Lord of the Truth

159 Years After Robin Reached the Mid Belt — Somewhere Within Mid-Sector 99

"…That is the full report, Supreme Guardian"

The Shadow Sword lowered his voice respectfully as he finished his briefing, then raised his head slightly—just enough to catch a glimpse of the towering presence before him. The figure radiated overwhelming pressure, like a dormant volcano. The Shadow Sword quickly lowered his gaze again.

"We apologize for the delay in transmitting the latest reports. Cross-sector communication is only viable through the Soul Society. Even then, the Society demands an exorbitant fee for direct, uninterrupted data transfers."

"No matter, no matter~"

The figure before him reclined atop a raised obsidian dais. Nearly three meters tall, the man's body was a sculpted force of power—lean but muscular, carved like a statue of war. His dark armor was thin and flexible, its translucent surface revealing taut muscles beneath, like a predator at rest.

He was none other than Holak, the Supreme Guardian of the Empire—one of its most feared beings.

"So, has that boy—Caesar—finally subdued his third planet?"

Holak let out a deep chuckle, his voice a low, rumbling sound like shifting tectonic plates.

"Heh… that war dragged on for far too long. Nearly a hundred and fifty years for just three planets? I'm going to give him a hard time next time we meet—maybe flick his forehead a few times for good measure."

The Shadow Sword couldn't stay silent in the face of that casual dismissal.

"With all due respect, Supreme Guardian… General Caesar is fighting on three simultaneous fronts. He's invading the Iron Boar Empire entirely on his own while also reinforcing the Empire of the Nine Paths on two defensive fronts against two other Empires. It's not a lack of efficiency—it's a miracle."

He took a breath, then added:

"And what's more, he's doing all this with only half of the First Army's full strength. The remaining half is still stationed in the Young Belt, maintaining the momentum of planetary annexation there. To carry out such a multi-front campaign in the Mid Belt is no trivial matter. Even Supreme General Aru and Supreme General Sakaar have started to show envy. Nearly every day, they send formal requests to Headquarters, asking for permission to participate in the Mid Belt conflict."

The Shadow Sword lowered his gaze again and spoke solemnly.

"The Lady of Headquarters has already submitted multiple proposals to the Empire of the Nine Paths, offering military reinforcement. However, they repeatedly refuse, citing insufficient resources to cover the salaries of our high-grade troops. Still… there are rumors. Whispers of ongoing negotiations—led personally by our Prime Minister—to grant us territorial rights over certain affiliated planets in exchange for the deployment of the Third Armies."

"Tch~ A bunch of nonsense," Holak scoffed, lifting his pinky finger and lazily scraping at his teeth, as if the fate of empires was little more than an after-dinner conversation.

"If I sent just a handful of my boys to one of those planets, they'd have it cleared before sunset."

"Please, don't!"

The Shadow Sword instinctively raised both hands in alarm, the image of a scorched planet flashing through his mind.

"The Imperial Guards must never reveal their full might unless absolutely necessary. Their intervention is a weapon of last resort!"

"Relax, boy," Holak said with a smirk, shrugging his massive shoulders.

"I was speaking hypothetically~ Of course, we won't interfere with the affairs of the three main armies in the Mid Belt. That's precisely why I relocated the boys here—to Sector 99. Let the armies have their little wars in peace. And we will play our way."

"..."

The Shadow Sword could feel beads of sweat forming on his brow. He never questioned a single word that came from the Supreme Guardian's mouth—because he knew that none of it was bluff. The reputation of the Imperial Guards had long since become legend. Beings feared across star systems. Forces of nature molded into humanoid form.

In terms of physical power, each Guard bore the fourth-stage of the Giants' Body Strengthening tattoo system.

In terms of energy, they all commanded Fundamental Major Laws—Time, Space, and Resonant Waves—three of the most elusive and powerful forces in existence.

In terms of soul, every single one of them had fully awakened their soul domains, having undergone the Empire's highest-tier soul cultivation techniques. Each Guard is a soul master, capable of commanding soul creatures, bending illusions, and resisting mental devastation.

In terms of equipment, at least half of them were armed and armored to the same standard as the Three Supreme Generals—wearing mid-tier epic gear.

In terms of combat experience, they all practiced the same brutal, overwhelming fighting style of Holak himself— Pure Violence.

As for their nature...

"Ahh… So, tell me—how are the boys doing?"

