Lord of the Truth

1074  King Amon's dominance

Amon raised his colossal leg high into the air, his every movement radiating pure dominance. The sheer scale of his limb—taller than most towers—cast an immense shadow across the battlefield, enveloping countless soldiers below in darkness. The sound of his shifting weight alone caused tremors to ripple through the ground, shaking the resolve of even the bravest warriors. For a brief moment, it felt as if the world had paused, the atmosphere suffocating under the anticipation of what was to come.

BOOOOOOM! quake!

Screams echoed across the chaos.

"Aaaaahhhh!"

"NOOOO!"

The ground beneath him crumbled as though struck by a falling mountain. Amon's gigantic foot, towering at 300 meters in height, was nothing small. Upon impact, the earth beneath his target collapsed entirely. A large section of the battalion he aimed for was crushed under his feet, while the remaining soldiers were flung away by the shockwaves. A single step from Amon had wiped out a battalion of 10,000 soldiers.

At this size, Amon was literally looking down at the enemies as ants, but that didn't mean that these anta couldn't bite.

"FIRE!!" The generals roared at the top of their lungs.

Dozens of battalions redirected their entire focus onto one point— Amon's gigantic left leg.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Hundreds of thousands of attacks were unleashed simultaneously. Energy weapons, epic-grade equipment, and even purple mist collided against Amon's left leg in a focused, relentless barrage, all aimed at the same weak spot.

"SHIT!" Amon's assistant panicked at the sight and barked orders frantically. "What are you doing?! Stop them!!"

"Protect King Amon!"

The massive army of goblins sprang into action, abandoning their own fierce battles to focus on shielding their king. Those capable of ranged attacks raised their hands skyward, unleashing their own attacks to intercept the incoming strikes.

In a breathtaking clash, the demon army's counterattacks met the imperial forces' onslaught mid-air. A significant portion of the strikes was neutralized, but —Swoosh! Swoosh!— due to the overwhelming numerical difference, many of the attacks broke through and slammed into Amon's leg.

"....ooohhh!!!"

Amon released a muffled roar, his massive head lowering as he gazed at the damage inflicted upon his leg. It was clear that the relentless focus on this spot had taken its toll. Unable to withstand the pressure any longer, his left leg severed from his body.

BAAAAAANG!

Amon's enormous leg tore away, crashing onto three battalions of the Great Serpent Empire's army.

"Scatter!!"

The cries of the soldiers rang out as chaos erupted.

"Damn it! Give the king time to recover! Kill them all!!" Amon's assistants shouted in rage, transforming his arms into massive hammers as he leaped toward a general, engaging him in combat directly.

The demon army went berserk at the sight of their king's injury, surging forward in a frenzied attempt to protect him. Many abandoned their formations entirely, diving headfirst into the Great Serpent Empire's ranks, causing utter havoc.

Quake! Quake!

Amon stumbled slightly, struggling to balance his titanic frame on just one leg. Maintaining his equilibrium was a feat in and of itself, but somehow, he managed it. His gaze fell upon his severed leg, which had crushed hundreds of enemies beneath it. Slowly, he raised his hand toward it.

Fwooooom!

A massive surge of blood began gathering from all over the battlefield, forming a crimson link between Amon's thigh and his severed leg.

Krrrrrr!

The severed limb began to rise from the ground depending on the huge amount of blood raising it, clearly indicating that Amon intended to reattach it as if nothing had happened.

Swoosh! Swoosh!

"STOP HIM!!"

From behind, several voices screamed in unison, and Amon felt stinging sensations pierce his back. @@novelbin@@

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Explosions erupted across his immense frame, nearly toppling him forward. If he fell, his massive body would undoubtedly scatter the Great Serpent Empire's forces entirely, possibly killing thousands in the process. But one thing was certain: if a creature of that size fell, he wouldn't get back up.

With great effort, Amon managed to steady himself. Then—Swoosh!

Swoosh!—the rings of blood covering his body expanded outward, extending hundreds of meters. They lashed wildly at the air behind him like massive whips, indiscriminately attacking everything in their path. He couldn't see what was happening behind him, but whatever it was, it needed to die.

"Damn it!"

One of the Great Serpent Empire's combat emperors shouted as a massive blood whip streaked toward him. But it was too late.

BAAAAAM!

A single blow sent him hurtling toward the ground like a meteor, his bones shattering entirely on impact.

"...This is bad!!"

Amon's assistant, still locked in combat, shoved his opponent back and refocused his attention on the king. Currently, nearly 20 martial emperors were swarming around Amon, pestering him like mosquitoes with constant attacks. These individuals weren't some generals or new support troops—they were just martial emperors. That meant only one thing…

"We're losing the Emperors' Battle?!"

Panic filled Amon's assistant as he clutched his head and flew toward the rear of the battlefield. There, the true clash was unfolding: 700 martial emperors of the Great Serpent Empire against 300 demon emperors.

The demon emperors had been given a single order: dodge and stall for as long as possible. But the odds were far from fair.

"Oh no…"

With a single glance, the assistant's soul nearly left his body. Even with the aid of the Five War Lords, who had joined the battle to relieve pressure on the demon emperors, they were clearly on the losing side. At least 50 demon emperors had already been killed, and the rest were in dire condition. It was only a matter of time before they were wiped out entirely.

"Arrggh!!"

Blood poured from the guard's eyes and nose as he struggled desperately to escape. But any excessive movement could mean instant death.

Fortunately for him, Richard had no intention of killing him outright.

BAAM!

A sharp object slammed into the guard's back from behind, piercing his heart.

"Aaaaaahhh---!!!"

The guard let out a final, anguished scream, convinced that his end had come. His body weakened rapidly, and his vision began to fade. He hated the thought of his 1,700-year-old soul being extinguished in such a miserable place. But then—"Hmm?"—he noticed something.

"Go sit quietly over there until we finish with the rest of your brethren."

Richard tossed the imperial guard from a height of dozens of meters like a sack of garbage. With the Seal Nail embedded in his heart, the guard wasn't going anywhere.

"Sons of the Lord, the Martial Emperors Battle behind the main army is spiraling out of control," Sakaar said quietly. Despite his composed tone, his battered appearance made it clear that each word was a struggle to utter. "If the martial emperors of the Great Serpent Empire achieve victory before the Lord kills Pythor, everything else will crumble."

Caesar, wielding his halberd, slammed it against an imperial guard and drove a Seal Nail into him as well, though it missed the heart. Still, the nail frightened the guard enough to make him flee. Caesar then turned his gaze toward the distant battlefield for a moment.

"...I'll go help."