Lord of the Truth - Chapter 1261

Chapter 1261: News from the demons -2
“…I sincerely hope you’re not troubled by this, Sakaar,” Robin said, exhaling softly as he addressed the demon general’s comment about relocating their kind from the planet. “You’ve witnessed the situation firsthand…”

“Troubled? Not in the slightest,” Sakaar replied, his voice as calm and unshakable as ever. “From the earliest days of my consciousness — from the moment my mind began to piece itself together — I’ve known something was fundamentally different, perhaps even wrong, about our race. The moment I learned that our strength increases only through the consumption of sentient, intelligent life, I realized: something about us is unnatural. And as the years passed, that suspicion hardened into certainty. We are the Red Plague. A living disease. A biological catastrophe. Enemies of life itself.”

He paused for a brief moment, his words firm and clear.

“And yet… despite all that, you, my Lord, took us in. You taught us how to hear and speak, civilized and embraced us. And not just you — even your followers, those who stand beside you with pride and loyalty — they treat us not with fear or hatred, but with fairness and respect. In truth, we’ve been given more than we ever dared to dream. What more could we possibly ask for?”

Raising his chin slightly, his voice now held the quiet weight of conviction.

“But we must still understand our place in the world, and act accordingly. We must hide ourselves well when we are beyond the borders of our own kind, and avoid attracting attention or suspicion. Not out of weakness — but out of wisdom. For if we fall, we will not fall alone. We risk dragging the entire Empire, YOUR Empire… into the abyss with us.”

Robin stared at him in thoughtful silence for a few lingering seconds, as though he were weighing something heavy. Then, slowly, he gestured toward him before turning to Amon.

“Amon… you were the first to stand at my side in the land of Nihari. You were the first to bridge the great distance between me and the demon race. You were the pioneer who placed your people onto the first steps of a path they had never walked before. But let me speak plainly—if not for your companion here,” he nodded toward Sakaar, “I truly don’t think your race would’ve survived until this day.”

“You’ve grown strong, Amon. Strong enough to hold the rank of Supreme General—one who receives orders directly from me and no other. But I ask this of you, as a personal request: assist Sakaar in every way possible when it comes to managing the inner workings of your people. He leads with clarity and foresight, and I don’t want your pride to stop you from taking his commands seriously.”

“I understand completely, my lord,” Amon said, firm and resolute. “I’ve long since entrusted the internal affairs of our kind to Sakaar. I concern myself solely with the battlefield and the war effort. Everything else lies in his hands. If one day he were to tell me to end my own life for the good of our people, or for your sake—I would do it. Without hesitation. Without regret.”

“Let’s hope it never comes to that!” Robin let out a deep, genuine laugh. Then his gaze flicked back and forth between the two demon commanders.

“So, tell me—are there any other pieces of good news from the demon legions? Have any new ‘mutants’ emerged recently?”

“We’re close,” Sakaar replied in his usual steady tone. “Our criteria for selecting generals are strict. We choose them based on personal strength, distinct abilities, and leadership qualities. In that sense, each general could be considered a semi-mutant, if you will. Especially now, after so many grueling battles and life-or-death experiences, their true powers have started to surface. But they haven’t yet bloomed fully. Not enough to compare to Amon or myself.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “In your opinion, what’s preventing them from completing their transformation?”

“There are three factors,” Sakaar said confidently. “Innate talent, life experience, and time. Talent is the foundation. I was born with a natural affinity for the Blood Path—none of them share that same core. As for experience—Amon has walked through fire and death more times than any of them. His body and will were forged in war. They do not yet possess his unbreakable resolve. But I believe that with time—plenty of time—they can compensate for what they lack. Time will allow them to deepen their resonance with the Path of Blood… and perhaps one day, awaken to their true selves.”

“In that case…” Robin smiled, his expression brightening, “let’s help speed up the process.”

He raised his hand in a soft wave, and continued with an air of sincerity:

“I know, more than anyone, how unfortunate your people have been within the Empire. I’ve never granted you any good techniques. At the start, I tried introducing you to the internal energy system, but it quickly became clear that it didn’t suit your race. Even the tattoo system turned out incompatible in many ways. You are not creatures of mana or energy — you are blood-born, and to blood you shall return.”

“I initially decided to leave the matter alone. The study of blood is vast—far more complex and dangerous than it appears. It rivals the difficulty of understanding the soul. And back then, I saw no signs of evolution among your kind. No one trying to unravel the mysteries of your bloodline. So even if I had pursued that knowledge—what would I have done with it?”

He then looked toward Amon once more, this time with a glint of inspiration in his eye.

“But witnessing your colossal transformation in Hope City… it changed something in me. It reminded me that evolution for your kind is possible. That maybe… just maybe… what you need is the right push.”

Robin smiled again — this time with warmth in his voice.

