Chapter 1354: Traitor?
Chapter 1354: Traitor?
Razputin opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words.
His mind railed with all sorts of answers and ideas, yet none could counter the iron determination Minxet had just displayed.
After nearly thirty seconds of burning through every possible strategy, he sighed and shook his head in resignation.
“Fine.
I lost.
He did uncover my actions.” Minxet’s eyes sharpened, and a cold, murderous glint appeared in them as he heard Razputin’s admission of guilt.
However, in the next instant, confusion clouded Minxet’s expression.
The man of the Inferno Daemon Race showed absolutely no fear despite having admitted his cris.
There was resignation and defeat, yes, but no sign of impending doom on the face of a man who was about to face punishnt a hundred tis worse than death.
How could soone remain so composed when condemned to such a fate?
Minxet’s confusion only grew stronger as the Scarlet King, Cain, showed no sign of wrath or coldness either.
The King’s eyes revealed so disappointnt, but beyond that there was nothing-no fury, no vengeful malice.
It made no sense.
Minxet’s mind churned, trying to reconcile what he knew with what he saw unfolding before him.
“What is going on?” Minxet wondered silently.
Just as these thoughts crossed Minxet’s mind, Cain shook his head, still focusing on Razputin.
“Isn’t the goal of a secret organization to remain secret?” Razputin, the Chief Counselor from the Inferno Daemon Race, wore a complicated expression before sighing softly.
“Ahhh, it was supposed to be a secret to everybody.
I did my best to ensure no one knew anything about it, but this old man is simply too stubborn.” He shrugged his shoulders with a casualness that bordered on the surreal.
“Anyone else would have given up, but he kept pushing.
How can I compete with that?
I think Your Highness would agree that I did everything right.” Cain studied Razputin for a few seconds, then nodded.
“You did indeed do everything right.
Even after parsing through all the data from the computer rings and A.I.
chips of the world, I uncovered nothing.” Razputin puffed out his chest slightly, pride flickering across his face as he nodded.
“Hah, of course, Your Highness.
It took a lot of hard work, but I managed to cut down all forms of information recording during etings.” “What is happening!?” The shout ca from Minxet, who could no longer contain his bewildernt.
The usually composed Pri Minister of the Godslayer Humankind Empire now looked on the verge of an aneurysm.
His calm aura had vanished completely, and he seed utterly incapable of processing this bizarre turn of events.
A mont ago, he had exposed Razputin as a traitor, only to find Cain and Razputin conversing as though the entire matter were so clever ga they played together.
An awkward expression appeared on Cain’s and Razputin’s faces as they noticed Minxet’s near-hysterical confusion.
It was clear that an explanation was needed.
“Old man,” Razputin began, addressing Minxet in a careful, soothing tone, “you were correct in many things, including the fact that I am the Grand Elder of that secret rebellious organization.
But you were wrong in one aspect: I am not its leader.” Minxet’s eyes widened with utter shock and stupefaction.
If Razputin was not the leader, then who-?
The answer ca even before he could form the question.
Razputin raised his hand, pointing to Cain.
At that mont, Minxet saw Cain nodding, confirming the truth.
The true leader of the rebellion that opposed the Scarlet King’s reign was Cain himself.
“Why?” The single word slipped from Minxet’s lips, heavy with confusion.
Why would the Scarlet King go through all this trouble, using Razputin as a proxy to create a rebellious organization that directly confronted his own reign?
It seed like a mad puzzle with no logical solution.
Cain could sense the waves of confusion assaulting Minxet’s mind.
The Pri Minister’s thoughts were likely racing with theories and contradictions.
To help clarify, Cain turned to Razputin again.
“Do you have the last large eting of the organization recorded?” “Yes, my King.
According to your instructions, I have recorded all the etings and interactions of the organization,” Razputin imdiately replied.
“Show it,” Cain commanded, nodding.
Razputin focused on his computer ring, and the next second, a holographic projection appeared on the ceiling of the throne room.
Minxet looked up and found himself staring at a massive underground facility filled with tens of thousands of people.
In this projection, the essence of a fascist gathering perated the air.
The crowd was drawn from the six Sacred Races, but they were clearly divided into their own camps, separated by race and old rivalries.
Their mutual distrust was evident as mbers of one race glared at those of another with open hostility.
Yet, for all their xenophobia and simring hatred, they were here, together, focused on a singular cause.
This was a twisted unity forged through collective resentnt, a toxic alliance of those who despised the Scarlet King’s order and yearned for blood and conquest.
Within the projection, one could see each racial faction standing apart, forming their own clusters.
So had banners emblazoned with old symbols harking back to eras of war.
Others muttered slurs under their breath.
The atmosphere crackled with malice.
It wasn’t the harmonious blending of cultures that Cain’s rule encouraged; it was a gathering of bigots who found unity only in their shared desire to tear down the current regi.
The essence of a fascist congregation was unmistakable: chest-thumping, snarling hatred, slogans of supremacy.
The oppressive energy in the hall was almost palpable, reminiscent of grand rallies where logic and empathy were sacrificed at the altar of fanaticism.
All these thousands of angry souls were focused on the figure at the front.
The man was covered in shadows, but Minxet could tell it was none other than Razputin acting as their Grand Elder.
His presence commanded attention, and he spoke in a distorted voice so that none might recognize him easily.
“We are present here despite our hatred and animosity,” Razputin’s voice rang out, projected clearly in the throne room.
The crowd in the hologram listened intently.
“Because we have a goal: to return the world to its natural state and wash away the Scarlet Ideology!” Imdiately, the crowd erupted.
The tens of thousands of people began to shout, their voices blending into a thunderous roar of hatred.
Their eyes blazed with loathing.
They stomped and chanted in a frenzy, calling for the downfall of the Scarlet King’s order.
The xenophobia that divided them was temporarily overshadowed by their collective hatred for what Cain represented-order, peace, and cooperation between races.
Here, they craved a return to a ‘natural state’ of eternal conflict and strife, a twisted nostalgia for endless war.
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