Lord of the Truth

"...Is this what you call a fair exchange?" Robin raised a single eyebrow, his hands neatly clasped behind his back in a calm yet assertive stance.

"Things between true partners aren't weighed like commodities. It's not about keeping count—one favor just equal for another. When you choose to walk the same path as someone and your fates become intertwined, you support them unconditionally when they need it. No negotiations. No expectations. And when you're the one in need, they return that support in kind, no questions asked. That's the kind of bond that makes a partnership unshakable." Hedrick smiled warmly as he spoke, his tone sincere.

Robin gave a slow shake of his head. "You're neither my partner nor my friend. This is a business discussion, plain and simple. Even partnerships, no matter how deep, must be built on fairness and clarity. If one side keeps giving endlessly while the other only ever receives, then that's not a partnership—it's exploitation."

"Hahaha!" Hedrick tilted his head back and burst into laughter, his voice echoing through the room. "Are you seriously saying that I—me— The Monarch of the Minor Shattering Law, and the destined Behemoth of the Major Destruction Law, have nothing to offer you? Have you become a Behemoth yourself and somehow I missed the news?"

"..." Robin didn't respond, but the change in Hedrick's demeanor didn't go unnoticed. For the first time, he sensed a flicker of emotion beneath Hedrick's usually polished surface. Clearly, those words had struck a nerve—offended him, even.

Robin rubbed at his forehead, letting out a slow breath. He wasn't trying to provoke the man—not entirely. Even if he rejected him now, Robin had no desire to make an enemy of someone like him. "That's not what I meant. I was just responding to your offer, and from where I stand, it simply doesn't hold up logically."

Hedrick nodded slowly, seeming to accept the response, then gestured toward him with renewed interest. "He gave you a mission, didn't he? Speak to me about it. Let's hear what's so secret."

"...I can't." Robin shook his head, firm but regretful.

He truly wanted to tell him. After all this talk of shared paths and mutual trust, maybe Hedrick really would help him. And if he didn't? At least he wouldn't sabotage him. Hedrick was already occupied with his own grand ambitions; he wasn't likely to come creating enemies out of thin air. But still... if Robin spoke even a little too openly, he might trigger the All-Seeing god's curse—and be dragged into that eternal torment where silence was the only escape.

"So it's some kind of law-bound mission or sealed order? Fine, no problem... Let me guess then. Just give me a signal if I'm getting close." Hedrick pointed twice at Robin, eyes sharp with curiosity. "You mentioned 600 years more than once. That has to be a clue."

"....." Robin felt a brief flicker of amusement, but said nothing—neither confirming nor denying.

"You're trying to amass a huge number of planets around Nihari within the next 600 years... but why? What's the purpose?" Hedrick leaned forward, gaze narrowing. "From what I know, Nihari has around a hundred thousand years left before its scheduled ascension. So why the rush? Why this specific 600-year window?"

"..." Robin kept his silence, though the tension around him thickened.

"I don't get it... Is that the mission? To gather planets around Nihari for 600 years, maybe to construct an artificial galaxy of some kind? But to what end? What happens after that?" Hedrick furrowed his brows deeply, eyes darting as he followed the trail of logic. "...There's no way you're trying to force an early ascension. That's practically impossible. Almost no one in history has managed to ascend a planet before its natural timeline. So what else could it be...?"

"....!!" Robin's expression shifted—subtly, but noticeably.

"What was that?" Hedrick caught it instantly. "Was I close?" His voice sharpened with realization as his eyes widened. "Wait... don't tell me... You're preparing for Nihari's ascension—not just as a planet, but as a galaxy—within 600 years? That's your mission?!"

Robin lifted his shoulders in a shrug, chuckling softly. "Funny, isn't it? Suddenly your own problems don't feel quite as overwhelming, do they? Makes you reconsider the scale of what you're facing."

With those vague yet pointed words, Robin neither confirmed nor denied Hedrick's guess—but the message was crystal clear.

"This really is..." Hedrick exhaled, slowly leaning back into the plush comfort of his velvet chair, still processing what he'd just heard.

"Extreme? Overkill? Intellectual rape?" Robin let out a sharp, bitter chuckle, his tone tinged with both sarcasm and simmering irritation. "Come on now, partner—what's your take on that situation?"

"...I genuinely don't know what to say." Hedrick's brows tightened into a heavy frown, his expression shadowed by doubt. "Forget for a second what might happen to you once you reach the Mid Belt... can you even make it there within 600 years?"

