Chapter 682: The Reason for Betrayal
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 682: The Reason for Betrayal
The fierce battle beneath the city walls raged on.
While the intensity was far from the carnage of the boundless Flesh Plain outside, close-quarters melee was always more engaging to watch than two sides trading long-range blasts. Furthermore, it wasn't subject to the "smoke means no damage" trope, making it much easier to tell which side held the upper hand.
After watching for a short while, Lorne suddenly turned, preparing to depart.
"It seems I’m no longer needed here. I’ll be taking my leave. See to it that the breach is repaired immediately to prevent any accidents."
"Understood," Verner nodded.
In fact, taking advantage of the duel between the two powerhouses, logistics soldiers had already rushed forward to begin the rapid repair of the gap.
Fortunately, the repairs proceeded without interference. Just as Muen had speculated, because the internal agent in the fortress was on the verge of being exposed, both the mole and the supporting Demon forces outside had acted with far too much haste.
The war had only just begun. No matter how formidable the Demon army of a million was, they had not yet fully pushed their way to the foot of the walls.
Consequently, after that initial wave of enemies was repelled, the Demons—despite their numerical advantage—failed to send in follow-up reinforcements.
Had the Demons been slightly better prepared, or had Muen been a step slower in his game of cat-and-mouse, that breach might have become a wound that truly tore the city's defenses apart.
"In any case... I should go have a talk with that old brother of mine."
Lorne sighed, his gaze sweeping across the massive fortress.
Even though he was a Duke, even though he was the Lion King, there were still people and matters within this fortress that remained beyond his grasp.
*
"Let me go! What do you think you're doing?"
Upon the artificial inner wall, which offered an excellent vantage point, Old Robert continued to struggle.
"You brats! You dare attack me? Who do you think you are, attacking a superior officer? Do you have any idea what the penalty is for attacking an officer in the Empire? You bastards will be sent to the Hilly Territory to plant potatoes!"
"Still making excuses?"
Vik, who detested those who betrayed the Empire more than anyone, spat on the ground and ground his boot into Old Robert’s face. "You already admitted you're a traitor just a moment ago!"
"Admitted what? I... I only wanted to help Young Master Muen! How can you slander an innocent man like this?"
"Enough. Save your words for your trial. If we truly have made a mistake, I will have Vik apologize to you afterward," Abel said steadily.
"Huh? Why me?"
"That’s not the point."
Abel pulled out a tattered cloth. Judging by the bloodstains and grime, this cloth had wiped the blood of countless comrades, yet now it was being used for the first time to gag a traitor.
"You... you bastard..."
Panic flashed in Old Robert’s eyes. As he clenched his teeth, a tiny mechanism shifted inside his tightly pinned metal prosthetic hand, and a sharp dagger slid out.
Since he had committed such an act, he couldn't leave himself without a way out. These were just ordinary brats; perhaps Abel posed a slight threat, but dealing with them wouldn't be difficult.
Everyone’s attention was likely focused on Muen Campbell right now. If he could finish these youths off within a minute, he would have enough time to find a way to slip into the chaos of the battlefield and escape.
The battlefield was dangerous, but it was better than being caught. He knew better than anyone how the lunatics at the Imperial Tribunal treated traitors!
Old Robert’s mind raced, the combat reflexes honed over a long military career kicking back into gear. He only needed to wait for a single moment when they let their guard down, and he would—
"Let him go for now."
A familiar voice rang out.
The voice was warm and steady, like the autumn sun shining upon the earth—not scorching, but sufficiently bright.
For the man speaking was the true sun of the entire Abyss Defense Line.
"Du... Duke Lorne?"
Old Robert felt none of the warmth that illuminated the fortress; instead, he felt as if he had been plunged into an ice cellar.
"You... why are you here?"
"This fortress hasn't seen an internal agent in ten years. Because from the Empire's perspective, defecting to the Abyss is an utterly foolish choice no matter how you look at it. So, I came to see for myself."
Lorne waved his hand, signaling Abel and the others—who were so agitated they could barely speak as they rushed to salute—that there was no need for formalities. He casually found a stone in front of Old Robert and sat down.
"Robert, I remember you arrived at this fortress even earlier than I did."
The first time Lorne had come to this fortress was thirty years ago. At that time, he had just inherited the title of Duke and was unfamiliar with everything regarding this vital Imperial stronghold.
Back then, it was Robert, a veteran of the fortress, who had shown him the ropes.
"You were once the most fanatical of demon-slayers. You participated in almost every major campaign against the Demon Race. Your hands are stained with the blood of at least a hundred Demons."
"You hated the Demons more than anyone, because your comrades, your superiors, your soldiers, and many people you knew died at their hands."
"Even you yourself once narrowly escaped death, leaving a hand and a foot behind on that battlefield forever."
"And yet, a man like you chose to betray the Empire and join the side of the Demons."
Lorne motioned for Old Robert to stand, then looked him straight in the eye.
"Tell me, why? Is there some hidden hardship you cannot speak of?"
"...Ha, what hidden hardship could there be?"
Seeing that all hope of escape was gone, Old Robert became strangely unburdened.
He pulled out a bottle of wine and took several deep gulps, the liquid spilling down his grimy clothes.
After finishing, he wiped his mouth and said, "It’s simple. I’m a coward. I’m afraid to die."
"Afraid to die?"
Lorne couldn't help but look puzzled. "A man who has survived countless battles and brushed shoulders with death more times than he can count... is afraid to die?"
"Yes, I'm afraid to die," Old Robert laughed self-deprecatingly.
"After a person truly experiences so-called death, there are only two possibilities. One is to become completely indifferent to life and death, becoming even braver. The other is... to become even more terrified of it, becoming a total coward."
"And I... as Your Grace can see, am the latter."
Old Robert lowered his head, looking at his mechanical arm, his smile growing more mocking. "The older I get, the more I feel my body weakening, and the more I fear death. That is why I chose this path. There is no special reason, no hidden hardship. It is simply because I am a coward."
"But if you fear death, why would you do something as dangerous as being a mole? With your seniority and military merits, if you had only applied to me, I would have transferred you to the interior. You would have received a large pension and a fertile plot of land in the Campbell territory. You could have lived out your days in leisure until you died peacefully... You shouldn't have met an end like this." Lorne found it increasingly difficult to understand.
"Ha... because a coward like me isn't just afraid of dying on the battlefield. I am afraid of all death, even the peaceful kind that comes with old age... The mere thought of it fills me with uncontrollable dread."
Old Robert’s hands trembled slightly, as if he were already experiencing that terror.
But then, his smile turned eerie and manic.
"So, I chose to become a mole for the Demons. And they promised me that if I helped them, they would grant me... true immortality."