Lord of the Truth

"What in the world is all this? Has the Nine Paths Planetary Empire took all the action in the sector to themselves?!"

Robin jumped to his feet, eyes darting from one floating dialog box to the next as his surroundings were overwhelmed by a chaotic cascade of information windows.

He took several hurried steps backward, as if trying to escape the flood of notifications pressing in from every direction.

"Hide it all! Hide this madness! It's giving me a splitting headache!"

<As you wish!>

The fairy clapped her hands lightly, her wings fluttering with a soft magical pulse. In a moment, all the windows vanished, and peace returned.

The artificial sky above shimmered gently once again, and the familiar scenery in front of Robin reappeared as if nothing had happened.

"…What even was that?" Robin muttered, rubbing his temple.

"All of those were news reports… about the Empire of the? All of that chaos happened just over the last five years?!"

He felt a chill crawl up his spine as realization settled in.

"Is the sky literally collapsing on their heads over there, or what?!"

<Your phrasing isn't too far from the truth, Lord Human,>

the fairy replied gently, floating closer before landing gracefully on Robin's shoulder.

<If you'll allow me, I can walk you through everything that happened—summarized, of course. No need to read through every last document.>

"Please do," Robin waved his hand again, his tone half-irritated, half-weary.

"But be concise. I don't need a deep dive into political marriages or the naming ceremony of some elder's grandson.

If the reports are full of useless ceremonies and nobles trying to outshine each other, don't even bother."

<Understood. And don't worry—all those reports are important and relatively recent, from the last two years at most.

That's because everything started going off the rails for the Empire of the Nine Paths exactly two years ago.>

The fairy paused slightly, adjusting her posture before continuing.

<Without any warning or context, the Empire issued a bold, formal declaration—a complete public disavowal of the so-called Human Support Forces that had captivated attention sector-wide.

They outright claimed that these human rebel forces, previously thought to be under their banner, had nothing to do with them.

Not only that—they specifically named 13 planets that had fallen under human rebel control, and officially announced that they were severing all ties with them, stating that those worlds no longer held any affiliation with the Empire.>

"….."

Robin's expression slowly twisted into a scowl.

His jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed. His anger was no longer subtle—it was written across every line of his face.

Despite everything… despite the arrogance, the political maneuvering, and the suffocating restrictions they had tried to impose—he had given them one final chance.

He let them rent his name. He allowed it not out of weakness, but as an acknowledgment of what they had done for him—opening the path into the Middle Belt.

And also because she, Renara, had seen too much on the day of his coronation.

But clearly… she didn't value that gesture.

Perhaps she saw it as submission? A sign of fragility?

What did she hope to accomplish with such a move?

She'd just thrown away everything—cutting ties with someone destined to become one of the greatest Truth Chosen in history.

Did she think he would come crawling back? That he'd kneel at her feet and beg for protection again?

Was she planning to demand even more from him if he did?

None of it made sense.

She had tested his pride and his resolve more than once. She should've known better.

She knew exactly what he and his army were capable of.

"…What happened after that?" Robin asked coldly, his brows drawing into a tight line.

<On the very same day the statement was released, a dozen nearby empires dispatched scout fleets to survey those 13 planets.

The goal was obvious—reconnaissance, maybe even early preparations for invasion.

But every single fleet was destroyed without exception—in a brutal, undeniably hostile response.>

<No one from the so-called Black-Gold Human Army came forward to clarify the situation.

They didn't issue a single statement to any major news network about the alleged rebellion.

Instead, those 13 planets went completely silent.

So silent, in fact, that they even stopped their prior attacks on the Iron Boar Empire's core planet.>

<...Then, exactly three months after that absolute silence began, an announcement rocked the region.

From within those very 13 planets, a new force had emerged—one calling itself the Cradle Empire.

They even held a small but official coronation ceremony.

It was attended by a limited number of news agencies and envoys from nearby empires, for the sole purpose of introducing their newly crowned Planetary Emperor.>

<This emperor appeared on the throne fully cloaked—his face hidden by a deep hood, his features entirely concealed.

No one could confirm his race, his origin, or even his expression.

But according to everyone present at the event, there was no mistaking it:

the emperor radiated the presence of a High-Level Nexus State.>

"A High-Level Nexus State?"

Robin's eyes went wide with genuine shock—then he laughed.

He laughed harder than he had in days.

"Ahhh! That kid's got some real fire in him! Hahahaha! He pulled it off!"

<The news spread like wildfire. It caused near-panic in the surrounding empires.

A High-Level Nexus State is not someone you ignore.

They usually govern hundreds of planets—500 or more is common.

And from the preparations and resources seen during the coronation, it's clear this emperor isn't just sitting on his throne.

He's preparing for expansion—likely rapid, and very real.>

<When reporters flooded the event with questions, the man who stepped forward wasn't the emperor—it was Marshal Caesar, Commander of the Human Armies.

He calmly explained that the emperor prefers to remain silent.

That his official title is The Silent One.>

<Marshal Caesar then made a declaration:

This new empire was forged with one purpose—conquest.

But they would not conquer those who came in peace.

Instead, Caesar openly invited alliances, offering safety and stability to any who approached with respect.

