Lord of the Truth

"…Ah, you said I had mail?" Robin snapped his fingers, his tone casual but curious. "Besides the mountain of lordly messages I've yet to respond to, is there anything new or unexpected worth checking?"

<Indeed, there are several other messages,> the fairy responded, her voice calm and melodic. <The oldest one came from the account Renara-973, the same lady you last replied to during your previous correspondence.> She waved gently, and a translucent dialogue box opened in front of Robin, its contents ready to display.

But whoosh—with a sharp, dismissive flick of his hand, Robin closed the box before even reading a word. "I have no interest in hearing what she has to say," he muttered, his expression unreadable. "What else do we have?"

Ever since the formal rise of the Cradle Empire was announced, the separation from the Nine Paths Empire had become final and irreversible. That once allied empire had been reduced to just another power among the hundreds scattered throughout Mid-Sector 100. Robin owed them absolutely nothing. On the contrary, if anyone dared to calculate the true value of the techniques, inventions, trade goods, and enchanted weaponry they had gained through him at less than half cost, it would become glaringly obvious—they owed him hundreds of millions of energy pearls.

The only thing that still gave them a slight edge was the classified knowledge they held about him. But then again... would they really dare speak after witnessing the vision the All-Seeing god had shown? That kind of truth was often enough to silence even the most reckless.

<Very well then,> the fairy replied without pause. <You also received a message from Sword-Theo-2.>

"Oh!" Robin's eyes lit up, a broad grin spreading across his face. He eagerly pressed play:

("Father, I bring excellent news! First, allow me to congratulate you. Three members of the Maizer bloodline have officially broken through and become World Cataclysms. We've already begun the process of securing reliable anchors for the rest. Additionally, thanks to the empire-wide talent cultivation policies we launched centuries ago, we've discovered yet another World Cataclysm emerging among our native citizens on one of the planets of mid-sector 100, one that can establish his own family. And with the momentum we're building, we expect even more breakthroughs soon.")

"Ha ha!" Robin clapped his hands together in genuine joy. To him, reliance on slaves had always been a temporary measure—a crutch, not a foundation. Real empires were built on the strength and brilliance of their own people. And now, at long last, that vision was becoming a reality.

Theo continued, ("The second piece of good news is something you'll need to investigate for yourself to get the full picture. I need you to search for recent developments regarding the so-called Grave Empire. Once you're caught up, please decide where you want us to begin establish the Galactic Seed. The number of newly recognized planets in the young belt is rising rapidly, and the Demons have recently launched a full-scale war against a centennial empire in the young sector 100. We're anticipating another influx of planets soon. If we want to claim them all, we must start preparing immediately.")

The message came to a natural end and closed on its own, vanishing like mist.

"…The Grave Empire?" Robin raised an eyebrow and turned to face the fairy. "You know what to do. Begin gathering intel."

Robin didn't dwell much on the details of the Demon's conflict with the centennial empire. This wasn't the first time the tri-armies had clashed with the local powers of the young belt. Every one of those three had been granted sweeping licenses, permitting them to conquer without even needing to care about the Overlords of those realms.

<Understood, my Lord. Here is a summarized intelligence report.> The fairy twirled once, shimmering gently as a glowing scroll materialized in the air.

"…" Robin narrowed his eyes slightly as he leaned forward and began reading the data.

It appeared that nearly a century and a half ago, there had been an empire known as Ancestral Blood. At some point during their rise, they had made the grave mistake of provoking the Black Wasps by capturing and publicly humiliating one of their kin. The retaliation had been swift and merciless. The Black Wasps decimated the foundations of that empire across all 17 of its planets, pillaging everything they could get their hands on.

Even more shockingly, all of the empire's World Cataclysms vanished in the aftermath. Some were said to have been killed outright; others rumored to have been captured and enslaved. As for the Emperor, he had reportedly been seen on dozens of planets, chasing the Black Wasps in an unrelenting frenzy, eyes wild with obsession and madness.

...As for the planets that once belonged to the fallen empire, they soon transformed into an immense and chaotic warzone. Each of those worlds was rich with resources, densely inhabited, and brimming with natural and technological wealth. They were the kind of planets any great empire would covet—ideal for integration into a major power's domain. What made them even more valuable was the minimal effort required to restore or maintain them, thanks to the intact cities and well-established infrastructure already present on their surfaces.

Over the course of a few decades, six different powers managed to take control of ten of these planets. The remaining seven became hotly contested, with no clear victor and constant shifts in occupation and influence... until one day, a peculiar and imposing force appeared out of nowhere: a strange blue army. This army was unlike any seen before—composed of dozens of different species, including the rare Trent and Golem races, alongside hybrid races that did not seem to belong to any known empire or faction.

"Now that's got to be my boy Aro," Robin chuckled proudly.

...The blue army arrived with overwhelming aerial forces, countless elite units, and multiple individuals identified as World Cataclysms. They struck swiftly and decisively—within less than a year, they had cleansed the first planet they set foot on, driving out nine different competing forces without leaving a trace of resistance behind. Not stopping to rest, they immediately split into several divisions and surged toward the remaining seven embattled worlds.

Although resistance stiffened dramatically—alliances were hastily forged to resist the newcomers, and a significant number of World Calamities were deployed in a desperate attempt to stop them—these measures only served to slow the inevitable. Over the course of 36 grueling years, the blue army overcame every obstacle and fully claimed the remaining of the seven planets.

And they didn't stop there. With no hesitation, they turned their gaze—and their blades—toward the ten worlds that had previously fallen under other empires' control.

There were rumors, still unconfirmed, suggesting the blue army had access to formidable intelligence-gathering capabilities. Evidence pointed to this when all ten of the former Blood of Ancients Empire's occupied planets were suddenly rocked by massive, coordinated internal rebellions—an uncanny coincidence that paved the way for further conquest.

Seizing this opportunity and leveraging their undeniable momentum—as well as the simple truth that none of the new rulers had fully stabilized their control—the blue army pressed forward. They reclaimed those ten worlds more efficiently than even their initial seven. It only took them another twenty years to bring all of them back under their banner.

Seventeen planets in just fifty-six years—an astonishing number that left that entire galaxy in disbelief. The identity of these newcomers became the hottest topic of discussion in both military and political circles across the sector. And the surprise turned into shock when their official representative—Marshal Aro, General of the Infantry, Cavalry, and Aerial Fleet—stepped forward to announce an unexpected coronation ceremony.

During that event, a mysterious figure draped in wide, flowing robes and a hood appeared, seated atop a regal throne. They exuded the unmistakable aura of someone in a high-level Nexus State.

That day marked the birth of the Empire of the Grave—a multi-planetary force that had emerged from the ashes of a fallen power. According to their declared borders, the empire was now locked in active conflict against all the forces that they stolen those seventeen planets from. The era of rapid expansion was over; they had shifted to a strategic defensive position. But despite that, they remained united and unyielding.

The coronation hit like a thunderclap across every rival empire operating in that region. In a single moment, what was once considered a fleeting and anonymous threat transformed into a clearly defined and ever-growing force. From that point onward, a new war ignited—one that quickly drew the attention of the entire Mid-Sector 99.

"The Cradle in Mid-Sector 100… and now the Grave in Mid-Sector 99. Both are ready." Robin gently stroked his chin as he murmured to himself, a satisfied smile forming on his face. News of expanding empires always had a way of lifting the spirit.