Lord of the Truth-Chapter 1190: No backing down!

If the report turned out to be true… and the Academies confirmed the existence of the Red Plague on Planet Jura, it would spell disaster—not just for the planet, but for the entire foundation of the True Beginning Empire.

"We will not allow you to use us to threaten the Lord."

The voice was gravelly and filled with rage—it belonged to Sakaar. Heads turned toward him as his presence dominated the field.

"From this day forth, the demons shall withdraw from Planet Jura. We will leave and never return. But before that…"

"You're alive?" The glowing shard's expression twisted into confusion and disbelief. Sakar looked like a man reborn—standing tall, full of vitality and power. Even the injuries that had once covered his body were now completely gone.

But it was clear why. The heavy, metallic scent of fresh blood coursing through his veins was unmistakable. "The Red Plague… Such repulsive, loathsome creatures."

Raising his right arm slowly, deliberately, he directed it toward the soul shard. As it lifted, the arm transformed—shifting into a massive cleaver, glowing faintly with a deadly aura.

"…Before leaving I shall destroy that shard!"

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Zzzzn. Zzzzn.

An overwhelming number of Daisies began to circle around him, petals whirling in an eerie spiral. Their numbers were vast—uncountable—until they suddenly compressed, merging into a hundred, then a mere ten… and finally just five.

Each of those five flowers pulsed with unimaginable energy. Each one radiated an aura so terrifying it tore at the fabric of Jura's fragile space. Reality itself seemed to shudder around them.

"Hehe... Can you do it?" The soul shard chuckled, mocking.

Without the intervention of the planet spirit, she had no reason to fear anyone.

Craack! Craaack!

"Hmm?"

A sudden voice echoed through the thick tension in the air, immediately drawing the spirit shard's attention. Her gaze shifted, and there she saw something impossible—Amon, or more accurately, the scattered pieces of Amon, gathering themselves together with eerie precision and unnatural speed. Thin, pulsating threads of blood stretched out like spider silk from joint to joint, limb to limb. These threads moved with purpose, pulling the severed parts into alignment.

At each point of contact, a thicker, darker strand of blood emerged—sizzling, searing, and fusing the pieces like living welds. Within seconds, Amon's monstrous form was once again whole.

"You said this planet is yours? Even the air we breathe belongs to the Lord! RAAAAA—!!"

Amon's voice thundered as he bared his serrated fangs, his eyes burning with primal fury. It was as if the previous devastating attack had been nothing but a breeze brushing against his skin.

Although his size had diminished slightly—now standing at around four meters tall—his body was fully reconstructed, not even a single scratch visible on his crimson-hardened skin. The scattered fragments of his scarlet armor had instinctively shifted during the battle, covering his vital organs and shielding his core during the explosion. That precise defense made the regeneration process not only possible but astonishingly fast.

Behind him, the three demon generals who had been flung like ragdolls earlier now dragged their battered bodies back into formation. Bloodied, bruised, and visibly weakened, they still stood tall—standing behind Amon like loyal shadows.

Their faces were twisted with emotion.

Not rage alone.

But a terrible mix of helplessness, seething hatred, and humiliation. They had been defeated, utterly overpowered—and yet, they stood again.

"..."

The soul shard paused. Her mind, which had been sharp and unflinching until this point, now hesitated.

She had attacked them with lethal intent.

By every known rule, any creature infected by the Red Plague should have responded with blind aggression, leaping to devour her like mindless beasts. That's how the Plague worked—consume or be consumed.

But that's not what happened here.

Instead, they regrouped.

They took defensive stances.

They assessed the battlefield.

They didn't even speak of themselves or scream in pain.

One had declared that they would leave the planet out of loyalty to their Lord.

Another had proclaimed that everything here belonged to that Lord.

Loyalty? From the Red Plague?

That should be impossible.

What kind of plague felt loyalty to anyone or anything?

Who was this "Lord" they served so fanatically?

Could it be a mutated, some ancient being born to lead them?

Shuwaaalaaa!

Suddenly, a radiant sound of energy cutting through the atmosphere came from the shard's right. Along with it came a chillingly familiar sensation.

"...A soul sealing technique?! I burned it."

Caesar responded nonchalantly, casually twirling his glaive in one hand as green sparks crackled off its edge.

KAHHHHHH!!!

From below, a voice roared loud enough to shake the clouds.

Emerging from the crater, Richard stood ablaze—his head engulfed in wild, green flames. His bloodshot eyes glared up, trembling with fury.

"This isn't the first time I've faced soul pressure! Give me more!! Bring it all!!"

Grrrrrrrr---

To the left, Crixus spread his massive wings, rising onto his hind legs like a dragon preparing for war. Azure fire built up in his throat, glowing and ready to be unleashed like a devastating wave.

"I didn't join the True Genesis Empire yesterday just to watch it fall today." Aro spoke coldly. "Apologies... but I'm afraid the only option we have left is to destroy you."

Crackling arcs of violet lightning surged between his horns, then began to condense into a swirling sphere above his head.

"I still have dreams to fulfill here..." Haros whispered as he raised his hands, slowly, deliberately.

Between his palms, a thick fog of violet mist began to condense into a dense, churning force of arcane energy.

Then, as if summoned by some silent call, the rest of the generals began to arrive.

Raiden, Alexander, Flora—one by one, they emerged, forming a wall around the soul shard. The entire elite force of the empire stood united. Even the massive warship began to move, rotating its central cannon until it pointed directly at the shard's glowing form.

"You're all… defending the Red Plague from me?!"

The soul shard finally spoke, her voice trembling between outrage and disbelief.

"Do you even comprehend what these creatures are?!"

And now—she felt it.

Real danger.

For all her arrogance, she was not without limits.

When she arrived on the planet Gudah, she only left a shard of 40,000 soul units. But now? Only 20,000 remained. And just those few soul techniques earlier had already cost her nearly half her remaining force. She was not an eternal warrior. She could not keep fighting forever.

"Enough. All of you. Lower your weapons."

A calm, commanding voice broke through the building chaos.

"And you, lady," he continued, addressing the shard directly.

"You will tolerate the presence of these demons until The man arrives, that's all what we are asking for."

"I refuse to remain in the same place as the Red Plague!"

The shard snapped, waving her glowing hand violently.

"Remove them from this planet— then I'll consider waiting."

By now, she couldn't lie to herself. She wanted to back down.

There was something seriously wrong with this planet. Too many beings were unnaturally powerful for their cultivation levels. And worse, they were united. Far too united. They surrounded her, prepared, coordinated—and none of them tried to bribe, beg, or flatter her.

But if she reversed her decision now, what would her supposed "new subjects" think of her?

"The savage Holak… has a soft side?" Sakaar sneered, then raised his cleaver and pointed it directly at the shard. "I don't trust this shard. We should destroy it before the Lord arrives—before it tries to harm him."

"...Stupid Red Plague..."

Holak muttered under his breath, then slumped down, sitting like a beast done with the hunt. He no longer cared for the situation.

The air turned heavy. Everyone seemed to agree with Sakaar's words.

This soul shard had already defeated the four strongest members of the empire during their first encounter. If she were to remain, unchecked, and His Excellency appeared in her presence—who could guarantee his safety?

"..." The shard slowly scanned her surroundings. Outwardly calm. Inwardly—uneasy.

If they destroyed this vessel of hers, what then?

Report the incident to the authorities? She would lose this valuable, mysterious planet.

Send in her armies? She had no troops strong enough to claim this place.

A full-scale war would mean catastrophic losses.

But just before the situation could explode any further—

"Oh? What's going on here? Do we have a visitor?"

A new voice entered the fray.