Lord of the Truth

"What you're witnessing now," Hedrick began, his voice deep and deliberate, "is not a live battle—but a recording. A memory of carnage burned into Verillion's history. It took place nearly eighty-five years ago. One of my elite scouts captured the entire conflict and sent it to me afterward."

He swept his hand across the illusionary space. "I reconstructed this entire phantom battlefield from that recording. Not merely as a spectacle… but as a warning. As insight. So that you, Robin, might glimpse even a fraction of what lies ahead."

Hedrick gestured downward with a slow nod. "The battle you see was ignited by a unified assault—an alliance of desperate factions. They pooled their forces, aligned their fleets, and launched a full-scale siege. But such large-scale movement doesn't go unnoticed. Their amassed numbers gave off a stench of war long before they arrived. We were ready. So when they came... we met them head on."

The crimson storm clouds below pulsed with light and death as if affirming every word.

"In that single confrontation," Hedrick continued, "the energy saturation of the planet plummeted. Entire biozones were scorched into oblivion. A full quarter of Verillion's surface turned to ash."

"The Millennial Empire of the Shattering Meteors," he said with steel in his tone, "held the line. But it came at a brutal cost. That battle marked the beginning of their downward spiral because of how many elite men perished. One planet lost. Then another. The dwindling of their legions has not stopped since. They couldn't even drive the invaders out fully. A portion of Verillion still remains under enemy control—about thirty-five percent of its surface. A permanent wound in the body of the empire."

Robin remained silent, absorbing it all.

For one empire to resist such a tide… to keep a foothold when crushed by dozens of others… It was no wonder Hedrick had so little faith in Robin's comparatively meager forces. How could he?

"Every single day," Hedrick said darkly, "skirmishes erupt along that border. Dozens of battles, endless bloodshed. And roughly every fifty to a hundred years… a war like this one ignites. I estimate the shattering Meteors Empire can endure one or two more—at best—before it shatters."

He turned now, facing Robin with a cold fire in his eyes.

"What you're seeing," he said, "is a contained cosmic war. One with limits. A microcosm. Here, mortals battle below, while true sovereigns confined in the skies. But on the Mid-Belt? There are no such barriers. World Cataclysms and Nexis State Realm experts walk the very surface of planets. One strike levels mountain ranges. One wave of a hand obliterates oceans."

"And yet…" He looked down once more. "Even here—this 'limited' war is devastation incarnate."

"In the Mid-Belt, a planet's very fabric suppresses the overwhelming power of the higher cultivators. Stage 7 laws strengthen the internal structure, allowing it to absorb and contain some of that apocalyptic force. The energy density is richer. The land can take the punishment... for a time."

"But not here in the young belt."

His voice grew lower.

"In the Young Belt, everything is fragile. The space is thin, brittle. The atmosphere is no sturdier than a bubble of soap. If my subordinates lose focus for even a moment… it's all over. Verillion will be torn apart before you can blink."

Pof

Robin collapsed onto the cloud-like floor, body heavy, breath slow.

He wasn't wounded—just overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed by what he had seen.

Overwhelmed by what he had imagined.

By the sheer terror of picturing Nihari—his Nihari—enduring the same fate.

A battlefield soaked in blood. A sky painted with death.

Seeing this, Hedrick allowed himself the tiniest smirk. A rare thing.

"So…" he asked casually, "did you already dispatch someone to retrieve the Fourth Grade Planetary Displacement Gear? Or are you planning to deliver it personally?"

"..." Robin let out a low laugh, almost in disbelief. Then he shook his head slowly. "No change of heart. My offer stands. I'll assist you in defending Verillion from within. I'll hold the core until the moment of ascension."

He pointed upward.

"But everything above the sky—that's your territory, Hedrick. Protect the orbit. Hold the heavens. Whether you do it through proxies or by standing there yourself… that's your battlefield, not mine."

Hedrick's gaze hardened.

