Lord of the Truth

"...." Robin slowly turned his head to the side, his movement almost exaggerated in its sluggishness. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice calm yet laced with curiosity. Then, a puzzled smile formed on his face as he tilted it slightly. "Apologies—I sometimes struggle with my hearing, especially when I'm not expecting absurdities. Why don't you repeat that request one more time, just to be sure?"

"I won't repeat my words," Hedrick replied, his tone gentle, almost polite, but with a firmness that couldn't be ignored. "You might not have reached the level of a World Cataclysm yet, but I'm confident your hearing is still sharp enough to catch the gist."

"No, no, that wasn't sarcasm. I genuinely think I misheard," Robin insisted, waving his hand in a confused manner as if swatting away nonsense. "Because if I'm not mistaken, it sounded like you were asking me to hand over a fourth-grade planetary displacement gear—permanently?"

"That's correct." Hedrick gave a small but decisive nod.

Robin blinked twice, shook his head, then let out a short, bewildered laugh. "No no, hold on. I don't think you understand what you're asking. Let me rephrase the question to see if we're truly on the same page... Are you talking about that exact gear—the one I bought for 5.6 billion pearls, despite you telling me you barely have two billion to your name? The one that you and I both know I critically need for a very near-future operation? That same gear?"

"The very one." Hedrick nodded again, as calm and unapologetic as ever.

Robin's mouth twitched into something between a smirk and disbelief. "Weren't you planning to transfer your seed only after ascending to the Mid Sector? I could get you one of second stage. Heck, even third if you ask nicely. Seriously, don't you have someone else to pressure and manipulate today? Or am I your designated victim?"

Hedrick merely shook his head with quiet composure. "I already possess five first-grade planetary gears, three of the second grade, and one of the third. But I have a specific purpose in mind—so I need one of the fourth stage or higher, and nothing less."

"..." Robin stared long and hard at the man beside him, studying him with an intensity that made the silence uncomfortable. Finally, he sighed and leaned back a little. "Heh~ Alright then. Why don't you go ahead and start listing your threats?"

This time, the surprise shifted to Hedrick's face. He raised his brows, clearly not expecting the turn. "Pardon me?"

"Let me be clear, so we don't waste any more of each other's precious time," Robin said with cold finality. "I'm not giving it to you. Not now, not ever. Even if you paid me three times its value, it's still a no. End of story."

He narrowed his eyes. "So if you've got a threat to make, spit it out now. Then I'll respond with my own threats—about what I'll do to you if you so much as try to act on yours. After that, we can both walk away and get back to our lives. I actually have important things to deal with at the moment."

"...?" Hedrick blinked, then, for the very first time since Robin laid eyes on him, the man let out a hearty, genuine laugh. "Haha, you're truly an interesting person," he said, clearly amused, tilting his head slightly in Robin's direction. "But are you saying my threats won't have any effect on you? I'm finding that rather difficult to believe."

"Try me." Robin shrugged, entirely unfazed. "I'm not even going to mention the shard I carry in my soul domain. What will you do? Destroy Jura? Nihari? Go ahead. Obliterate them if you must. My children and I are spread across the stars now. Instead of a single empire, I've founded three. No, I haven't reached the World Cataclysm Realm yet—but I have legions of followers and loyal servants. Maybe I'm just a mouse in the eyes of a Nexus Being, but I've bought more than a few of them myself. Maybe I'm a speck of dust compared to a Monarch... but I have one protecting me."

Robin's eyes gleamed with unwavering certainty, the kind that could only come from someone who had clawed his way out of death itself.

"Today... what threat could possibly scare me? The last day I was truly vulnerable was that damned, cursed day. And your sister failed. She couldn't erase me. Now? I'm fuckin' immortal. That chapter has already closed."

This was one of the secret truths behind his strategy—why he had scattered his empires, split his children among the stars. The terror of that day had seared itself into his soul. He had feared above all else that his civilization would be annihilated, that every one of his offspring would be wiped from existence, and nothing would remain of their legacy. But now? Now, that fear was obsolete.

What's the worst that could happen today? That he gets killed?

Let it be so.

His kids, his armies, his people—they would avenge him. Whether in ten hours or ten centuries, someone would rise and burn the stars for his name.

