Lord of the Truth

1090  Not the same

"....HMMMMMM!!!" Amon let out a deep, rumbling growl before opening his palm and swinging his arm with tremendous force.

Wherever his hand moved, currents of violent wind surged forth, sending enemy soldiers tumbling through the air like fragile leaves caught in the fury of a raging storm. The howling gusts tore through the battlefield, twisting and tossing armored warriors effortlessly. Then, in a final crescendo, "BOOOOM"— the accumulated torrents of air smashed into the advancing army, crushing hundreds, perhaps even thousands, under their relentless force.

"Take down the monster first!!" one of the enemy generals roared with commanding authority.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Hundreds of martial emperors focused their attacks upon Amon, their relentless assault lasting no more than five seconds—but in warfare, five seconds was more than enough.

Clatter...

Amon's massive frame trembled before he finally collapsed onto one knee, his enormous hands pressing against the ground to keep himself from completely falling and crushing Richard and the demon forces beneath him.

"Don't stop! Sever his head!!" The enemy general showed no hesitation, recognizing Amon as one of the greatest threats on the battlefield.

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("Hey, hey, hey! Do something, Uncle! You won't have an army left at this rate!") Evergreen's voice echoed with urgency, her words laced with undeniable panic.

"...No need to worry," Robin responded in a low, measured tone, though the tension in his voice betrayed his anger and pressure. His face had turned slightly red from the overwhelming strain of the battle. "Once Pythor is dead, I will exploit the shock of his followers and order the immediate opening of instant space portals. Many of our forces will manage to escape."

(And many won't make it in time before the wrath of the Serpent Empire's army tears them apart!") Evergreen shot back, clearly unconvinced. ("And secondly, what do you plan to do with the enemy army if you just leave them behind? Do you think they'll simply surrender the moment their ruler is gone?)

Robin knew this truth all too well. If he died now, the demon army wouldn't just retreat— they would disintegrate into utter chaos. Worse, if the Jura forces witnessed his downfall, they might fight with even greater desperation, driven by either vengeance or pure rage.

"Don't worry. Everything has been calculated," he assured her. "Without the marshals and Pythor, no one will be left to rally them. If given a day or two to gather themselves, they will most likely scatter and retreat toward the middle planetary belt."

(Sigh~ Then let's just hope your plan works… and that your surviving soldiers drown themselves in the sweet intoxication of victory, forgetting the sheer scale of today's losses. Otherwise, without an army at your back, you won't be going anywhere.)

Even as a planetary spirit who manipulated the Tree Fathers and humans to massacre themselves for hundreds of thousands of years, this was the first time she witnessed a battle of this size!

Evergreen's voice indeed carried an underlying concern— not because she doubted Robin's intellect, but because of the sheer horror she was witnessing through his eyes.

Robin's fate was either absolute greatness or inevitable destruction, and from her perspective, the downfall of a man with golden eyes would not take place here, in the depths of this young planetary belt!

"You're thinking in the wrong direction," Robin shook his head, his expression unwavering. "Soldiers are merely pieces on the board, moved according to my will. It does not matter whether the piece is a human or a demon, a general or a mere food supplier. They all serve one purpose—victory. And once that victory is secured, everything else will be forgotten after the spoils of war are distributed."

"Hsssss!!"

Pythor suddenly let out a booming laugh before whipping his massive tail toward Holak with terrifying force.

Upon witnessing the all-too-familiar sight, Holak swiftly leaped backward, his body reacting on instinct. He unleashed a flurry of rapid strikes, his voice erupting in frustration, "Damn it!!"

Zwooosh—

Yet, the purple mist still reached him.

"AAHHHH!!!" Holak's scream tore through the battlefield as his body was riddled with even more holes. His condition had deteriorated so much that the mere act of standing was nothing short of a miracle.

"Hsss!!" @@novelbin@@

Pythor lunged forward, his piercing eyes locked onto Holak with a deadly determination. This time, he intended to finish him off completely.

(Aren't you going to save Holak? I know he's not an official follower of you yet, but he is still useful, he's going to die at this rate,) Evergreen's voice rang in Robin's mind, a sharp reminder of the brutal reality unfolding before them.

Robin cast a single, indifferent glance at Holak before turning his gaze away. "...No. I will not move from here, no matter what happens. Until I am absolutely certain I can execute that technique... let them die."

His expression remained cold as he continued observing the battlefield. Anger simmered within him at the unexpected massacre before his eyes, yet his gaze remained as emotionless as ice—because, in the end, it did not matter.

What difference did it make if the entire army perished? Once Pythor was dead, he could create a force ten times stronger than this one. All he had to do was distribute the spoils of war to the fallen soldiers' families, and in the eyes of the people, he would be seen as a hero.

This wasn't a sports team fighting for union rights—this was a planetary war, a battle of empires. Death was an inevitability that loomed on all sides, an unrelenting force that spared no one. Every soldier who joined the army did so willingly, knowing full well that the specter of death could claim them at any moment.

What did it matter if they died for the empire?

Take the Warlord who sacrificed himself for Richard, for instance. He had known that if the True Beginning Empire emerged victorious, his family—and the families of every saint and sage in the array—would enjoy a life of prosperity and privilege. That was why he did it.

So what was wrong with them dying for Robin's ambition? If he could defeat Pythor with half his army, then that victory would open new horizons for the empire—elevating their families and descendants to unimaginable heights.

In the face of planetary conquest, all lives were expendable. Those who chose to walk this path had to turn their hearts to stone, or they would never take another step forward. On this road, Planetary Emperors walk alone— and everything else was nothing but fleeting dust.

"Khh... Cough, cough!!"

"Hmm?" Robin's eyes snapped toward a particular direction.

There, in the midst of the raging battle, he saw Caesar coughing up blood, surrounded by five high-level Martial Emperors. The once-burning black flames that cloaked his body had completely extinguished. He could no longer conjure a single spark.

"MY BOY!!" Robin's golden eyes widened in a rare moment of raw emotion.

With a forceful motion, he rose to his feet— BAAAM!! The rubble around him exploded in every direction, sending debris scattering like shrapnel.

In an instant, countless eyes turned toward him.

Even Pythor, who had been relentlessly pursuing Holak, halted in his tracks and looked toward Robin as if finally laying eyes on his true prey.

Swoooosh—

A moment later, the Buried Space Spear, hidden beneath the wreckage, suddenly shot through the air, breaking free from the ruins. In the blink of an eye, it landed firmly in Robin's outstretched hand.

CRACK!

Robin clenched the spear tightly, his expression darkening as an intense fury overtook him. His voice thundered across the battlefield, "You are courting death!!"

Raising his arm, he prepared to tear through space itself and teleport beside Caesar.

But just as he was about to act, a deafening voice erupted through the battlefield—

"Richard, Son of Lord, we beg for your protection!!"

It was Sakaar, his desperate plea cutting through the chaos like a sword.