Lord of the Truth

"...Open the message."

In front of Robin, a dialogue window shimmered into existence, glowing faintly with bluish light. From within it emerged the calm, white-haired face of Lord Hedric. His expression, as ever, was composed—collected to the point of being unreadable. A moment later, his voice followed:

("Ah, so Lord Robin Burton has finally decided to grace me with a reply. That's quite the honor. Honestly, you took so long I was starting to believe you had chosen to ignore me forever. Regardless, there's no need for any defensive attitude—I'm not demanding the Planetary Displacement Gear right now. I simply asked to reopen the conversation regarding the agreement, and that request remains unchanged.")

With that, the holographic image of Hedric disappeared as smoothly as it had appeared—flickering out of sight without further elaboration.

"...Is that it?!" Robin blinked, frowning slightly, glancing toward the fairy hovering nearby.

Hedric's message had certainly carried a degree of sarcasm, but beyond that, there was no venom, no menace—no direct threats or harsh implications. If anything, it sounded more like the passive-aggressive complaint of an old friend who had been kept waiting too long.

<Yes, Lord Human, that's the full extent of the message,> the sprite replied with a small nod, her wings fluttering softly.

<It was received seventeen years ago. Since then, Lord Hedric hasn't made any further attempts to contact you.>

Robin remained silent for a few seconds, staring at the now-closed window, his mind processing the message. Eventually, he reached up and scratched the back of his head in mild disbelief. Then, with a sigh, he tapped the record button and leaned in slightly:

("Apologies for the long delay in responding, Lord Hedric. I've been... heavily preoccupied on my end. Then again, judging by the timing of your last message, it seems you were too—your own reply took nearly a full century. In any case, I have no objections to discussing the agreement, although I still don't have a clear understanding of what exactly it entails. Please clarify in your next correspondence.")

Once the message finished recording, Robin muttered under his breath, "I hope he never replies again..." and waved a hand, closing the interface window with a flick of his fingers.

Dealing with figures of Hedric's caliber was exhausting—mentally and emotionally draining. And right now, there were only four entities in the entire sector who knew anything meaningful about Robin's true nature and background: Rinara, Hedric and his mysterious sister, the Cosmic Elder, and lastly, the enigmatic and ever-watching Soul Society.

Rinara, thankfully, could be silenced or intimidated without much difficulty, and she was currently far too occupied to pose any real threat—her empire was disintegrating from the inside.

The Cosmic Elder had probably lost interest by now. His fascination with Robin had seemed focused solely on taking him as a disciple. Once that possibility vanished, so too had his attention.

That left only Hedric, Helen... and the Soul Society itself.

And the truth was—Robin was in no position to deal with any of them properly. All he could do at this point... was hope.

Hope that the brutal wars brewing across the stars would eventually wear down Hedric and Helen enough that they would simply forget he ever mattered.

Hope that he was insignificant enough in the grand scheme of things that the Soul Society wouldn't find it worth their time to target or monitor him.

"Tch. What a mood-killer."

Robin cracked his neck from side to side, visibly irritated, trying to dispel the lingering tension. Then, steeling himself, he turned his attention to the rest of the messages he had ignored for decades—messages from various Lords and dignitaries that the fairy had urged him to finally respond to.

"Hmm... an official invitation to join a prestigious stellar academy? No thanks."

He opened the first message, scanned it briefly, and tapped out a courteous but firm response—polite rejection was the key.

"What else is there...? An invitation to attend a high-level research summit? Let's see... Wait, this already happened fifteen years ago? Hah—not like I would've gone anyway!"

Just like before, Robin composed another diplomatic reply, explaining the delay and expressing belated gratitude.

Over half of the messages were of this type—half-hearted invitations, casual attempts at engagement, weak recruitment feelers. No real effort to persuade him, no true stakes. Just political soft touches designed to carve their factions' names into Robin's memory. A reputation game, little more.

"Hmm? What's this? The son of the Curse Behemoth, Lord Damer, offering discounted Soul and Body Curses?"

Robin tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. He rested his chin in one palm, contemplating the possibilities.

"Soul Curses... now those I might actually find a use for."

He spoke aloud to himself.

