Bad Born Blood-Chapter 152

Chapter 152

Hemillas’s transmission wasn’t just confined to the Imperial Guard’s internal network. He was also sending the same footage to any available channels and networks with a slight delay.

More and more people were watching Hemillas’s broadcast through random networks. Even within Francec’s camp, people murmured amongst themselves.

‘So that’s why Hemillas didn’t come here—he was busy restoring the network.’

Hemillas wasn’t an expert in electronic warfare. He must have revived the network through physical means. He was well-acquainted with Akbaran’s systems, after all.

- The survival of the Imperial Guard depends on Crown Prince Francec. Those who stand with me, join him. I won’t stop those who wish to remain loyal to His Majesty. Blind loyalty is also a virtue of the Guard. In fact, that may be the more fitting path for a guardsman. You may consider me a traitor if you wish.

The Imperial Guard’s transmission was about to cut off.

- But if we fall today, it won’t just be the Guard—there will be no humans left in the imperial military. Creatures that were once human will wear our shells and pretend to be soldiers. We aren’t fighting for rewards. But if even our sense of honor and pride is erased, then what meaning does any of this have...

Hemillas’s voice was cut off. Only empty static remained.

"Now it’s up to the guardsmen to decide. The ones by Father’s side... they were all former Imperial Guards?"

Francec muttered as he pushed through the soldiers, moving forward. I followed closely behind.

Chaos erupted at the Arch of Triumph. Even the normally composed guardsmen were now arguing like the street rabble from the lower districts. Some even pointed fingers at each other. Tensions ran particularly high between the senior guardsmen and the centurions, the ones holding the real authority.

A clash of opinions was inevitable.

Francec’s revolution was built on two pillars: "The duty to protect the emperor" and "The protection of the empire’s people." Meanwhile, Hemillas had framed his argument around preventing "the dehumanization of the Imperial Guard."

‘Francec’s promise to preserve the Guard was obviously improvised.’

Even without analyzing it thoroughly, the pieces didn’t fit together perfectly.

‘Anyone with enough information who stops to think carefully will realize that Hemillas’s rhetoric is flawed. But everything is so uncertain and chaotic that even the sharpest guardsmen can’t make a clear decision.’

That was why the empire and the imperial family hid the truth between layers of lies, monopolizing information in secrecy. They used this foundation to build an ironclad surveillance state. When people couldn’t trust each other and lacked sufficient information, even the most capable individuals were unable to perform at their best.

‘Before they all regain their reason...’

This kind of propaganda only worked when there was no time to think. We couldn’t afford to give them a chance to cool down.

"...I will uphold my promise with Commander of the Imperial Guard, Hemillas Custoria. As proof of our alliance, Lukaus Custoria stands here with me!"

Francec shouted, keeping me by his side. His voice echoed as if amplified by a loudspeaker.

Though I was blind, unable to see the light in his eyes, I knew he was radiating an aura that captivated the guards.

‘A natural performer.’

It was hard to believe this was the same man who had been in a panic just moments ago.

‘A man born to command the masses.’

Every word, every movement was meticulously calculated for maximum effect. Even his cybernetics were adorned with decorative embellishments.

To Francec, the empire was a grand stage, and he was the star.

Step. Step.

Two Imperial Guards approached him and saluted. That was the spark—fractures within the Guard began to surface.

The rain briefly let up.

The guards with differing opinions shook hands, as if to reaffirm that this was merely a division of thought, not hatred.

There were 102 guards stationed at the Arch of Triumph. Of them, 34 sided with Francec. I focused my hearing to confirm their affiliations and ranks.

‘The numbers are small, but in terms of strength, it’s an even split. Four of the Legions have also joined us.’

The guards who sided with Francec were the more seasoned veterans. Five of them were senior guards from the 1st Centuria. Each of them was worth three or four lower-ranked guards in battle.

Some of the senior guards must have had an inkling of what happened to those who became irreversibly damaged from excessive Legion use. They weren’t fools.

The separation was peaceful.

The divided Imperial Guard now stood apart, staring at one another across the space between them.

"It would be right to defer command to Your Highness, but... this is not the time for such formalities. For now, we will act at our own discretion. Please forgive our impudence."

One of the senior guards stepped forward to address Francec. He glanced at me briefly before offering a short nod of acknowledgment.

‘The worst-case scenario—Akbaran’s civil war. If this doesn’t end tonight, the entire empire will be engulfed in war.’

At this point, I realized that the emperor’s wariness had been justified.

‘The Imperial Guard was always a group capable of stabbing the emperor in the back, given the right cause and opportunity.’

