Chapter 684: Chapter 597: The Zealot’s Demise

Cervantes staggered back as if his spine had been removed, barely avoiding a fall with the help of several subordinates who rushed to support him.

"Commander, Commander, what should we do next? Please issue orders quickly!"

The world spun around briefly, and Cervantes’ gaze gradually calmed as he said:

"Someone has betrayed us."

The people around him displayed expressions of confusion.

"The location of Gernika is known only to those among us."

"Those tactical deployments must have been leaked to Firefly by someone, surely..."

The stares directed at Cervantes became increasingly complex, knowing the final tactical deployments had not been discussed with any high-ranking Revolutionary Army members; the army’s role was merely to execute their own orders.

These orders theoretically existed as a complete model only in Cervantes’ mind.

"The administrative district’s defense line has been breached; those Firefly troops have pushed in!"

At that moment, a young soldier rushed in to report, while chaotic noises emanated from overhead.

Panic swept over the crowd; they were underground, and it wouldn’t be long before those Firefly troops would find them.

"Commander, shall we take you out of here?" someone urgently suggested from the front.

"Yes, Commander, let’s leave now. As long as we regroup with the outer units, we’ll still have the leverage to maneuver with Firefly!"

"As long as we’re alive, we’ll return to this ruin one day!"

"Shut up!" Cervantes growled, silencing everyone.

His eyes were bloodshot, looking like a hysterical beast on the verge of fury. No one dared to say a word, even knowing Cervantes’ mental state was problematic, like a powder keg ready to explode at the slightest spark.

"I still have a plan," Cervantes spoke as everyone held their breath, 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Anty, take your subordinates to the hallway entrance in Zone E to reorganize the defense line. Cordo, take the remaining engineering teams to destroy the corridors D2-D5, remember to set up traps, leave a few people to guard them, don’t let them flank us from the rear..."

Hearing Cervantes still issuing combat plans at such a time, the Revolutionary Army leaders exchanged glances, creating an eerie silence.

Cervantes assigned tasks to everyone, and upon noticing their hesitation, he questioned:

"Why aren’t you moving yet?"

The people around snapped back to reality, each with different thoughts, quickly dispersing with their subordinates.

They knew Cervantes well enough to understand that he was completely incompetent in military strategy; victories were mostly credited to several outstanding Revolutionary Army rewards, so naturally, they didn’t believe following the young man’s orders could pull them out of the crisis at such a time.

Conversely, they believed that beneath Cervantes’ calm facade was a soul already driven mad, issuing commands out of instinct in a state of mental breakdown.

In such a situation, holding the position was far more challenging than breaking through the siege. Supply and communication with the outside were completely cut off, support was never coming, and running out of ammunition and explosives was only a matter of time.

Leaving this room, they were to fight their final battle.

After the Revolutionary Army leaders had all left, deathly silence hung in the air. The young soldier stood trembling, waiting for orders, simultaneously intimidated and deeply admiring the young man before him, more so than Princess, he idolized this Siphaun.

The young soldier firmly believed that all suffering was brought by humans, and there was no possibility of negotiation between Bionics and Firefly. Everything they did was for freedom, dignity, and honor!

Following this commander was not merely to prevent Bionics from dying kneeling like camels, but rather to establish and lead a new order like lions on the ruins of this city of iron and fire, where no one would dare to enslave, oppress, or mock them, everyone would have to submit to their will!

"You’ve done well," Cervantes suddenly spoke in a hoarse voice.

The young soldier felt flattered and quickly bowed his head:

"I don’t believe there’s anything worthy of the Commander’s praise in me."

Cervantes shook his head, walked to the young soldier, placing his hands on his shoulders with extraordinary gravity:

"Merely by standing before me, your brilliance surpasses all."

"Honor crowns you," Cervantes softly spoke. "Honor crowns you."

The young soldier was dazed.

He could only watch as Cervantes solemnly reached towards his face, his heart too overwhelmed to speak; any young person being acknowledged so formally by the figure they admire would be like this, irrespective of time, place, or circumstances.

He watched, watching as the hand moved closer to his forehead.

Until...

Those hands violently tore his head apart.

Cervantes gazed at the eyes filled with disbelief, seeming to hold a dream even in their final moments. He faintly frowned, casually pulling out the wires and neural components entwining the young soldier’s brain, and upon seeing the deeply hidden emotional module, his perpetually calm lips curved upward.

...

The advance into the medical center met little resistance, the sparse gunfire alerting the Firefly troops, worried there might be lingering Rebel Army ambushes. Until without losing a single soldier, or encountering a worthy opponent, they saw the young man’s body.

Cervantes was dead.

This fervent commander had chosen suicide.

Before his death, he still wore that luxurious dark red robe. His frail body lay on the ground, a gap visible in his head, where electrical sparks flickered, his pale red eyes dim

And concurrently, at the exit of the underground administrative area, a young figure trudged forward, footsteps weighed heavily in the darkness, interspersed with sharp and slow breaths.

He gulped continuously to moisten his cracked throat. His damaged visual module bleak with error alerts, showing the world like a shattered mirror, everything in collapse.

A little further...

Just a little further, and he could leave here.

Soon, he could escape here.

All he wanted was nothing but to see the figure in his heart once more.

Beams of light spotlighted on him, nearby soldiers recognizing the damaged head and the young face smeared with blood and dust, two soldiers approached.

The young soldier, seemingly startled, covered his face, fell, and cried in fear.

"Please don’t hurt me... Please don’t hurt me, I was forced here, they coerced me, I didn’t harm anyone...

"There’s a Rebel Army dude here, shall we execute him?"

"Don’t!" The young soldier shuddered, crawling forward, clutching the Firefly soldier’s leg, seeking their mercy.

"I only want to go home... I want to see my family again."

"Family? This fellow’s seriously deluded." The Firefly soldier kicked the young man aside, clicking his tongue in disdain.

"Not family, my guardian..." The youth knelt, muttering with his head down.

The two Firefly soldiers exchanged glances, both showing sly smiles, kicking the young man further, one even crouched, pressing his head against the youth’s mouth:

"Huh? What did you just say?"

"I said..." Cervantes’ azure eyes emerged from the shadows, "I’m going to tear you all to pieces."