Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1376: Sakaar’s power

Planet R-193

Sakaar slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping a random patch of the violet grasslands that blanketed the terrain like a flowing sea. From within those gentle waves, a thick obsidian shadow began to churn, gathering itself like spilled ink being pulled together by a hidden force. It twisted, warped, and condensed—until it solidified into the form of a cloaked figure. The humanoid was entirely wrapped in black, save for the two glowing eyes peeking out from under his mask.

The figure materialized in a kneeling posture, one knee bent, one fist to the ground, and his voice came out low but unwavering:

”I offer my greetings to the Supreme General of the Second Army.”

”Hmm? Are we still using Shadow Swords for message delivery?” Sakaar asked, his voice calm but laced with subtle irony.

Decades ago, His Majesty had personally laid the foundation for the Interplanetary Communication Grid—a sprawling system that enabled real-time audiovisual transmission between worlds. Designed by the minds of Sky Opening City, miniature portals had since been embedded on every major planet across the empire. The old ways of communication—via Shadow Swords—had all but faded into ritualistic tradition.

”I have arrived with a package from Command, sir,” the Shadow Sword responded, lifting a glowing spatial ring with both hands.

”It’s one of the weapons personally purchased by His Majesty. Lady Emily suspects it was meant for the Second Army.”

Without speaking, Sakaar reached out, his clawed fingers delicately plucking the ring from the emissary’s hands. He examined it in silence for a moment, as if trying to see through the metal and into the purpose behind it.

”You are dismissed.”

”Yes, Supreme General.”

Without another word, the figure melted back into the earth’s shadow, as if swallowed by the planet itself.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Heavy footsteps echoed, rhythmic and deliberate—yet perfectly balanced. A colossal presence approached.

”Who was that, Chief? I smell the stench of a human.”

”A Shadow Sword. He brought a gift from the Lord.”

A rare smirk touched Sakaar’s fanged lips, a subtle expression most would find unreadable. He raised his head with regal slowness.

”Helga. Have you completed the final preparations?”

From behind the trees, the towering form of a demon warlordess stepped into view—Helga, one of the very few female demon-commanders in the army. Massive by the standards of her kind, her dark crimson armor was studded with bone and obsidian, and her wild white hair flowed behind her like the mane of a beast.

Her arms crossed, she answered in a low, growling tone.

”All troops are in position. Our formations are tight. Supplies and artillery in place. It will be a massive war... but one we will win.”

She paused, then tilted her head curiously.

”Still, do we really have to rush it? The tiger-folk on this planet... their flesh is rich, their blood enhances our own. The longer the battle lasts, the more we benefit. Why not drag this campaign a bit longer?”

Sakaar turned his back to her and began walking.

”We no longer have the luxury of time. The pace of our conquest must rise... or we will fall behind.”

”Fall behind who?” Helga scoffed, her large nostrils flaring.

”The First Army? They’ve already moved to Middle Sector 100, And their Stellar Scout Ships split between us and the Third.”

She clenched a spiked gauntlet.

”And the Third Army? Ever since His Majesty imposed his new limits on both our forces, we’ve been progressing neck-and-neck. We birth more soldiers than anyone, our reproduction is unmatched, Why should we rush?”

Sakaar stopped walking and placed a clawed hand on the throne of blackstone behind him. Then, in a quiet, solemn tone:

”...Because the danger isn’t falling behind the Third. It’s in failing to satisfy the Lord.”

”...I don’t understand.” Helga shook her head

Sakar finally turned to her, the light of the twin suns burning on his scaled face, ”The First Army’s move to Middle Sector 100 is only the first piece of a larger puzzle. My instincts tell me the Third Army will soon shift into Middle Sector 99. General Aro will not allow the First to advance alone.”

His smile burned brighter.

”And that will leave us—here in the Young Belt—the vanguard of the conquest era. We will carry the banner of expansion on our backs. Alone.”

Helga’s fists tightened at her sides.

