Lord of the Truth

Chapter 988  Reaction

Planet Nihari — City of Hope

Krkrkr! Krkrkr!

Bang!

While a large fleet of warships hovered over the buildings of the City of Hope, reducing them to rubble, six figures exuding powerful auras made their way toward the city's tallest tower. Upon reaching the top floor, they immediately bowed when they saw a familiar face, "We greet His Highness, the Seventh Prince!"

"Generals," the Seventh Prince acknowledged with a nod, his tone indifferent.

Bang! Bang!

"…Your Highness, are there any specific orders from His Majesty, or is there a Marshal under whose command we should operate?" Despite the crashing noises coming from a nearby room, one of the six generals stepped forward and asked directly, without any preamble.

Being high-ranking generals meant nothing in this war, with the presence of the Imperial Guards, 4 Marshals, and His Majesty, Pythor himself! Here, even breathing required permission.

"His Majesty is not in the mood to issue any commands right now." Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The Seventh Prince scratched his head and glanced toward the source of the crashing noises. "Perhaps you should head to the northern region and assist with the siege against the remaining Nihari giants until His Majesty clear his—"

Bang!

Another loud crash came from the room, this time followed by a furious shout: "Son of a bitch! That son of a BITCH!!"

"…Is that His Majesty Pythor's voice?" one of the generals asked hesitantly, fear creeping into his tone. "What could possibly drive His Majesty to this state?"

"Heh~ Who else could it be?" The Seventh Prince let out a deep sigh.

"It's the planetary emperor, Robin Burton. That man has started refining the spirit of Poison Rock Planet."

"When the news of the invasion reached us a few days ago, I advised him not to attempt anything using the spirit of Poison Rock Planet. I warned him that he wouldn't be able to handle the consequences and that if he tried, Robin Burton would immediately begin refining it for himself," a calm voice emerged from one corner of the room. "But he didn't listen to me. Instead, he triggered the planet's spirit into action. What did he expect to happen? Why won't any of you ever listen to me? Tsk~"

"Wh— WHAT?!" The six generals' eyes and mouths flew wide open in shock. Refining the spirit of Poison Rock Planet? When did he even go there? How did he overcome the Imperial Guards? How did he find the spirit?! A hundred questions flooded their minds in an instant!

"When the news of the invasion reached us a few days ago, I advised him not to attempt anything using the spirit of Poison Rock Planet. I warned him that he wouldn't be able to handle the consequences and that if he tried, Robin Burton would immediately begin refining it for himself," a calm voice emerged from one corner of the room. "But he didn't listen to me. Instead, he triggered the planet's spirit into action. What did he expect to happen? Why won't any of you ever listen to me? Tsk~"

"Mister Chosen, you should speak more respectfully about His Majesty, or keep your mouth shut," the Seventh Prince said, his brows furrowing. "How was he supposed to know Robin Burton could locate the planet's spirit so easily, especially when only His Majesty himself knew its whereabouts?"

"Stop underestimating Robin Burton. If you don't know him, at least listen to those who do." Jabba turned to face the Seventh Prince. "Of course, Robin Burton could find it easily! He didn't refine it the moment he arrived because he knew doing so would set off a chain of logical events that would lead to the loss of millions of soldiers' and civilians' lives for no reason. But His Majesty Baithor didn't grasp this—or perhaps he refused to believe his opponent's capabilities—and he's now trapped everyone in a web of errors and bloodshed. Instead of trying to counter me to appease yourself, you should've advised him differently. Just wait, once he calms his rage, you'll see the kind of decisions he makes."

Crack!

"You speak as if you're not the one to blame for all of this... If you hadn't mentioned it, he wouldn't have even thought of it! Your provocative style is what pushed him to act!" The Seventh Prince's fingers emitted the sound of cracking joints, his frustration evident. If not for the wrath of the Supreme Lord that would undoubtedly follow, the prince would have killed this arrogant Truth Chosen without hesitation. "And don't belittle His Majesty. A minor incident like this won't change anything!"

"I only offered advice; I'm no sorcerer capable of influencing His Majesty's decisions. I'm just a mere human who hasn't even reached a century of age yet~" Jabba chuckled before fixing his gaze straight ahead. "As for his reaction, we won't have to wait long."

Bang!

Another wall shattered with a deafening crash, and from behind it emerged Pythor, his face aflame with fury.

"Does he think he holds the upper hand now? Does he think he owns me?! No, I won't let that piece of trash bask in his triumph!"

Bam! Bam!

The six generals instantly dropped to their knees.

"Your Majesty, please calm your anger!" The Seventh Prince quickly stepped forward toward his father. "The negotiations are just four days away. Even if he continues the refinement, what can he accomplish in four days? It took you centuries to refine the planet's spirit. Whatever Robin Burton is doing is futile, he's simply trying to provoke you."

"That scoundrel used some trick to push his refinement to 7%. If his goal was to provoke me, then he has fuckin' succeeded!" Pythor bellowed, his voice brimming with intense agitation, with a trace of regret evident in his tone.

"He's already reached 7%? Impossible!" The Seventh Prince stepped forward in disbelief. As a seasoned warrior in the middle planetary belt, he understood exactly what that rate of progress signified—the planet's spirit had somehow accepted Robin as a contender!

"If he maintains this pace, he might surpass 10% before the negotiations. I cannot let him sit across from me, smugly declaring he'll claim the planet's spirit within a few short years. No, worse—he might not even come to the negotiations at all if he feels he no longer needs to talk!"

Pythor's teeth ground together, the sound echoing through the chamber. "I need to regain some leverage..."

From the side, Jabba subtly gestured toward the Seventh Prince, then pointed toward Pythor as if to say, Pay close attention to what's about to happen.

Step... Step...

Baithor took deep breaths, attempting to compose himself as he walked toward the balcony. "The southern region... I must secure control of the southern region within four days!"

He turned to the six generals and gave his orders. "Prepare yourselves. The Seventh Prince will personally lead you, along with several of my elder sons, to crush everything in the South. You have my approval to do whatever it takes to destroy that portal—even if it means using one of the Cataclysm Sealing Cubes!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The six generals saluted with fervor before marching out of the chamber, their spirits high. After all, extermination missions were their specialty.

"...!!" As for the Seventh Prince, his pupils dilated until they nearly touched his eyelids.

The southern region was home to billions of native fighters. Additionally, it had seen a continuous influx of demons, swelling their numbers to nearly 300,000 law-using demons, hundreds of demon emperors, and an unknown number of warlords. Heading there without a proper strategy would be catastrophic. Even if they emerged victorious, the army would be left in ruins!

Slowly, he turned toward Jabba, his eyes full of hatred and rejection, but in turn, Jabba simply shrugged and muttered, "I warned you." Then, he closed his eyes once again.