Chapter 984: The Battle for Gao Ta (19)

The massive central mine, like a gaping abyss, continuously swallowed the demon soldiers who dared to enter; all vanguard units that entered the central mine fell silent, and not even the messengers returned as scheduled, leaving General Fuxin utterly baffled.

In truth, he himself had never ventured deep into the central mine—it was not the kind of task a general should undertake. His reconnaissance troops had never paid attention to the mine itself, since there were no soldiers there; it was better to patrol the borderlines than to wander aimlessly through the mine, mapping its terrain.

Since the vanguard had failed, General Fuxin could not simply abandon the assault; even if he couldn’t defeat the enemy inside, he should at least have withdrawn his forces. At this point, he had not yet considered the possibility of total annihilation.

So he sent another unit—this time, the attack met little resistance; the demon soldiers advanced smoothly through the gate and into the tunnel, only to encounter the exact same situation as before.

Because General Fuxin had devised no strategy to counter the mine’s environment, the second unit vanished into the depths of the mountain, just like the first.

By now, General Fuxin finally sensed something was wrong—he suspected the enemy had laid some powerful trap. If another demon lord was behind this, such tactics were not impossible; all it would take was hiding a few mages inside the mine.

He halted the offensive and began consulting his staff and mages, trying to determine what kind of magical trap had swallowed two entire units.

With the assault paused, the slave miners in the mine finally caught their breath. They dragged the corpses of dead demon soldiers into the molten sea at the lowest level. After Batman declared a ceasefire, the first to approach him was the ecstatic Liujiao.

“My god! I can’t believe it! We actually defeated those ferocious demon soldiers?! I never even dared to dream of this!” Liujiao rattled off a flood of exclamations. Batman sat across the fire, watching him silently, then asked:

“You’re no longer a slave. So what do you plan to do next?”

Liujiao paused, then asked in return: “What do you mean, what I plan to do next? What can I do? Of course I’ll keep mining!”

“Do you really like mining? Isn’t there anything else you’d want to do?”

“I’ve always mined,” Liujiao said, waving his tentacles as if bewildered. “What do you mean by ‘liking’ something? Are you saying I shouldn’t mine? Should I do something else? But I don’t know how to do anything else!”

“Do you know, Liujiao? The world outside is vast. The mine where you grew up isn’t the whole world. The Wasteland isn’t the whole world. Even Hell is merely one region within the universe.” Batman’s voice carried a distant melancholy.

“Don’t you want to see it? See what lies beyond the mine, beyond Hell—how other life forms live there?”

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“But how they live—what does that have to do with me?” Liujiao replied, even more confused. “I’m just a half-breed shadow vine. All shadow creatures mine for demon lords…”

“Besides, you want me to leave the mine and see the outside—but the mine is still full of General Fuxin’s troops. To overthrow him and become the new mine lord, you’d have to unite all six other mountains. That’s impossible!”

“Who said I want to become the new mine lord?” Batman asked, staring at Liujiao. Liujiao froze completely. “If you don’t want to rule the mine, why are you fighting General Fuxin?”

Batman paused, as if unsure where to begin, then slowly spoke: “I know your race has lived this way for generations—you work for mine lords without pay, forced by violence, terrified into obedience.”

“Here, you get no fairness. Your life and death are decided by others. But when you feel fear, have you ever wondered—is this truly right?”

“When you fear death, have you ever regretted not resisting before, so now you’re left at the mercy of others?”

These questions left Liujiao silent for a long time—he seemed to feel such philosophical musings were too heavy for a newborn. Batman didn’t press him further. He stood up, intending to speak with the elder of the Suoshe demons. But just then, Liujiao spoke:

“So you’re rebelling against General Fuxin because you fear he’ll kill you? But if you just worked hard…”

“Didn’t you work hard before?” Batman turned back, speaking softly. “Didn’t the overseers still give you an impossible task, then threaten to throw you into the lava?”

“When you hand over the power to decide your own life and death to others, you must understand: those who hold such power have no mercy, and they will never create a truly fair rule.”

“Because as long as they can kill you at any moment, they can overturn any rule at will. If you don’t want to die, you must resist—take back that power. The first step to freedom is creating a chance to survive by your own strength.”

Liujiao fell silent, lost in thought. Batman turned and left. He found the Suoshe elder—and the elder was already looking for him.