“So I think all of you owe Amon your thanks — again. For the second time, he has rekindled my belief that the demon race still has a future. For the second time… he has set your people back on the path of possibility.”

“…..”

Amon held his silence.

He hadn’t experienced shyness often… but if there was ever a moment that defined it, this was surely it.

“My Lord… what do you mean by that exactly?”

Sakaar leaned forward slightly, his voice low but intense, filled with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. He could sense something immense approaching.

Without another word, Robin reached beside his throne and retrieved a large, rectangular metal slab—its surface glowing faintly with silver glyphs and complex script. It was as large and dense as the tablets that bore the Laws of Time and Space themselves.

With a calm and almost ceremonial gesture, he handed the tablet over to Sakaar.

“Take this,” he said simply, but his eyes gleamed with meaning.

“…This…?!”

Sakaar instinctively channeled his soul force into the tablet’s surface. The moment his essence made contact, a tidal wave of information crashed into his consciousness—raw, structured, ancient, and advanced all at once.

The influx was so overwhelming that his mind blanked out for a brief moment. Time itself seemed to freeze around him.

“Brother, what’s happening? What do you see?!”

Amon asked quickly, alarmed by Sakaar’s frozen state.

Robin’s voice cut through the tension smoothly.

“What he sees is the culmination of many years of research. Not rumors. Not myths. But data—real, tested, refined research. It is the product of every experiment I’ve ever conducted on blood—be it the blood of beast, of humans, or of the other intelligent races scattered across Jura.”

He tapped the tablet gently as he continued, his voice deepening with gravitas.

“And above all… it contains detailed research into the blood of your kind—the demons. I explored its origin, its behavior under stress, its reaction to energy, its affinity to transformation. There are notes on the internal structure of your blood vessels. Instructions on how to maximize the absorption of essence from defeated enemies. Diagrams of optimal blood flow. Strategies for energy conversion.”

He turned to Amon.

“There’s also a comparative analysis between your blood before and after your transformation at Hope City—an attempt to explain what triggered your evolution. And there’s data on what happens when Sakaar compresses his blood, what mechanisms fire off in your cells when your body enlarges, and even theoretical pathways to other potential transformations that could rival your current form.”

“…..”

If Amon had physical eyes beneath his mask, they might’ve rolled back from the mental overload.

His mouth opened slowly, his expression slack with disbelief.

He could only stand there frozen, absorbing word after word, idea after idea—concepts he had never dreamed of, let alone studied.

“Huff… Huff…”

Several long minutes passed before Sakaar was able to collect himself again. His breath returned in sharp gasps, his body trembling slightly from the weight of what he had just absorbed.

Finally, he looked up toward his master, his voice trembling with awe.

“My Lord… This… what exactly is this…?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Robin replied gently. “It’s not a complete cultivation technique. You won’t find secret arts or mystical seals like the ones I’ve given to my other armies. This is… raw knowledge. Field research. Suggestions. Possibilities. Insights. It’s theory, not practice. And for that, I’m sorry.”

He exhaled, eyes drifting briefly toward the floor. Despite having spent so many years delving into the mysteries of blood, he still felt he had failed the demon race in some way.

“…..”

Sakaar stared at him for a moment more. Then, suddenly, with no hesitation, he lowered himself to the ground—knees first, then hands. His voice was low, reverent.

“We could never have imagined receiving a gift greater than this. This… this is more than power. This is hope.”

Thud!

Amon followed instantly, kneeling beside him with equal fervor.

“The demon race will forever remember your kindness, your vision, your belief in us, my Lord.”

“Hey! What’s with all this bowing and scraping?”

Robin chuckled, descending from his throne with a light step. He moved to them quickly and helped both of the towering warriors to their feet. His smile was broad, filled with warmth.

“As long as you don’t feel neglected… then I am content.”

“Neglected? My Lord, how could we even think that?”

Sakar lifted the tablet again with both hands, eyes burning with renewed purpose.

“With this alone, we now stand on equal footing with the other two great armies of your empire. In fact, just with me and Amon, we can still suppress them. And now, with this sacred knowledge in hand? If I can’t forge a new generation of mutants from this… then we demons have no right to stand beside you at all!”

“There will be more mutants?”

Amon asked, voice full of hope and disbelief. He hadn’t seen what Sakaar had. He only heard bits and pieces from Robin’s explanation.

Sakaar turned to his longtime comrade and nodded firmly, eyes filled with fire.

“At the very least— all of the generals.”

“…!!”

A loud, involuntary gasp escaped Amon’s throat. And once again, overwhelmed with emotion, he began to lower himself to the floor in a kneel, “Thank you, my Loooord!!”

“Hold it!”

Robin caught him halfway, chuckling as he halted the motion with a light push. Then he turned them both around and gently guided them toward the great chamber doors.

“Heheheh… Go on now. Go—go out there and forge me an entire army of mutant demons!”