Lord of the Truth

About an hour later—

"Here."

Robin tossed the final metal tablet toward the last of the seven students. He stretched his neck with a tired crack, his expression showing the wear of the long session.

"Now… you've all had your chance. The rest is entirely in your hands."

His voice carried a weight it didn't have before — something final, something absolute.

"My recommendation? Leave these grounds. Leave the comfort of this Academy.

Go somewhere that will hurt.

Someplace that will test what you've learned — not in theory, but in blood.

Find a place with beasts, pirates… or war.

And do not join another Student War for at least fifty years. Not a day earlier. Is that clear?"

"Understood. Thank you, Professor Robin!!"

All seven stood at once, and without intending to… they lowered their heads.

They didn't even realize what they'd done until the moment had passed — until they were straightening their backs again.

And even then, some of them felt a strange heat rise in their cheeks as they stepped toward the door.

It wasn't shame.

It was reverence.

They had just bowed to a man who had, without fanfare or reward, given them the keys to reshape their futures.

And none of them — none — could have imagined that years from now… decades, even…

They would all beg for the chance to return to this day.

Not to simply bow —

…but to kneel at his feet and beg for another word. Another chance to sit by his side longer.

At that very moment, Shaddad stepped out from one of the side rooms, wiping his hands with a towel and beaming with pride.

"Alright boys and girls, time to leave — your professor's bath is ready!"

"For the love of— don't say it like that!!"

Robin snapped with a mix of pain and exasperation, his cheeks twitching.

But Shaddad didn't seem fazed at all. He looked around the now-empty hall.

"Hmm? Where are they? Did you chase them off again?"

Robin smirked.

"More or less. They won't show their faces again for half a century at least — so you can finally pack up your things and get out of my apartment. No more excuses."

"What, is it my fault I've been trying to protect the place from bugs and dust?!"

Shaddad's voice rose in mock indignation — though this time, there was no real anger behind it.

If anything… he sounded embarrassed.

Robin chuckled deeply, the sound echoing off the walls, and rose to his feet.

He headed toward the bath chamber with a casual flick of his robe.

"Come on. I've got a few things to ask you about."

"Hmm? What kind of things?"

Shaddad followed, raising an eyebrow with curiosity as Robin stepped into the room.

Robin said nothing. He just began to undress, piece by piece — removing his blood-stained outer robes, folding them neatly, then setting them aside.

His back, still marred from earlier processes, gleamed under the soft light.

"Let's call it... general information," he finally said.

"And maybe… a personal favor after that."

The moment Robin's foot touched the surface of the bath, everything changed.

The compounds inside — highly reactive alchemical agents designed to invade and reshape the body on a cellular level — surged to life like a swarm of living acid.

They attacked him.

This was not a soak for comfort.

It was war.

Like the previous baths, this one would systematically break down specific parts of his body — bones, tendons, tissues — and reconstruct them, one fiber at a time, into something better. Something armored. Something terrifying.

How deep the chemicals would dig this time…

What parts of his body would be torn down and rebuilt…

That was a question Robin would only be able to answer when it was over.

"General information and a personal favor, huh?"

Shaddad walked forward and stopped just behind the tub.

Without hesitation, he placed both hands on Robin's bare back.

A swirling field of chaotic energy began to gather across his palms — not wild, but purposeful.

This was a signature of his: an esoteric blend of Spirit Manipulation and Law Guidance.

"Ask what you want. The favor is already considered done."

"Mmmmgh—!!"

Robin clenched his jaw, biting back a cry as the pain intensified.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the tub. His breathing grew heavy.

But still — he pushed forward.

He had a question.

"I want to ask you… about the Valley of Specters."

Shaddad froze. The name hit him like a thunderbolt.

"The Valley of Specters?!"

His expression twisted — a rare mix of fear and recognition.

"Where in the hell did you hear that name?"

"From that guy… Barok. He mentioned it to the… nnggh… the Headmistress."

Robin's eyes were clenched shut.

His voice strained. His jaw tightened.

"I need a place. A place to train my soul force for an extended time…

And that name… it just popped into my head.

It sounded right. Doesn't it?"

"Sounding right has nothing to do with it."

Shaddad's brows furrowed sharply. His hands paused on Robin's back.

"This is the name of a planet Ruled by the Specter Race."

"The Specter Race…?"

Robin's eyes fluttered open.

For a brief, fleeting moment — he forgot the pain.

All he knew about specters that they were initial souls once.

That they'd been warped by eons of exposure to dark energy.

That they had become something… less than human.

Something twisted. Evil.

"Specters… they are the only intelligent beings in all existence that lack a physical form."

Shaddad's tone was somber, his gaze distant — as if recalling something buried deep in the past.

"Each one of them… was once a living creature. A man, a woman, a beast. Just like you. Just like me.

But after death — after their souls scattered from their bodies — something went wrong.

Their core memories… were corrupted, mostly erased.

What remained was no longer a person… but a thing cloaked in madness and drowning in negative energy."

His voice dropped lower, heavier.

"If a specter retains even a fragment of its memory, it may become something worse — a cursed specter, bound to its killer, stalking them for eternity.

But most are not so 'lucky'. They become wanderers.

Lost souls, drifting endlessly across the land of their death… feeding on the souls of the living."

Robin's eyes narrowed, his voice almost a whisper.

"Feeding on… the souls?"

Shidad nodded, the weight of truth sinking into his features.

"Yes. You see, this universe follows a law.

Energy cannot be created. It cannot be destroyed.

It only changes shape.

Specters, even though they lack flesh, still move, still think, still act… and all of that requires power. Energy."

He raised his hand, clenched it into a trembling fist.

"So they take it from us. From the living.

They devour the soul domains of living beings."

There was a flicker in his eyes. A shadow of something much darker.

"If a specter sees you… it will come for you.

If you summon soul creatures to protect you — it will consume them.

If you try to flee — it will chase you beyond the horizon, across continents if it must.

Specters are relentless. They don't stop. They don't forget.

And worst of all… because they lack flesh and form… there's almost nothing that can hurt them."

Robin's voice was quiet, but firm.

"Sounds like… you've dealt with them before."

Shaddad's composure cracked. His eyes flared.

"Have you ever tried to punch something you can't touch?

Have you ever thrown your full strength into a blow, only for it to pass through your target like mist?

That's what it's like to fight them.

And for warriors like me, who rely on muscle and steel… it's a nightmare."

He exhaled sharply, brushing his hand through his thick, wild hair.

"The only force specters truly fear… is Soul Force.

A soul so powerful that it can sever them from existence itself.

After that, there are some rare Laws — Space, Vibration, certain types of Flame — that can interact with their plane of reality.

Laws that don't rely on matter… but influence the invisible."

Then, his tone dropped to a low growl.

"But that's all theory. Specters are… terrifying.

The more intelligence they retain… the more dangerous they become.

Even Soul Masters can fall to a single specter.

And don't even dream of surviving on one of their home worlds."

He looked up, his eyes dark.

"Like the Valley of Specters.

A planet where every soul — every single inhabitant — died under mysterious, horrific circumstances… And every one of them came back."

Robin's breath caught. His lips trembled with pain as he spoke.

"…It really is a nightmare.

So why… why would anyone... willingly go to a place like that?"