”And why should we bear that burden? Why not them?! Our bloodline is pure, born from the wombs of war. We are the fangs of the empire, the claw in the Master’s hand!”

Her voice grew into a roar. ”We are worthy of such glory! We are owed it!”

”...Not now.”

Sakaar raised his head slowly,

”Perhaps after the next wave of adjustments to our armor is complete, we’ll finally be permitted to enter the larger theater. But unfortunately, even with enhancements, we still cannot reveal ourselves freely or engage with the liberty the First and Third Armies enjoy. It seems we were born to be shadows, Helga—to remain hidden, the unseen blade in His Majesty’s hand. We are his silent ace, kept close, never drawn until the endgame.”

Helga lowered her head, her thick, armored arms folding across her chest.

”It’s not fair...” she said, her voice heavy, resonant with frustration. Her claws dug faint grooves into the stone underfoot.

”We were born in blood, raised in war, molded by pain. Why must we, the children of the Red Plague, be the ones denied glory?”

Sakaar’s voice remained level, ”If fate branded us the moment we crawled out to existence to be a cursed plague... then we must be wise. It is not glory we need—it is survival. Survival and discretion. If we die recklessly, we lose everything. And worse, we burden the Lord.”

He turned toward her gently,

”By the way... how is Amon faring?”

Helga exhaled with something between a grunt and a scoff.

”Still buried in his den, drinking blood like water and reading his majesty’s research about blood over and over again. His aura grows heavier. He may awaken and reach your level very soon.”

Sakaar only chuckled under his breath.

”His path is his own. Yours is coming too.”

With a flick of his hand, he pulled out a spatial ring. A faint, silvery gleam pulsed as a weapon emerged from within—uncoiling like a serpent.

”This is for you. A personal selection from the Lord himself. He said it was ideal for your affinity.”

Helga’s annoyance vanished.

”For me...? From Him?”

Her voice trembled for a heartbeat before she snatched the weapon, handling it with reverence and hunger. It was a whip—five meters long, forged from blackened star-steel segments. Each plate had a glowing red core, pulsing like a living ember. It radiated heat and menace.

She grasped the hilt.

SHWAAAAA!

A wave of sizzling, crimson energy erupted. Not fire—but boiling blood, superheated and writhing with malicious will. The air reeked of iron and sulfur.

CRAAAACK!

With one vicious swing, she cleaved a trench into the cave floor—splitting it down the middle. Steam hissed.

”Hahaha! This is what I’m talking about! Finally—power!”

Sakaar simply nodded, stepping back.

”Go test it. The subjugation of this planet must be completed today. We can’t delay any longer.”

Helga, now trembling with excitement, leapt into the air like a missile.

”On it!”

He watched her vanish, then slowly turned to observe the destruction she left behind. The floor was split, his stone throne reduced to rubble.

”...Looks like I’ll need a new resting chamber.”

He sighed, then turned and began walking out, his heavy steps slow but graceful.

Outside, the atmosphere had changed.

CRACK. CRACK.

The sky above him twisted unnaturally. Purple clouds churned violently as lightning danced across them in jagged arcs.

But instead of rain, water condensed into a colossal, ghostly tiger, its form suspended in the air, shaped from liquid and rage. It stared down with glowing white eyes, oozing hatred.

Sakaar tilted his head and grinned.

”I haven’t even destroyed a village yet. You’re already growling every time I take a breath?”

He raised his arms to the sky, mocking.

”Come on, then, I dare you. Do something. Break your sacred planetary rules and attack me first. Lash out at me. Just once. And I promise... we’ll show you the real face of the Red Plague.”

The clouds twisted violently. Thunder echoed like the roar of mountains collapsing. But the tiger didn’t move.

Sakar exhaled lazily and began walking again, his voice echoing across the mountain valley.

”That’s what I thought.”

His tone lowered, almost solemn now.

”Relax. After today’s battle, we’ll hand your world over to the humans and leave. And when you see what awaits you, you will thank us.”