Infinity, The Arcade Age-Chapter 422: Internal Strife

As Qin Ming's voice fell, the room plunged into silence.

He locked eyes with Toreid, who was lying on the hospital bed, for several long seconds. Then, without warning, he rolled up his sleeves and strode toward him.

Grabbing the medicine in one hand and pinning Toreid down with the other, Qin Ming wore a stern face as he prepared to force the medicine down his throat. At the same time, he barked loudly:

"Toretia! Come hold your father down!"

It was obvious that Qin Ming was neither a gentle man nor someone who listened to reason.

Refusing medicine? Wanting to use his own death as a spark?

Like hell! Qin Ming wasn't buying any of that!

Faced with Qin Ming's brute force, Toreid struggled with all his might—but his strength clearly couldn't match Qin Ming's.

Though he couldn't break free from Qin Ming's grasp, he violently shook his head from side to side, making it just as difficult for Qin Ming to feed him the medicine.

But most importantly...

Qin Ming suddenly paused mid-motion. He frowned as he stared at the still-struggling Toreid, then turned his head sharply.

There stood Toretia, clad in armor and leaning on a knight's sword. She remained motionless, head bowed.

Her hair hung down, covering her face, and she stood silently, like a statue.

Seeing that Toretia hadn't obeyed his order, Qin Ming's gaze flickered. Slowly, he looked around the room.

The officers of the Pitchfork Empire inside either held their pitchforks with heads bowed or stood frozen with limp arms.

No one came forward. No one spoke. The silence was suffocating.

Looking at the others lost in muteness, then back at Toreid—whose face was growing increasingly pale from the pain and exertion—Qin Ming's breathing grew heavy, and he slowly straightened up.

His grip on the medicine was so tight that his knuckles turned white.

Qin Ming swept his gaze across the room, then suddenly gave a slight nod.

"A palace coup? Joining forces to go against me? Huh?"

Hearing this, Toretia quickly raised her head.

"Your Majesty, we—"

"He's your father! And you're just going to stand there and watch him die?"

"...As long as the war continues, death will never cease."

"I don't care about that! I don't care if others die! Their lives have nothing to do with me! Don't throw that nonsense at me! I owe them nothing!"

With a low growl, the veins on Qin Ming's forehead bulged. He was truly furious now.

The veteran soldiers who had risen alongside him were now banding together against him in public—this was harder for him to stomach than any invincible enemy.

What Qin Ming hated most... was betrayal by his own people.

Just as Qin Ming's rage was about to boil over, Toreid, still lying on the bed, suddenly spoke softly.

"Your Majesty... will you save this world?"

The moment he heard that, Qin Ming snapped his head around with a ferocious glare—only to meet Toreid's weary, hollow eyes.

"You won't. Because from the beginning, you never intended to save everyone."

"I already said—I don't owe them anything!"

"But we do. We want to save them."

Staring at Qin Ming, Toreid's gaze grew more complicated.

As Qin Ming's long-time adjutant, Toreid saw things more clearly than anyone. This so-called Holy King of theirs had never once intended to save the world.

All he ever did was lead his troops to conquer city after city. After defeating the enemy in each place, he would immediately move on, not even sparing a glance at the local civilians.

If it hadn't been for Toreid consistently dispatching people to maintain public order, distribute food and gear, and even come up with the idea of forming militia units, the empire could never have reached its current size.

Qin Ming didn't behave like someone trying to claim territory—he was just aimlessly killing, wiping out enemy legions for the sake of it.

For cities that had no enemy legions stationed, Qin Ming wouldn't even bother attacking, even if taking them was as easy as lifting a finger.

That realization had filled Toreid and the others with growing dread.

They feared that Qin Ming would one day vanish—just like those heroes in myth and legend who disappear without a trace after defeating a mighty foe.

What terrified them most was that Qin Ming had said himself that he would leave one day.

If he truly vanished, everything the empire had built would collapse overnight.

And all the forces that had yet to be crushed would seize the opportunity to rise, consume everything, and become the next evil duke.

That was why they had to act fast—eliminate every remaining threat before Qin Ming disappeared. King Arthur was one of them.

If they waited too long, they might never get another chance.

Turning his head, Toreid looked weakly at Qin Ming.

"Your Majesty... you'll protect your people forever, won't you?"

Qin Ming just stared at him, unmoving.

"Your Majesty... you will protect your people forever, right?"

Qin Ming still didn't answer, but his eyes had grown ice-cold.

"Your Ma—"

"I hate being threatened!"

Before Toreid could finish, Qin Ming abruptly turned and stormed out.

He shoved aside two Pitchfork Knights standing in his path and marched straight toward the exit.

But just as he reached the door, his steps halted.

Gripping the doorframe with one hand, he lowered his head in silence for a moment—then turned slightly and said:

"Toretia, mobilize the legions. Prepare for war."

Bang!

With those words, the door slammed shut behind him with a deafening thud.

Only the first group of Pitchfork Knights remained in the room, holding their pitchforks, silently staring at the bedridden Toreid with lowered heads...

Woooo!

The dull blare of a war horn echoed through the air. The imperial legions marched out in full force.

And this time, the scale of the mobilization was unprecedented.

The empire gathered every available unit, sending them from all directions toward King Arthur's domain.

Almost every legion carried a white flag at the front of their ranks.

General Toreid—the deeply respected imperial adjutant—had fallen in battle.

He was buried in public, without an ornate tomb, without lavish grave goods.

Only a plain coffin... and a single pitchfork.

Toreid's death stirred a tidal wave of emotion. Many towns and villages that had once wavered between the Pitchfork Empire and King Arthur's faction immediately threw their support behind the empire.

Qin Ming's latest orders caused nearly every village militia to leap into action, joining the campaign at once.

With a nearly perfect justification for launching an expedition, the villages that had once received Toreid's kindness all rallied to the call. No one questioned the campaign—only fury burned in their hearts.

Just days ago, the two sides had been allies. Now, they had torn off the facade and become enemies.

The battle between the Pitchfork Empire and King Arthur's army had officially begun.

(End of Chapter)