"With soul-loaning abilities, I could distribute them among the top-ranking officers in my empire. They could store them as contingency weapons for critical moments. That's exactly how we deployed the Eternal Stillness Curse on Jabba—it worked brilliantly."

Then his expression shifted, and he raised a skeptical brow.

"But Body Curses...? How does one even sell those safely?"

The fairy made a graceful full circle around him, her wings glimmering softly in the ambient light.

<Body curses are incredibly rare in trade, Lord Human. When they do surface, they usually appear in the form of talismans—objects that carry the curse sealed within them. At the right moment, the user breaks the talisman, triggering the curse to activate and bind itself to the target, obeying their intent. Depending on the curse's design, it can drain an enemy's energy rapidly, cause intense muscle fatigue, or even induce shortness of breath. In high-level battles, where a single second can change the outcome, body curses are invaluable tools of disruption.>

"Oh? That actually sounds extremely useful..." Robin's eyes lit up slightly, and he smiled with intrigue. Without hesitation, he began recording a response:

("Lord Damer, please accept my apologies for the delayed reply. I've been caught up in quite a few matters, as I imagine you have as well. It would be an honor to accept your generous offer. I am interested in purchasing any quantity of body and soul curses you're able to provide, as well as any other enchantments or cursed constructs you think might be of use. Just prepare the items and send them through the Soul Society as usual. As for the payment—I'm flexible. I can pay in energy Pearls, or through any method you consider appropriate. I sincerely look forward to this collaboration; let's build something worthwhile.")

After finishing the recording, Robin leaned back and sighed, visibly more relaxed. He had already given the Shadow Swords his unique code within the Soul Society and had filed the necessary permissions—any item or material purchased under his name was to be routed directly to Planet Zaron.

Which meant anything Lord Damer sent would arrive securely and swiftly, falling right into the Shadow Swords' hands without Robin having to be directly involved.

"Next up… hmm... a marriage proposal from the great-granddaughter of Lord Amalek?" Robin raised an eyebrow and scoffed lightly. "Tsk. The old man really has gone mad." He chuckled and immediately drafted a short, respectful rejection.

He moved on quickly, scrolling through the remaining messages until one caught his attention.

"What do we have here…" Robin tilted his head slightly, his expression changing as he listened to the voice message from Orion, the firstborn son of Kailis, the Behemoth of Purity.

"A wedding invitation for his sister? Hmmm, that far? The event's still ages away, and he's extending invites now? Well, not that I would've accepted, anyway. Hehe."

<You're underestimating the significance of this, Lord Human,> the fairy interjected gently but firmly.

<She is not just another sibling of Orion—she is the sister. The one many within Mid-Sector 101 believe may one day rival Orion's status, should she fully awaken her potential. Her beauty, charm, and raw talent have made her a symbol of grace across multiple empires. Her strength is formidable, and her upcoming marriage is predicted to be one of the most grandiose events in recent memory. It's expected to be attended by The Behemoth, Kailis himself... and perhaps even another Behemoth. The very presence of such beings will turn this wedding into a galactic focal point.>

The fairy's tone lowered slightly, becoming conspiratorial.

<And many believe this is Orion's attempt to remove her from the sector quietly—an elegant exit strategy that won't harm his reputation.>

"Hmm?" Robin scratched his head thoughtfully, his brow furrowed. The mention of Behemoth attendance gave him pause. He glanced again at the wedding date, then sat up straighter and began recording another message:

("Lord Orion, I appreciate the invitation and the rare honor it represents. I must admit, I cannot foresee where the tides of fate will carry me before the appointed day. Therefore, I cannot promise my presence with certainty. That said, I will do my best—and congratulations in advance on what is sure to be a momentous occasion.")

Once the message was complete, Robin let out a long exhale and stretched his arms out wide, rolling his shoulders.

"Alright, that's all of them sorted. Finally. Now I can get back to gathering a few billion Pearls—heh, productivity always feels better after tying up loose ends."

Pop!

At that exact moment, a new urgent dialogue window burst into existence right in front of him. The air seemed to tighten, and Robin's eyes immediately snapped to the glowing box, his smile vanishing in an instant.

Displayed in bold text were words he hadn't expected to see again so soon:

/Lord Hedric is online and requesting a meeting. Do you accept?/