From a ruler’s perspective, the emperor must have intended to gradually replace this unstable military force. He had likely planned to fill the gap with perfect soldiers—ones who would never betray him, like the Shadows. It was a process that would take years.

...But then, Hemillas, a truly exceptional individual, had emerged and seized control of the Guard.

With the empire on the brink of war with other nations, the emperor couldn’t afford to let Hemillas continue unchecked. If he wanted to, Hemillas could take at least 30% of the Guard and form his own independent military faction. That was a conservative estimate. If he had invested more time and effort into consolidating his power, he could have taken over half of the Guard.

‘Hemillas was simply too capable for his own good.’

Because of my interference, things were now headed toward the worst possible outcome—a full-scale civil war.

‘For the empire as a whole, this is a disaster.’

But I decided I didn’t care.

‘A perspective that stretches far into the future. Judgment based on the greater good.’

I understood those ideals. But I had no intention of letting them crush me. I wasn’t a ruler. I was someone who crawled in the dirt, living moment to moment.

I wanted Hemillas to survive. I didn’t want Giselle to grieve. I wanted the Custoria family, the people who had accepted me as their own, to endure.

And so, I had to fight.

Kiing. King.

The guards who had sided with Francec took the lead, drawing their weapons. As expected of the Imperial Guard, their armaments varied. Each wielded melee weapons and firearms suited to their own preferences.

Shhhhhh!

Just when I thought the rain had stopped, it came pouring down again. The storm season was slowly cooling down the once-sweltering Akbaran, which had been warmed by geothermal power.

Kuuuururung!

Lightning flashed.

Right now, similar divisions were likely happening all across Akbaran. Scattered units must have heard Hemillas’s transmission. Of course, many would remain neutral or choose to stand by and do nothing.

The guards stationed at the Arch of Triumph had also finished their battle preparations, waiting for us with discipline. It felt less like a war and more like a duel.

"Lukaus, protect His Highness. You’re still just a cadet. You have no need to get involved in the Imperial Guard’s internal conflict."

The senior guardsman left me with those words and stepped forward. He said to protect Francec, but what he really meant was for me to stay in the rear.

From here on, it was an internal war among the Imperial Guard. No orders had been given, yet Francec’s soldiers remained still, merely watching.

A battle between guardsmen—beings of superhuman prowess—was bound to devolve into a chaotic mix of close-quarters combat and ranged attacks. Their individual skills were simply too exceptional. Even if Francec’s hastily assembled troops joined in, they would only be a hindrance.

Squelch. Squelch.

The divided guards stepped toward each other.

Ah, this scene—this must have been one of the reasons why Hemillas surrendered to the emperor. More than anyone, he would have loathed the sight of the Guard splitting apart and fighting amongst themselves.

The hundred or so guards gathered here were merely a microcosm of the greater turmoil. Elsewhere in Akbaran, other Imperial Guards, and even those deployed to the empire’s outer territories, were likely experiencing the same confusion.

Thud—woong!

A heavy gunshot echoed. A shock round, reminiscent of Ruina, struck one of the frontline guards. From the sound wave alone, I could estimate its destructive power.

That single shot was the spark.

The guards charged forward.

The cruel firearms forged in the imperial workshops spewed flame and energy, while melee weapons cleaved and crushed cybernetic limbs.

Clang! Thunk!

There were no grand battle cries, no screams. Only gunfire, the clash of weapons, and the occasional death rattle, carried by the rain.

It was almost eerily silent for a battlefield—a duel between the empire’s finest warriors.

And yet, they were undeniably killing each other.

The dying accepted their fate without resistance. Those who took the lives of their comrades pressed forward, relentless and unwavering.

I imagined it. Even the thought of killing a fellow cadet, someone I had trained with for just a few years, felt unsettling. I couldn’t begin to fathom the weight of the guilt they must be experiencing.

A wave of nausea surged through me. The deeper my thoughts became, the faster my mind raced, and the more the darkness within me grew.

Negative emotions swelled until they reached a breaking point.

Crack.

Something inside me shattered.

From the fractures, blood seeped out in slow, heavy drops. That thick, sticky blood was rotting—blackened with decay.

I was always so sensitive to the stench of others... So why had I failed to notice that I was rotting from within?

"Ugh—"

I clamped a hand over my mouth, suppressing the urge to retch. Even I was shocked by how much this had shaken me.

‘This scene... is my sin, my burden.’

If I had never interfered, the guards wouldn’t be slaughtering each other like this.

