Chapter 1511: Hand of light
~~~~~
"Are you ready, Guards?!" Holak’s roar split the air like a warhorn, his voice booming across the basin with such power that even the hardened commanders outside the pit would have shivered.
"Yes, yes, Captain!!" Hundreds of young men and women stood at the bottom of what once had been a great lake, now drained until only cracked stone and hardened mud remained. Their voices rose together, echoing like thunder rolling inside a canyon.
"Good!" Holak’s eyes burned as he lifted his chin proudly. "Today, a new leader shall be chosen. Today, one among you will become the Captain of the Space Guard Unit—the one who will stand above the rest, the one who will answer to me directly, the one who will shoulder the weight of responsibility for all his comrades!"
He stretched out one massive hand, pointing toward them like a judge passing sentence. "Crush each other! Prove yourselves! The last one standing will wear the mantle of leadership. Begin!!"
"Haha! May the best win, my friends!" Wade grinned broadly, rolling his shoulders, his knuckles cracking like breaking stone as he prepared to launch at the first challenger. But then—he froze.
Something was wrong. "Hmm?"
All eyes were on him. Not just one or two. Every single trainee in the pit. Then, from among them, one boy stepped forward. His voice rang out, steady but strained. "Forgive us, Brother Wade... but we have to take you out first. If we don’t, then the outcome will be decided before the fight even begins."
The rest of the trainees nodded in grim agreement. Dozens of heads bowed slightly, as though admitting shame, yet still standing by the decision. No one wanted to face Waid alone. Not one of them believed they could. If he remained in the fight, there would be no contest. Better to band together, to throw him out early, than be broken one by one.
Waid’s grin widened. Slowly, he raised both arms. In an instant, twin daggers appeared, gleaming coldly in the dim light. His aura flared like a storm barely contained, "Kekekeke... so you’ve all agreed then? Good. Because the result is already written no matter what you choose. Come at me! Let’s see how long you last!"
*CRACK!*
~~~~
*Shwaaa!* Holak swept aside the flaps of the command tent with a dismissive wave, the heavy fabric flapping violently from the force. He entered with booming steps, his presence filling the chamber like a living storm.
"Koko! You’re looking well, boy!" His grin stretched wide, his teeth glinting in the lantern light.
"...." Caesar didn’t so much as glance up. His eyes remained locked on the vast maps spread across the strategy table before him. The generals surrounding him bristled, hands twitching at the insult, but with a sharp flick of his fingers, Caesar silenced them.
He pressed both hands onto the table, leaning forward slightly, his voice low and edged. "Holak. The fact that you hold an official rank does not mean you are beyond my reach. You understand that... don’t you?"
"Haah-haah!" Holak only laughed, his voice booming. He strode forward without hesitation and clapped a massive palm onto Caesar’s back. The blow was so strong that faint shockwaves rippled through the tent, rattling the table legs and making ink pots quiver. "I jest, boy, I jest! Why not call me Huhu as well?"
"I don’t want to!" Caesar snarled, brushing off the enormous hand with clear irritation. "What business brings you barging into the war chamber?"
"To introduce you to some of the young blood," Holak said simply. He snapped his fingers and jerked his thumb toward the entrance. "Come in! Don’t be shy—he doesn’t bite."
From behind him, three figures stepped in. Two young men and a young woman, their boots striking the ground in perfect unison. They stood tall, shoulders squared, hands clasped tightly behind their backs in rigid formality. Their eyes burned with determination, but their bodies betrayed their tension.
"We greet His Highness! We greet the First Supreme General!" they cried together, their voices strong and steady despite the nerves that trembled beneath.
"Hm?" At last Caesar lifted his head, turning his gaze toward them. His sharp eyes studied each of their faces with quiet scrutiny. "And who are these three?"
"Malak, Latanya, and Wade," Holak declared, gesturing proudly toward them. "I’ve chosen them to lead the three division of the Imperial Guard—the second line of command, after me. I deemed it proper to present them to you in person."
"...." Caesar stepped around the table, his boots striking firmly against the ground as he approached the three. His eyes were calm, but the weight in them was heavy, pressing upon the young guards like stone.
"I once swore to my father," Caesar began talking, his voice lower, slower, "that I would guard him with my very life. But fate had other plans. Fate forged me into a general, one who wages wars on distant worlds, who conquers, who expands the reach of his dominion. I cannot always stand at his side... but I have heard much about you three. I have nothing more to say to you except this: give everything you have and you will not regret it. Do not falter. His Majesty is not merely our ruler—he is our present, and our future."
"Understood!!" the three shouted as one, their voices echoing in the tent. For a brief moment, it was as though the burden of the Empire itself had fallen onto their shoulders. "And now, you shall—"
*CRAAAACK!*
~~~~~
"Hooh~" In front of the swirling, radiant gates of a massive space portal, Wade bounced on his feet like a boy too restless to stand still, his nerves plainly written across his face. He hopped once, twice, then rubbed the back of his neck, muttering under his breath. "So... His Majesty is really inside the Dawn Light Stellar Academy? Right now? We’ll finally see him with our own eyes?"
