Indeed, Hell hardly requires eating, drinking or sleeping, but that doesn't mean that after seven days of intense mental work, no rest is needed.
After Batman's genius brain had been running at top speed for several days, Merkel could already smell the scent of overworked components scorched from such a distance.
He hesitated for a moment but still did not inform Batman of the bad news that the southern front had just been breached. Batman, taking the battle report from his hand, squinted his eyes in a somewhat bewildered manner. Merkel spoke up, "I think you should take a rest."
"That's what those Shillers are hoping for as well." Batman replied, his voice already hoarse. He said, "They're waiting for an opportunity, waiting for me to make a mistake, and then everything will collapse. I can't give them that chance."
"But you can't keep pushing yourself like this." Merkel frowned and said, "The body is the capital of revolution. Haven't you noticed? Your soul strength is declining."
That day, I heard the Grand Mage of Sandbank City say that the human soul is the most intricate among all races. The ordinary methods can't replenish our soul energy, it can only recover naturally."
"If you push your body too hard, it will lead to various negative effects, and it may also impact your physical state when you return to reality, and this impact is permanent."
"But I must win this battle first to return to reality." Batman shook his head gently, staring at the sand table on the table and said earnestly, "Although they are constantly attacking our defense line, attacks also come in waves. This means that as long as we can withstand one wave of attack, theoretically, we can withstand all the waves."
Merkel sighed and said, "But that is only theoretically. Do you know what your theory implies?"
"It implies that no one can make mistakes." Merkel tapped the table lightly with his finger and then said, "This isn't realistic. More importantly, you can't make a mistake. Are you really not going to make a mistake?"
Merkel pointed to the sand table on the table and said, "Now, we are being attacked from four directions: east, south, west, north and also the Grand Canyon, a straight path into our territory. The western battlefield has the shortest defense line, but a single defense line has to withstand at least 50 shocks a day."
"Which means, we have to face over 200 attacks every day. As for the tactical level of our grassroots commanders, it remains at the original demonic war level, we can't expect them to devise any above-average strategies. Understanding and executing orders is already the best-case scenario."
"In other words, among these 200+ attacks, all the decision-making stress is on you alone. Over 200 attacks per day, we need to hold out for at least ten days."
"Among these over 2000 decisions, you can't make any mistakes, nor can there be any deviation. Even if there's a possibility of deviation during execution, you need to salvage it."
All the decision-making stress is on you alone. Merkel shook his head and said, "I believe in your wisdom and willpower, but do you know, without a drive to push you forward, you can't withstand this level of intensity."
Batman took a deep breath and said, "Of course I know, but let's put off this topic and first solve these urgent strategic issues."
Batman and Merkel discussed for a while and initially set the upcoming defense strategy. As Merkel said, despite the certain reforms in various big realms of Hell, the increase in productivity, and the change in combat methods, they still had not fully transitioned to modern warfare.
Without the three-dimensional attack mode of sea, land and air and information warfare, in most wars, frontal assault is still the principal form of attack. Theoretically speaking, as long as we can withstand the strongest wave of frontal assault, we can withstand all remaining attacks.
However, in a nuanced battlefield, each possible scenario, each necessary tactic, all have to be decided by Batman, and he has no room for mistakes. One wrong move, could lead to a losing game.
Hell doesn't have a clear day and night. It's just during some time period, the magma that falls from the sky dims. This is what Hell refers to as 'night'. Yet, the River of Lava on the horizon is still brightly lit. Batman stood atop the mine mountain, looking towards the smoke rising from the river of lava in the distance.
On the skyline, the silhouette of a castle was exceptionally conspicuous. That was the castle where the Rotting Heart General used to stay, but now it's Shiller's residence.
Shiller had not shown himself these past few days. The last time Batman left, Shiller was not in a good condition. Thinking of this, Batman jumped off the mountain peak. A small dark figure leaping amidst the huge mountains, he quickly arrived at the castle gate.
After some thought, Batman didn't enter from the main entrance, but instead went around to the back of the castle and climbed over the wall.
As soon as he landed, he heard a voice above him, "Unfortunately, this castle doesn't have a garden. Otherwise, perhaps I could've enjoyed the sight of you being hung up by the rain awning again."
Batman looked up to see Shiller standing on the balcony of the second floor, looking down. Batman went through the back door of the front hall, went up the stairs to the bedroom door, and knocked.
At this point, he saw that the demon named Claude was fully armed, holding a spear, appearing as if he was about to leave. Shiller opened the bedroom door and Batman walked in.
"Are you leaving?" Batman asked.
Shiller nodded, took a look at Batman's condition, and then said, "Yes, I have other things to do."
"It's very dangerous to leave now." Batman's tone did not change, Shiller looked at Batman's pale face, he knew what had happened recently, before Batman could speak, Shiller said, "I've told you, I come to Hell, what's going to be in danger won't be me."
Shiller closed his eyes, sighed, and said, "When you asked me the first question, I could feel you caring about me. But do you really care?"
Suddenly, Batman saw Shiller showing a crazily happy smile. He walked up, stared into Batman's eyes, and said, "Do you know why the other personalities are targeting me?"
"Why?"
"It's a competition," Shiller raised his voice to say, "And the prize for the winner is the right to rise to the surface to control the body, in other words, the winner can replace me."
Shiller stared into Batman's eyes and said, "If you lose, you won't see me again... good news, right?"
"Tell me, are you feeling happy and relaxed?"
Batman subtly tilted his head up, he could clearly sense that he had inadvertently ignited a blaze in his chest, like a bright lamp that could illuminate Hell.
What could sustain him to accomplish the impossible, to gain the power he never had, to become the Chosen One?
Is it justice? Is it revenge?
No, Batman thought, perhaps, it's salvation.
Salvation for the person least likely to be saved in this world, his enemy, his mentor, who are about to become one - Shiller Rodriguez.
However, whether it's Shiller or Joker, they both resist being cared for and never respond. Those who care for them are like performing to the air, like a real joker.
But Batman didn't care, he was more stubborn than others on any issue.
...Wait, does Shiller really not respond?
At this time, Shiller has brushed past Batman, planning to leave. At this moment, Batman's voice came from behind him.
"So, why are you leaving?"
Shiller's silhouette paused for a moment, then continued forward.
Batman watched his retreating figure, thinking that this was indeed a classic case of pride and prejudice.