‘Hemillas found a way to end this with minimal sacrifice because he couldn’t bear to see this happen. And I ruined it.’

This entire disaster was of my own making. Because of me, they were killing each other.

The guilt and debt weighing on me grew like a snowball, becoming unbearable.

I was a short-sighted person—someone who only mourned the deaths of those close to me.

But the Imperial Guard... It was the only organization where I had ever felt a sense of belonging. And now, because of me, they were dying meaningless deaths. I knew better than anyone how much suffering, how much brutal training and trials they had endured to stand where they were.

‘So this... is what an ordinary person’s heart feels like.’

The emotions I had kept locked away were stirring awake. Even the revulsion toward killing that I had long forgotten was resurfacing.

I had never been strong. It was just that my hormone balance had been chemically altered, making me abnormal. A normal human being was supposed to feel disgust at taking a life.

The only reason I never felt guilt over killing was that I only recognized fellow guardsmen as "humans" like me. I had become desensitized to murder because I viewed everyone else as less than human.

Guilt—this was a horrifying emotional punishment. It couldn’t be fought off or erased.

Uwooooooo!

The Legions crashed into each other. Their roars, laced with mechanical distortion, rang out mournfully. Identical weapons clashed and shattered upon impact. And then, with nothing else left, they started pummeling each other’s heads with their fists.

The Legions were breaking apart. The thunderous impact of their destruction felt like it was stabbing into my brain.

If I blocked my ears, I wouldn’t have to hear their despair and sorrow. But I had to see this. This was my responsibility.

"Uweeeek!"

I staggered, vomiting between my fingers.

Francec looked startled but pretended not to notice.

‘Just moments ago, I thought Francec was weak for despairing over his family’s betrayal.’

But I was no different.

I was too much of a coward to even face my own sins.

How arrogant you had been, Luka.

I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. I was nothing more than this—a wretched, pathetic human being.

‘I’m sorry...’

I was just as despicable as the ones I had looked down upon.

Kiiiiiiing!

A sharp noise rang through the sky. My hypersensitive hearing picked it up before anyone else, and I instinctively looked up.

Others followed my gaze, turning toward the sky.

The piercing sound grew clearer. But nothing was visible.

‘It must be... beyond the clouds and storm...’

Something was happening at extreme altitudes, high above the storm, beyond its reach.

Kiiiiiiiiiiiing—!!

A piercing sonic boom ripped through the thunderstorm with enough force to tear it apart. The sound was so intense that I had to cover my ears to prevent my auditory perception from being overwhelmed. Yet, even then, the noise wasn’t completely muffled.

Kiiiiiiiiiing!

The tearing sound repeated. Something was falling from the sky over Akbaran.

Kwa-aaang!

It was as if meteors were crashing down around the Arch of Triumph. The impact was deafening, shaking the very ground beneath us.

The irregular descent occurred more than twenty times.

Grit, grind.

I uncovered my ears and expanded my auditory perception to its maximum range. Something was moving at the impact sites.

To withstand a descent of this magnitude, only Legion-class armored prosthetics would suffice. And even then, they would need specialized designs specifically for high-altitude assaults.

Ssssss...

A chilling mechanical hum echoed from all directions.

The armored prosthetics captured by my auditory perception resembled Legions but were subtly different. Most importantly, the Imperial Guard had no such high-altitude assault unit. In fact, no division in the imperial military utilized a combat strategy like this.

A special elite force that wasn’t officially part of any known unit. By process of elimination, there was only one possibility—the Emperor’s Shadows.

Chiiiiii.

The descending armored units were searing hot from atmospheric friction. Raindrops evaporated instantly upon contact with their outer shells.

The armored figures ignored the ongoing battle between the guards, advancing in formation to encircle Francec’s forces.

"Protect... Protect His Highness first!"

Officers belatedly registered the hostile units and shouted orders, rallying their troops. But even before the fight had begun, the soldiers were already paralyzed by the overwhelming presence of these armored figures.

"Huuh..."

I exhaled slowly, preparing for battle.

They were clearly targeting Francec. No matter how hard I fought, the chances of successfully protecting him were slim. But still, I had to—

Beep.

Even amidst the chaos, my terminal chimed.

With the network and communications in disarray, I had no way of knowing who had sent the message.

Since I couldn’t see, I played the audio instead. The synthesized voice came through the communicator embedded in the nape of my protective gear.

- Your insane strategy worked, Luka.

It was a neutral, mechanical voice. But the message alone was enough for me to recognize one man.

‘Kinuan...’

Kinuan had quietly slid the final piece of the puzzle into place.