Lord of the Truth - Chapter 1069

Chapter 1069: Realization
Sakaar and Caesar turned their gazes towards the newcomer— It was Richard.

The young man’s hair was still ablaze with thick green flames, and his face bore a wide, almost unsettling grin stretching from ear to ear as if he wanted to flaunt his perfectly aligned teeth. His eyes were wide open, radiating an intense eagerness, clearly ready to offer the help he had promised. However— Pssht Pssht —

“…?”

Both Sakaar and Caesar noticed something alarming. The veins and arteries in Richard’s shoulder were torn to varying degrees, and they could see, with their naked eyes, his blood seeping out steadily, trickling down like a leaking faucet.

“…Richard, are you okay?” Caesar floated slightly forward, concern evident in his voice.

“Of course I’m okay! Why would you even ask?” Richard laughed loudly, his voice filled with forced enthusiasm. Then, with practiced ease, he reached into his spatial ring and pulled out an object. “Look at this!”

Both Sakaar and Caesar narrowed their eyes sharply. In Richard’s hand was a dark blue pyramid. Its presence alone sent alarm bells ringing in their minds. If Richard had it, that could only mean one thing.

“…What happened to the marshals, Zanox, and Lacrosse?”

“Haha! I killed them, of course!” Richard chuckled, his voice laced with an eerie sense of triumph. “They were good at hiding, but how long could they possibly hide from me? Hahaha!”

PSSSHHHT

Even as he laughed, several blood vessels in his neck ruptured, spraying fresh blood right onto Caesar’s face.

“…!” Caesar slowly wiped the blood off his face, his eyes locking onto Richard’s. For the first time in a long while, a genuine sense of fear settled in his heart.

What he saw in Richard’s eyes was a mixture of pain hidden behind excitement and weakness masked by an unwillingness to stop. Richard was trying desperately to conceal the immense strain his body was under by acting as if nothing was wrong… Either that, or he had truly gone mad.

Caesar stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Richard’s trembling shoulder. “…Little brother, I don’t think you’re in any condition to—”

“Stop worrying so much; we’re in a war!”

Sakaar cut him off abruptly and pointed to the right flank. “Son of the Lord, I’ll be counting on you to cover me from that side, while brother Caesar will cover the other, you two just handle the defense, and My five Daisies will handle the offensive.”

“Understood!”

Without hesitation, Richard dashed toward the designated position, instantly locking onto an enemy. His hands shot out like lightning, grabbing the opponent by the throat. “AH!!!”

Caesar sighed deeply as he watched Richard dive into the fray, his movements fueled by adrenaline and sheer willpower.

“…The boy’s not alright. You noticed it too— why did you send him back into battle?” Caesar spoke weakly, his eyes never leaving Richard.

Sakaar laughed bitterly. “He’s in better shape than both of us!”

He gestured to himself, his body riddled with gruesome injuries, his left arm barely hanging on by a thread of muscle and tendon. As for Caesar, he looked like a walking corpse, barely holding himself together with sheer determination and making small talk.

And yet, here Caesar was, worrying about Richard losing a few liters of blood.

———————

Step. RUMBLE.

“Fire! Fire everything you’ve got!!”

A general from the Great Serpent Empire’s army bellowed orders at the top of his lungs.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Tens of thousands of soldiers from the Great Serpent Empire unleashed their might upon the largest and easiest target they had ever seen in their lives.

BOOOOOOOM!

Amon’s colossal body was set ablaze, frozen, and corroded—all in the same instant. No matter how strong one was, taking a hundred thousand attacks simultaneously was not an experience anyone could walk away from unscathed.

“…..OHHHHHHHH!!!”

A deafening roar of pain tore through the battlefield as Amon staggered backward, each step causing the ground to tremble under his immense weight. Step. Step. RUMBLE. But, despite the overwhelming barrage, he managed to steady himself before collapsing completely.

“Protect the Great Infernal MASSSTTTEEEEER!!!” The demon army roared in shame, furious that they had allowed such a devastating attack to land.

