Lord of the Truth

"…"

Robin's sarcastic, smug expression abruptly shifted into something far more serious. He stared at Hedrick for a long moment, trying to process the sheer weight of the situation he had just been thrust into.

"…No one else knows about what you've just told me?"

"No one," Hedrick replied without hesitation, his voice quiet but unwavering. He nodded once, slowly, as if sealing the truth in stone.

Robin's heartbeat thudded against his chest.

"What exactly is going on here? Why are you telling me your secrets, we don't even know each other! Am I supposed to feel… honored now? So moved that I just hand over the artifact to you out of sheer sentiment?"

"Of course not," Hedrick said, eyes fixed on the brilliant horizon. A cool breeze swept over them, stirring the strands of his long silver hair.

"Any proper partnership—any alliance worth building—is built on transparency. That's why I decided to lay all my cards on the table. From the beginning. No tricks. No manipulation."

"Partnership?" Robin's brows furrowed even more deeply now.

There was something weaving itself around him—an invisible net he hadn't noticed until now.

He could feel it tightening.

"You're saying… we're partners now?"

"Yes," Hedrick said, allowing a half-smile to creep across his face.

"I've thought about this long and hard. We're stronger together than apart.

And I believe… we need each other to reach the places we truly want to go.

So I made the first move."

He tilted his head. "Unless, of course… you don't think working with me could bring you any benefit?"

"…" Robin looked at him from the side, his gaze sharp and unwavering.

"I don't need a partner," he said flatly, with conviction.

"That's a rather dramatic declaration," Hedrick replied with a light chuckle, shaking his head slowly.

"I've lived through wars, betrayals, broken empires… and even I've never said something like that. Everyone needs allies. Even the strongest.

The real question isn't if you need someone.

It's: who can you afford to trust?"

"And you think you're that person? Just because you shared some tragic story from your past? Some tale about how you wanted to punch your dad?" Robin arched a brow with clear disbelief.

"…"

For a moment, Hedrick said nothing.

Then he turned his gaze fully to Robin—cold, unblinking, focused like a blade.

The weight of it pressed down, and Robin's chest tightened. A shiver passed through his spine.

Then, suddenly, Hedrick smiled.

"Maybe one day, we'll get used to each other's sense of humor.

But until that day comes… let's maintain a level of mutual respect."

His eyes drifted back to the sky above them, where streaks of burning gold and red painted the late afternoon.

"And just to be clear… I don't want to fight that man.

I want to replace him."

Robin blinked, caught off guard.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, more serious now.

"To become a Behemoth," Hedrick began slowly, each word chosen carefully, "you must be the sole, undisputed master of a Major & Fundamental law.

And, of course, you must possess a Galaxy Seed. Only then are you eligible to unify a sector—drawing every planet of value into your grasp, anchoring them with your terms."

Robin raised an eyebrow. This was familiar territory, yet something about the way Hedrick said it carried a weight beyond formality.

"Now here's the problem," Hedrick continued. "Many children of Behemoths are born with the potential to manipulate those same laws.

Some are prodigies—blessed with talent and surrounded by wealth and resources—and they climb higher than anyone expected.

Some even reach the seventh stage of mastery in that very same major fundamental law."

He paused, letting the implication settle.

"And that's where things… get ugly."

Robin frowned. The logic was obvious.

If a child reached the same level as their parent in that law, the parent's exclusivity—what made them a Behemoth—would be compromised.

They'd still be powerful… but they'd lose their edge, their unmatched aura.

And people at that level don't tolerate being equalized.

"So what happens?" Hedrick continued.

"They force the children to branch off. To select a minor law within the same path. They train and specialize in it until they become Monarchs or Guardians."

"But if one of them… just dares to pursue the major law…"

He looked directly at Robin again.

"Then there are cases—more than just a few—where the parent kills their child.

It's not rare.

Even if the child already holds a title like 'Monarch,' they can still be executed or imprisoned simply for touching what doesn't belong to them."

Robin's mind reeled.

"In the Destra family," Hedrick said, a faint, cold smile on his lips, "we all learned the major law of the Destruction Path during our youth.