"I'm giving it everything I have," Robin replied, nodding with controlled resolve. "But there's a certain... inner certainty that I can do it. And to be perfectly honest? I don't have the luxury of failure. It's simply not an option—no matter what it costs."

Hedrick nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing with thought. "There's clearly a heavy burden on your shoulders—something worth taking seriously, and something we should probably sit down and examine further. But what I really can't understand is your stubborn attachment to using Fourth-Grade Planetary Displacement Gear. I mean, back during the War period, if memory serves, you had what—four, maybe five planets under your command?"

He leaned forward slightly, calculating. "Even assuming you managed to annex some of the Great Serpent Empire's territories after your victory, what would that bring your total to? Fifteen planets? Twenty, tops?"

Hedrick paused, letting the silence fill with numbers and weight. "That was around 400 years ago, wasn't it? So let's assume you started from a base of about fifteen planets, with the stolen fleets from the Serpent's empire boosting your capabilities. How many more could you have added since then? Forty? Fifty, if you were very aggressive?"

He lifted a brow. "Now let's add the 600 years you claim you still have. Say you push hard, conquer like mad, pour everything you've got into it. Maybe you squeeze out a hundred. Maybe. And even if you poured your entire fortune into armament upgrades, bought new fleets, constructed elite armies, let's be generous and throw in another fifty—due to weapon superiority and surprise raids. That brings the total to, what? 150 planets?"

Then his tone sharpened slightly. "150 planets—most of them likely still unstable, rife with civil unrest, internal resistance, and border skirmishes. These aren't peaceful little colonies welcoming you with parades. Don't you think using my Planetary Displacement Gears, which gives you 180 full-scale mobilizations, is overkill for something like that? You'd have more deployment slots than you have planets to control. It's excessive."

Clap Clap Robin let out a tired sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Impressive analysis. 150 planets—that was actually my initial estimate as well. That's what I based my first deployment orders on." Then a sly grin crossed his face, and he chuckled softly. "But reality surprised me. Turns out... my army's a little more capable than even I expected."

"Wait... are you saying you're aiming to conquer more than 180 planets before the 600 years are up?" Hedrick's expression darkened, disbelief evident. "That's madness. You can't subjugate planets that quickly. The moment you conquer one, it takes time to stabilize it before moving your forces to the next. That's the fundamental bottleneck everyone faces. It's the core dilemma of interstellar conquest. No one has ever solved it through brute strength alone."

"Well, my Empire did," Robin said simply, with a spark of pride. "And we are not aiming to do it. We've already done it... I've gathered that number—and more." He raised his hand, waving like a victorious general basking in triumph. "That's why I need Fourth-Grade Displacement Gear. Because I'm not done. I want to gather the maximum number of planets possible before ascension. Every single one increases my odds of survival—and success."

"...Even if, for the sake of argument, I believe you somehow amassed that many planets—what good are they if they're all in flames? If they're locked in internal wars, if their people are against you? What use is it to ascend with a horde of unstable worlds only to have their populations turn on you at the first spark?" Hedrick shook his head. "My advice? Take only the planets you've truly conquered—those you've broken and rebuilt under your banner. Maybe 40. Maybe 50. Leave the rest. Strip them clean and move on."

"No thanks," Robin said with a light shrug and a smirk. "I'm a selfish man. I want all of them in my embrace."

Is this a joke? Even if his mission was only to gather one hundred planets, that wasn't a limit to shackle him. If he could drag every stone, every particle of dust in his path with him in case it helped, he would. Let alone entire planets.

Hedrick's eyebrows drew so close they almost touched. "Lord Robin, I'm sincerely trying to find a compromise here—something where we can support each other and walk forward together. But if you keep shutting down every option, refusing to negotiate, then—"

Robin cut him off with a casual flick of the hand. "Then what, Lord Hedrick?"

If he failed the All-Seeing god's mission, he'd be dragged into eternal damnation—a hell that no alliance, no empire, no army could shield him from. If someone actively tried to sabotage that mission, they didn't deserve a single ounce of concern. Even earning Hedrick's wrath was nothing compared to what awaited him if he failed.

The white-haired young man stared into Robin's firm, unwavering gaze for several long moments... then, to Robin's surprise, he smiled faintly. "Then the agreement might become... difficult."