"Haha... Now that's a convincing argument," Hedrick nodded slowly, a note of real respect in his voice. "You're right. A tiger doesn't let himself get cornered in the same spot twice." He smiled faintly. "And I have no intention of doing such a thing."

"...?" Robin raised a single eyebrow, then turned his head slowly back to the side. "What is it now? Are you trying to negotiate a deferred payment plan for the planetary gear or something?"

"Since the choice ultimately rests in your hands," Hedrick replied smoothly, his tone casual yet deliberate, "I figured I should present the full scope of the problem to you first. Then, you—being the wise and elevated figure you are—can tell me how to proceed. What do you say? A Great Truth Chosen like yourself might be the only one capable of seeing a balanced path forward."

He clapped once, softly, with a faint, almost diplomatic smile.

"...." Robin kept his gaze fixed on his host for several long seconds, the silence thick between them. Finally, with a faint nod, he gestured for him to continue.

Anything that could delay a direct conflict—even temporarily—was worth trying. Maybe, just maybe, one of his children would avenge him if he were to fall today, but frankly... it would be far preferable if he didn't die at all.

"Good," Hedrick said with a faint nod, his expression easing a bit. "Let's hope this becomes a meaningful exchange—one that helps both of us walk away with something of value. If we can reach even a partial understanding, I'd consider it a win."

Then, he turned his eyes forward again, staring out over the edge of the balcony at the breathtaking sight before them: streaks of meteors launching upward from the lower atmosphere, piercing through the thick crimson clouds above like cosmic spears, glowing with intensity.

And after a pause, he began to speak again.

"When it comes to how high-ranking figures from the Mid-belt interact with the civilizations in the Young Belt… things aren't nearly as straightforward as most assume. There's no fixed law or universal agreement that restricts our contact with them. The only hard line is this—we're not allowed to annihilate the planets themselves.

Aside from that, it's all gray zones and shifting policies."

"..." Robin narrowed his eyes, confused by the sudden abstract direction of the conversation.

"A great number of planetary kings, emperors, and even rogue elites choose to drain the Young Belt instead of supporting it. The poorer among them take a very direct route—they descend upon a planet, make contact with its people, and convince them that he is a divine, transcendent entity to be worshiped. Then, through manipulation and coercion, they force them to hand over everything—resources, offerings, even people.

But the wealthier and more ambitious ones? They play the long game. They invest. They provide the planet with limited tech, selective guidance, and just enough power to let them build armies and start conquering neighboring planets. It becomes a cycle—the more they conquer, the more they send back to their patron. And thus, the master grows stronger without ever lifting a blade himself. These types are given a specific title: Overlords."

"But that's just one layer of the bigger picture," he continued, his voice steady and measured. "Then you have the Stellar Academies, who wander the Young Belt endlessly, scanning for outbreaks of the Plague. If they find something large enough, they deploy extermination squads without hesitation, wiping the infestation and everything near it.

And then there are the High Lords and the Behemoths—the true monsters of the belt. Those ones don't even bother coming themselves. They send elite scouts, or entire fleets of Stellar Surveyor Ships, hoping to discover something valuable.

It could be anything—a meteor rich in celestial ore, the corpse of an ancient void beast, or even the exposed heart of a long-dead world. Whatever holds value, they claim it."

Hedrick shook his head, his tone hardening slightly.

"For people like us—those who possess a respectable degree of power and influence—that is the safest, most practical path to take. Starting a planetary empire from scratch, watching it grow inch by inch, waiting years for it to mature enough to offer you some scraps of tribute? It's slow, frustrating, and almost never worth the investment.

And if you do decide to back a growing empire, genuinely believing they'll remain loyal and join your faction when they ascend—well, you'll probably end up spending more on them than you'll ever get in return. But if you leave them too weak, and they resort to looting and savagery to survive? That shame, that backlash, falls on you. Your name gets tarnished, your alliances crumble, and your enemies grow bolder."

"..." Robin nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.

He couldn't even remember the exact number anymore—how many fortunes he'd poured into The True Beginning, No, even the Cradle and Grave Empires.

And in return?

Nothing. Whatever profits and loot they won can't come close to what he invested.

Well, he did invest for power and stability, but still... how many can do that?