But we were told—clearly—that we had to choose a minor law for mastery.

Because if any of us reached the seventh stage… we'd never be allowed to touch the original again."

Then, finally, Hedrick's expression darkened slightly. A thrill danced in his voice.

"But that main law…

It's been calling to me.

It calls louder every year.

And my hands itch to wield it openly—"

"…You're already a Monarch?"

Robin barely stopped himself from audibly gulping.

The leap from his current realm to the title of Monarch was nothing short of monumental. That kind of power placed you among the rulers of realms, entities that could bend reality itself under the weight of their words.

"For now," Hedrick tilted his head ever so slightly, a calm yet knowing smile curling at the corner of his lips. Then he let out a soft laugh, as though the weight of his own path amused him.

"If I succeed in transporting the Galactic Seed to Mid Sector 100…

If I seize control of it, and wield the Major Law of Destruction in the open for all to see…

Then I'll either ascend and claim the title of The Behemoth of Destruction—

Or I'll perish trying to reach it."

So that was the revenge he meant...

He plans to challenge his own father for the title of The Behemoth of Destruction!?

Robin's pupils trembled; his eyes shot wide open in silent awe. The sheer audacity… it was unimaginable.

"…And you're seriously asking me to partner with you in something like that?" Robin's voice trembled as much as his eyes, as if questioning the very sanity of the idea.

"I think you're an exceptionally promising candidate," Hedrick replied with cool confidence.

"A Truth Chosen powerful enough to design and craft The Breaths of Ages…

An Emperor capable of establishing not just one, but multiple empires—as you yourself said.

And those empires, as fate would have it, are located in the very sector I plan to invade and reshape."

He paused, leaning forward slightly.

"Also… I believe I can offer you real, tangible help. More than just words. Help with your missions."

"Missions?" Robin arched an eyebrow, a strange, almost mocking smile forming on his face.

"You mean my dreams? My ambitions? What exactly do you think you know about me that gives you the nerve to claim you can help?"

"No, not your ambitions," Hedrick said, voice low and steady.

"I meant what I said—your missions."

He turned fully toward Robin now, his expression more serious than ever.

"The missions you received from the one behind that shard you carry."

Then a faint, unsettling smile curled on his lips.

"I don't know what exact task he burdened you with, no… but I do know it's no simple errand.

In fact, I imagine it's just as nightmarishly difficult as my own goal.

And if you want to avoid the fate of all his previous candidates—their deaths, their failures, their erasure from the world—

Then surely a little support wouldn't hurt… would it?"

"…!!"

Robin shot to his feet without a second thought.

His stance shifted completely—he was no longer seated across a conversation partner, but confronting a potential threat.

Shock and an unmistakable hint of aggression blazed in his eyes.

"There's no need to get so worked up," Hedrick said, raising both hands slightly in peace. His smile, as strange as it was, remained innocent.

"I'm not trying to threaten you.

I'm trying to build something with you—

A partnership."

"…How do you even know about that?" Robin asked, his voice quieter now, but sharp as a blade.

He didn't clarify what "that" was—he didn't need to.

If Hedrick truly knew what he was talking about, he'd answer correctly.

"I don't think he was trying to hide his presence all that well, to be honest," Hedrick said with a smirk.

"Not when he casually waved his hand and sent my sister away to her chambers like a misbehaving child.

Not when he let the atmosphere shift with his presence like gravity itself had tilted.

And besides—there were other signs. Subtle ones.

Like, oh I don't know... your shining golden eyes, for instance."

He waved again, almost mockingly. "Hard to miss, really."

"Tch." Robin looked away with a mix of annoyance and reluctant acknowledgment.

"First the Cosmic Elder, now you... That guy's more famous than I expected.

Who in their right mind puts golden beacons on their supposed secret candidates just to make them easier to track? That's... that's just stupid!"

"The Cosmic Elder?!"

The name alone hit Hedrick like a hammer to the chest.

He visibly stiffened for a heartbeat.

"Yeah, I ran into him," Robin said with a nonchalant wave, pretending it was no big deal.

"He's quite the character. Impressive, mysterious, and kind of hilarious.

We're on pretty good terms now, actually. He's a friend."