Holak leaned back slightly, plucked a chunk of meat from between his back molars, and wiped it on the hard, dark stone beneath him like one might discard a speck of dust.

His tone was casual, too casual, considering the magnitude of what he was asking.

"It's been a few years. By now, most of them should be done. Surely."

The Shadow Sword hesitated. Just for a moment. A single breath's worth of silence. Then:

"…Supreme Guardian, forgive my candor, but… don't you think the missions assigned to them are… excessive?"

He clenched his hands behind his back, choosing each word carefully.

"I mean—missions like annihilating entire kingdoms of non-human races… draining two barrels of blood from a Beast King older than five million years… infiltrating the heart of an interplanetary war and annihilating both sides… or exterminating pirate armadas—these are missions that would require entire battalions in other empires. And yet, we assigned them individually."

Holak tilted his head slowly, raising a thick, scarred brow.

"If I ask for your opinion, then you may share it. Otherwise…"

His tone sharpened, each word edged with steel.

"Answer my question. Directly."

The Shadow Sword instantly straightened his posture, beads of sweat forming at his temple.

"Have the boys completed their missions… or not?"

"…Half of them have."

The Shadow Sword lowered his voice further, as if afraid that speaking the truth too loudly might awaken the very beasts they had loosed upon the stars.

"Approximately four hundred kingdoms have been erased from existence. The blood of many a Beast Kings has been harvested. Warring armies have disappeared as if they never were. Space pirate strongholds lie in ruins. Sector 99 itself has begun to stir… whispers of anomalies, panic is now everywhere, sudden silence where once there was chaos."

"Hah! Let them panic."

Holak threw his head back in laughter—deep, guttural, and echoing.

"Let them tremble in confusion. Let their so-called scholars and sages try to make sense of it all. When all the boys ascend—every single one of them—into World Cataclysm REalm, I want to see the look on their faces. That… is my entertainment."

He slammed his foot twice on the ground below, the sound ringing like a war drum.

Then, smirking, he tilted his head toward The Shadow Sword again.

"And the rest? What's taking them so long?"

Shadowblade's voice grew grim.

"…The others are either still searching for viable targets or are in the middle of executing their operations."

A pause. Then, with palpable tension:

"However… three of the Guards have perished."

Holak's smile faltered.

"They encountered unexpected resistance," The Shadow Sword continued quietly,

"…World Cataclysm-class threats—entities even we had not anticipated. The losses were… immediate."

He bowed his head lower, visibly shaken.

To lose three Imperial Guards… warriors crafted to be apex predators of the battlefield… was a blow. A heavy, bitter one.

Holak narrowed his eyes. For a moment, his face grew dark—like a thunderstorm building over a still sea.

"Tch… A waste of time and supplies. Should've broken them down further before I sent them out."

He scratched his head in irritation, muttering something under his breath. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed a spatial ring toward The Shadow Sword.

It wasn't an ordinary ring.

It radiated weight—a ring not forged anywhere within the Empire of True Beginning, but something far older.

"Send this to Headquarters," Holak said.

"Maybe they'll find some use for it."

The Shadow Sword caught the ring but dared not scan it.

"…What shall I log in the report, Supreme Guardian?"

"A turtle-type Ancient Beast. Its core. Its heart. All its blood. A dozen scales from its shell. A few teeth, perhaps."

Holak stood slowly, stretching, his spine cracking like stone slabs shifting into place.

"Might make some decent armor."

Then, with a single stomp—BAAAM—he vanished.

Not a trace.

No light. No explosion. No residual ripple of power.

Only silence.

And then… The Shadow Sword noticed something.

The ground.

The "floor" Holak had been sitting on just moments ago… wasn't ground.

It had eyes.

And a shattered mouth.

The Shadow Sword instinctively stepped back and looked around, heart pounding as he tried to make sense of the size—

And it struck him.

This wasn't a platform.

This was a head.

A colossal, ancient head.

His vision widened in horror as he realized what lay beneath his feet.

A creature… no—a beast.

A hybrid of turtle and gorilla, titanic in scale.

Its body stretched nearly a full kilometer from skull to tail, its massive shell so vast and domed that it could have shielded an entire city.

And now…

It was empty.

No soul. No life. No consciousness.

Only flesh and blood remained within.

It had been hollowed out.

Destroyed.

And judging by the scene—by the undisturbed shell, by the singular crater of impact on its face—

It had been killed in one strike.

One blow.

One punch.