The Suoshe elder offered a flattering smile. “My lord, you’ve defeated the mighty Revival General and seized the central mine. Soon, you may conquer the entire mine. I’ve never met a demon lord as wise as you…”

He bowed low, coiling his serpent tail, lowering his posture, pressing his fingertip to the center of his brow, and bowed his head to Batman: “You are the hope of the Suoshe’s revival. We wish to follow you, to build glorious achievements…”

Batman looked at him and asked: “What is the Suoshe demon race? And what are you?”

The Suoshe elder did not rise. He spoke calmly: “You’ve already noticed, haven’t you? We are different from the other slaves in the mine. The Suoshe were never a weak race. In fact, we once fought alongside Pielibi.”

“During the era when Lord Pielibi was still a demon prince, our ancient Suoshe leader pledged loyalty to him, followed him through countless battles, and helped him achieve glorious victories. The leader was granted a duchy on the border—just as Lord Astrol is today.”

“But then, a Medusa named Das, seduced Lord Pielibi and became the new empress.”

The Suoshe elder’s face twisted with hatred. “This wicked empress, to elevate her own kind, sought to exterminate the Suoshe—another serpent demon race.”

“She orchestrated a conspiracy that made Lord Pielibi suspect his loyal Suoshe leader. In the end, the Suoshe leader was executed by Pielibi, and all Suoshe were reduced to slaves, cursed to lose their magic.”

“A once-magical race, stripped of its magic, could not survive by physical strength alone against other powerful demons. The Suoshe had no choice but to retreat into the mines—only as slaves could we survive…”

He lowered his body again, speaking humbly to Batman: “In ancestral texts passed down through generations, I glimpsed my ancestors’ glory. Your bearing mirrors that of young Lord Pielibi. Lead us—conquer new lands!”

“You want me to become the new demon lord?” Batman asked.

“Yes, my lord. You have such potential. Once you seize the mine, General Fuxin’s territory and army will give you enough power to build your own force. If you lift the curse from the Suoshe, we will serve you with all our strength…”

Batman saw the deep wrinkles on the elder’s face—and it reminded him of another man: the old man in the slums who had once tried to sell him drugs as medicine.

Batman realized: such Diceng people, especially elderly ones, always carried a habitual humility and flattery in their expressions. This obsequiousness wasn’t feigned—it was etched deep into their souls.

Now, this old demon saw Batman as a savior, hoping he would restore the Suoshe to glory. But Batman felt something was off—a strange unease clung to him.

Batman could never feel sympathy for demons. Everything he did here was merely to observe humanity through the lens of demons.

These were two remarkably similar races—equal in intelligence, habits, and society. The only difference from human society was this: as a human, Batman faced no consequences here. This was his proving ground.

According to the script, Batman knew he should accept the Suoshe’s loyalty, then use this smarter-than-average demon race to command the others, deepen his tactics, build a more efficient war machine, and gradually win.

He would be crowned king, gain vast lands. To hold such lands, he’d need a powerful army. To build a powerful army, he’d need equipment. For sturdy armor, he’d need smelted ore. For enough ore, he’d need miners.

Someone would be the general. Someone would be the slave. The slave’s life and death would still rest in the general’s hands—in this endless cycle of dynastic fate, the trap was unsolvable.

But for Batman himself—did he come here to become a demon lord? What use did he have for Hell’s territories?

True, conquering Hell would be engraved as a medal in his collection. Perhaps, someday, it could become a weapon against demons who invaded the human world. But was that enough?

On these oppressed demon slaves, Batman saw the suffering masses of Gotham.

From birth to adulthood, they were bound to a tiny patch of land, never seeing the sky beyond. They didn’t even know what resistance meant—or that fate could be in their own hands.

Batman stepped forward—and they saw him as a savior, convinced he would become a mighty king. But this would only amaze them, then return them to passive submission, day after day.

Was this life truly terrible for them? Not really. They knew nothing, so they desired nothing. No desire meant no pain.

But Batman called it numbness. Their ignorance wasn’t their choice—it was the product of an unjust world. And leading such numb people to victory after victory would only yield another unjust world.

Batman suddenly realized: if he still saw himself as a savior, and demanded they see him as one, nothing would change. No matter who became king, the plight of the Diceng masses remained unchanged.

But without a savior—who could they rely on?

In the lull of war, Batman began pondering deeper questions.

But as in Gotham, victory and peace were temporary. Things always slipped downward, inevitably, toward the abyss.