his limits, all for the sake of the battle.

“No…”

Amon pressed his head to the ground, his claws trembling as he gripped the blood-soaked earth.

In that moment, the truth became painfully clear.

The Lord was right.

Caesar, Sakaar, and the Richard weren’t ordinary warriors. They weren’t just soldiers or commanders. They were the Pillars of the Empire, unwavering in their dedication and resolve.

Each of them faced the abyss without fear. Each of them sacrificed their bodies, their minds, and their very lives for the sake of their cause.

And what was he, Amon? A failed king, weighed down by his inadequacies, clinging to excuses and false bravado.

“This is…” Amon whispered, his voice trembling as he lifted his head. A bitter smile crept across his face, “This is the difference between us.”

Rumble Rumble

———————-

“Hoy, This is your chance!” Amon’s aide roared at the top of his lungs, his voice carrying above the cacophony of battle. “All those damned martial emperors are gone, fighting the Lord’s soul creatures! Push the right flank! Break the siege!”

His voice brimmed with desperate determination. For the first time, he dared to hope.

“Hm?”

The ground beneath the aide’s feet began to tremble.

Disturbance Disturbance

The vibrations were subtle at first, but soon the earth quaked violently. Then, the unimaginable happened.

Blood —spilled from countless bodies— began to flow. It defied gravity, seeping from the soil, cleansing itself of impurities, and coalescing into crimson spheres. Blood from the soldiers’ armor, hair, and weapons followed suit, leaping into the air and joining the macabre dance.

The battlefield froze. For a brief moment, every soldier, every general, every combatant paused, their gazes drawn to the strange phenomenon.

The blood flowed purposefully, gathering into a massive tide, surging toward a single point in the valley.

The aide’s eyes widened in horror as he traced the blood’s path.

“King… Amon?!”