They pushed forward with renewed vigor, but the sheer numerical difference between them and the Great Serpent Empire’s forces was overwhelming. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t reach the soldiers positioned safely in the backlines.

“…!!!”

Amon, the towering giant, opened his mouth and let out a low-frequency roar—inaudible to the human ear, yet powerful enough to shake the air around them. Hearts clenched in response to the unseen force.

From every wound and crack on his immense body, blood burst forth, sizzling and quenching the raging fires while neutralizing the lingering effects of the attack. The same blood then slithered back into his veins, reabsorbed into his colossal frame.

With great effort, he lifted his foot once more and began advancing.

“Prepare for the second wave…”

The general of the Great Serpent Empire’s army raised his hand, scanning the battlefield carefully to ensure every unit was in place. Then, with a sharp motion, he swung his arm down, shouting:

“FIR—!”

FOOOOOOOOOSH

ROOOOOOOOAAAARRR!

Before the command could be completed, seven silver soul creatures appeared, descending upon the right flank of the Serpent Empire’s army. In mere moments, they obliterated an entire battalion’s formation, scattering soldiers in chaotic disarray.

“DAMN IT! What in the hell is the seventy-seventh prince doing?!” The general bellowed furiously, his composure cracking.

Those few moments of hesitation were all Amon needed to take two more thunderous steps forward.

“…..OOOOOOHHH….!!!”

His massive hand descended from the heavens like a meteorite.

“…Oh no…”

The general looked up, but he no longer saw the sky.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

———————-

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the battlefield…

“…This isn’t fair!”

Pythor pointed an accusatory finger at the soul creature standing before him—a creature that had once been his very own son.

“You’re using my flesh and blood against me?!” His voice trembled with a mix of anger and disbelief.

CRACK CRACK

Rubin emerged from the debris, brushing off the rubble accumulated over him. His forehead was bleeding from two brutal headbutts Pythor had landed earlier, but other than that, he seemed relatively unscathed.

“Your flesh and blood, huh?” Rubin wiped his forehead and spat out, his tone laced with mockery. “Tell me, what’s his name?”

Baithor hesitated for a moment. “…Moshila—”

“His name is Seth. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

Rubin waved his hand dismissively, irritation flashing across his face. He had learned a thing or two about Seth after shattering his primal soul and absorbing it.

“…Amm—!!” Pythor raised a finger, as if about to argue, but then let his hand drop and looked away, muttering, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

He took a quick sweeping glance across the battlefield, processing the grim state of his forces. And then he extended his soul senses further.

What he discovered struck him like a bolt of lightning, “My four marshals… They’re all dead?!”

“You should have been more worried about them once you realized what laws my boys wield.”

Rubin shrugged lightly, buying himself time to tend to his wounds and halt his bleeding.

Pythor stood silent for five full seconds, his gaze drifting in four different directions—toward the shredded remains of his subordinates.

Two seconds of that were spent staring at the severed head of his closest confidant, Celebus, which was now being used as an armrest by Holak.

His eyes then scanned the battlefield, where Sakaar, Richard, and Caesar were systematically tearing through his elite guards and marshals one after another.

Further back, Amon crushed his soldiers underfoot, while the invading soul creatures obliterated everything in their path.

The warlords —once struggling to hold the front lines— were now pushing their opponents back, slowly gravitating toward the central battle between the demon emperors and the Great Serpent Empire’s imperial generals. That was the only front they were still losing.

The warlords were moving in to act like fortresses, to absorb the pressure and balance the tides of battle.

Pythor spent several more seconds absorbing the unfolding disaster, then muttered under his breath:

“…The scene I’m witnessing now… Was all of this your doing? Did you anticipate it would come to this?”

Rubin glanced around the battlefield as well, a small smile forming on his lips. “The only credit I’ll take…” he said, cracking his knuckles, “…is that I chose the right men.”

“I see…” Pythor nodded slowly.

Without hesitation, he reached into his travel pouch and pulled out a transmission device, his fingers trembling slightly as he spoke into it:

“Seventh son, bring the entire southern army here. Immediately.”