"That’s what we were told," Latanya replied with a short nod. Her usual sharp, battle-hardened expression was absent, replaced by something far more fragile. The fierce edge in her jaw had softened into tightness, her teeth pressing down—not to suppress her fury as always, but to keep the anxiety from breaking through.
"The message came from none other than His Highness Theo himself. Still..." she lowered her gaze slightly, her voice dropping, "...I can’t help but wonder. Just how vast has the gap become between him and us?"
"Kekekeke!" Wade suddenly burst into laughter, his tension spilling out as jokes. He slapped Latanya’s armored shoulder with an exaggerated grin. "I imagine that His Majesty glances at someone once, *just once,* and their clothes fall right off! Stripped bare with a look!"
Latanya frowned, though her lips twitched faintly, betraying that the corner of her heart needed the levity. "Not quite to that extent."
Malak’s steady, deep voice cut between them, grounding their spinning nerves. His head shook with measured calm, his eyes narrowing as though to keep their expectations in check. "His Majesty may have grown immeasurably, but he is still a Martial Emperor, just as we are. His power—whether great or small—matters little. In the end, our strength is his strength." His gaze swept over the two of them, steady as a general commanding troops. "So tell me—does that make him strong?"
Latanya lifted her chin, determination hardening her trembling voice. "Yes. Because we are his strength."
"Exactly."
"Without rival! Kekeke!" Wade grinned, raising both arms high to flex the sinew of his arms, his face glowing with pride.
"Good." Malak nodded once, but his eyes sharpened again as he tilted his head toward them. "Now, tend to the scars on your faces. We will not shame ourselves before His Majesty. He deserves perfection."
"....." Latanya and Wade exchanged a long glance, the same thought moving between them without words. Slowly, they lowered themselves to sit cross-legged on the stone floor. From their packs, they activated a compact, portable medical array, and soft streams of healing light began weaving across their skin. As the glow touched his face, Wade’s lips curled into a faint smile.
At last. At last, the moment had come—the very reason he had been ripped from his family at the age of ten, the reason he had endured training and torment, the reason he had bled and survived. He would finally meet His Majesty.
What would he be like? Was he tall, a towering presence, or short and unassuming? Did he already know their names, their faces, the ones who had been forged to guard him? How would his eyes look, when they fell upon them for the first time?
Wade’s heart hammered wildly in his chest. The anticipation was unbearable, like fire racing through his veins. This was the moment. This was it—
*Crack* *Crack*
"Waaaaaaade~~" "
Hm?" Wade’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of that familiar voice. But when vision returned, he wasn’t at the portal anymore. He was back—back inside his corrupted soul domain, where endless shadow reigned.
"Oh... another dream..." His voice broke into a crooked laugh, "Ke... keke.... ke..."
And he let his heavy eyes fall shut again. When he had first sensed the attack, Wade had entered his soul domain to check the damage.
But unlike Robin, he had been unable to return.
The door had closed. He had been trapped ever since—trapped inside, screaming, watching the land and walls of his inner world crumble, the soul creatures rotting and dissolving before his very eyes. In the end, his spiritual form had been dragged under, drowned entirely, until nothing remained but nightmares and fractured memories.
"Waaaaadeeee!!"
"Hmm?" Once more, he tried to open his eyes—or at least, he thought he did. But there was nothing left around him now. No land, no sky, no shape. Only black corruption and endless decay. He raised his trembling arms upward, desperation cracking through his voice. "I’m here! I’m here!"
His cry faded quickly, his strength bleeding away as his arms fell back down like dead weight. He knew too well... it was just another dream.
"I’m... here..."
But then— *SWOOOOOOSH!* A blinding white brilliance slashed through the black, cutting across the void like a blade. It descended in a torrent, pouring straight onto his face.
And from that radiance, a hand reached out. Fingers of light seized his hair, tugged hard, and with a savage pull, dragged him upward. "Ahhh!!"
Outside—
"AAAHHHH!!" Wade’s body convulsed as his mouth opened in a scream, his voice splitting the silence at last.
Pain flooded him—the fire of returning to flesh, the stabbing migraine, the suffocating sensation of being forced back into a body that had nearly forgotten him. His breath came ragged, but slowly, his eyelids lifted. Black eyes, once drowned in shadow, quivered as a speck of white appeared at their core.
The first sight he saw... A hand clamped firmly upon the crown of his head. Another pressed against his forehead. A figure loomed over him, clear, steady, unshaken.
"...Your Majesty?" Relief and terror crashed together in his chest. For Robin stood before him—not broken, not bloodied, not corrupted. His eyes shone clear, his body unmarred, his clothes untouched by the stains of battle. "You... you look fine? How? Did help come? Is... is this still a dream?!"
"Shhh..." Robin’s gaze locked on Waid’s, calm and unwavering, his voice carrying the weight of truth. "You will be fine now."