And with that, he dismissed everyone, claiming that "His Majesty Planetary Emperor the Silent One is bored… and wishes to sleep.">

<The presence of the Black-Gold Human Army was already bizarre, overwhelming, and practically unstoppable.

Now, they had a High-Level Nexus State leading them from the shadows—someone who had seemingly emerged from nowhere.

Naturally, the entire mid-sector 100 was thrown into confusion.

Everyone began asking the same questions: Who are these people? Where did they come from? What is their true goal?>

"Heh… Oh, I'm sure their intentions are nothing but pure goodness," Robin said with a smirk, his voice laced with sarcasm and amusement.

For the longest time, his greatest dilemma had been a simple one:

Who would wear the crown?

You couldn't place a World Cataclysm on the throne—they'd bring ruin.

A rented Nexus State? Too weak. Too temporary.

Caesar? Ineligible.

Robin himself? Impossible. His ascension would bring nothing but destruction.

Every option was blocked.

But now… Renara had gambled on the same unsolvable problem—and lost.

And as for Theo?

Theo had finally found someone… he could truly rely on.

"This coronation took place a year and nine months ago, you say?" Robin asked, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and calculated interest.

He tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to piece together the implications.

"So then… what happened next?"

<The gates of hell burst open upon all, Lord Human.>

The fairy's tone turned grim, her tiny eyes narrowing with weighty seriousness.

<The Iron Boar Empire, having been humiliated by the loss of thirteen of their own planets to an unexpected and forceful uprising, saw their moment.

Their greatest enemy—who had taken those planets from under their grip—was now seemingly isolated, vulnerable, no longer sheltered under the influence of the Empire of the Nine Paths.>

<Without hesitation, they began forming a broad and dangerous alliance. Their goal? To strike down the Cradle Empire before it could root itself deeper or grow beyond control.

And their rallying call was heard.

Several planetary empires from the surrounding sectors responded eagerly to the call for blood—most notably those who held a grudge against the Empire of the Nine Paths.

Ironically, two of these empires had been previously held back by the human forces—those very same humans who now led the Cradle.

But in a twist of fate, they now ignored the Nine Paths entirely, focusing their wrath and might on this new rising threat.>

<The result? A Five-Empire Coalition—five massive, interstellar, multi-planetary powers—all directing their strength, fleets, and fury toward the newly formed Cradle Empire.>

<Meanwhile, the Empire of the Nine Paths faced its own unraveling.

The loss of 13 planets in one sweeping stroke, all under the pretext of rebellion, was more than symbolic. It was a public crack in their long-standing image of strength and dominance.

And predators were watching.

The Twilight Spectrum Centenary Empire, a long-dormant but dangerous rival, launched a coordinated assault.

And as if smelling fresh blood, seven other empires descended upon them from different directions—hungry, ambitious, merciless.>

<They seized three planets almost immediately, exploiting the Nine Paths' confusion and internal chaos.

Now, the Nine Paths are embroiled in desperate battles across eight more contested worlds,>

"At this point…" Robin muttered, his tone cool and detached,

"I no longer care what becomes of the Empire of the Nine Paths.

Whether they burn to the ground or bask in undeserved glory—it's of no importance to me anymore."

He waved his hand twice, as though literally brushing the thought away.

"What matters… is what happened to the Cradle Empire after the Five-Empire Coalition began their war."

<Strangely, miraculously—they endured.>

The fairy's tone shifted, a trace of awe in her voice.

<They didn't expand, true. They didn't conquer new territory. But neither did they fall back.

Against five fully armed, planet-ruling empires… they held their ground.

They fought with defiant resilience, matching their enemies blow for blow on every battlefield.

And they did it alone—without allies, without external support, without the backing of ancient orders or galactic councils.>

<Their ability to survive such an onslaught drew the attention of many… but especially of those watching from the shadows.>

<Several hidden human factions, long thought lost or in hiding, began quietly reaching out to the Cradle Empire.

One by one, they emerged from obscurity.

The first to officially join them was the ancient Maizer Family—a noble lineage known for its secret arts and military tradition.

Soon after, they were joined by another powerhouse: the Nightborne Clan, a human house with deep roots and vast resources.>

"...."

Robin nodded several times, slowly, his expression one of deep satisfaction.

A small smile played at the corners of his lips—quiet, yet powerful.

After centuries of toil, exile, betrayal, and war…

he had finally created a foundation that could last.

A foundation strong enough to stand anywhere—in any sector, under any sun.

He scratched the back of his head and turned, eyes scanning the floating interface of the truth chamber's request panel once more.

"Looks like I'll be needing a lot more pearls soon…" he mumbled with a smirk.

<Shall we begin the next set of tasks?>

The fairy fluttered into the air, her wings glowing as she landed on his shoulder briefly—her voice filled with enthusiasm.

"…No. Not yet," Robin sighed, folding his arms.

"I need to improve myself as well.

I can't just pour effort into others and forget my own power. I must grow stronger."

He glanced at the fairy again, his expression firm.

"Just let anyone who submits a task know this:

the higher they price it,

the more likely it is that Lord Human himself will take notice—

and finish it personally."

<Understood!>

The fairy gave a crisp, mock-serious salute, her eyes glimmering like twin stars.

"Good." Robin nodded once, then waved his hand, dismissing the screen.

"Now… let's go and see what the second book has to say."

Shhhhhh~