"Even after all this… you still believe the single unit you're sending will accomplish anything? That they'll even last a day?"

His annoyance was visible now. He turned sharply, beginning to walk back toward the center of the cloud. "As you wish. Three years will pass before you realize your mistake."

Of all traits Hedrick loathed, overestimation was among the worst.

He had invested over two hundred thousand years into this planetary empire—his wealth, his armies, his life.

And still, it could barely survive a few centuries of true war.

Now Robin—this ambitious spark from the Young Belt—claimed he'd hold a planet for two and a half millennia?

It wasn't just arrogance. It was disrespect.

Insulting, even.

And yet… Hedrick swallowed his pride.

Not now.

Not when this potential alliance still mattered.

"Wait!"

Robin's voice cut through the tension.

"Is there something else?" Hedrik turned back toward Robin, his eyebrows slightly furrowed with restrained irritation.

Robin turned as well, but instead of seriousness, a wide grin spread across his face—playful and mischievous. "I want a partnership gift," he said, his tone both lighthearted and sly. Then he stood up slowly, took one last long look at the battlefield raging beneath them, and placed both hands behind his back as he strolled forward a couple of steps. "Hehe, you're the elder here, and the one with the higher standing. It's tradition—you should offer me a gift to commemorate the beginning of our partnership. Otherwise, this ceremony feels incomplete!"

"..." Hedrik raised a single eyebrow. The flicker of annoyance on his face grew a little more visible, but he suppressed it—clearly, he was holding back. "Perhaps you're right," he muttered. "Do you have anything in particular in mind? What about a third-stage planetary weapon?"

This day just kept getting stranger by the minute.

There were others—many others—with fourth-grade planetary displacement gear he could have negotiated with. Deals that didn't require him to step personally into a galactic warzone in Sector 99. And yet, here he was... agreeing to this insanity for one reason only: to secure a partnership with Robin—the candidate of that person, a coming storm destined to reshape the known universe.

And yet, judging by Robin's current strength, that moment of destiny could still be hundreds of thousands of years away.

So why was he putting himself through this? He'd offered to step into a war he had no personal stake in, only to be met with arrogance—Robin seemed to genuinely believe his forces could actually make a difference in such a cosmic struggle. And now the boy wanted gifts?

The irritation began to press heavier against Hedrik's chest. He reminded himself again: patience—he would need plenty of it until this "boy" matured.

"A third-stage weapon? No, no, such things are trivial... easily bought." Robin waved dismissively, then rubbed his palms together with an eager look. "What I'm after is something more meaningful. And I'm confident you won't deny me."

Before Hedrik could frown any deeper, Robin continued quickly, "Your little sister cast an Eternal Stillness Curse on my first and only disciple. I want the key to free him."

"Oh? That happened?" Hedrik's expression shifted from mild annoyance to a more thoughtful, understanding look. "Indeed, we can't speak of goodwill if your disciple remains trapped in such a state. Very well, give me a moment."

Shooo

Robin blinked, surprised as Hedrik's projection vanished instantly. But rather than panic, he simply turned back toward the sky and battlefield—perhaps Hedrik had gone to send a message to his sister, or fetch the key himself.

Clang Clang

Robin's heart pounded again. The scene below was still roaring in its intensity. His war against the Great Serpent Empire now felt like child's play in a garden sandbox by comparison.

Only now did he notice them—massive glowing spheres floating above the battlefield, like miniature suns suspended in midair. They looked strikingly similar to the planetary blessings he had seen activated in Nihari and Greenland!

"..."

Robin squinted, narrowing his eyes as he tried to count. Five in total. Two of their users had transformed into monstrous beast-like forms, while the other three remained in their humanoid shapes.

Clearly, these blessings didn't alter their outer appearance the same way Pythor's did. Nor did they warp the environment directly like Nihari's gravitational gift. But there was no doubt they had activated them for a reason—they must provide powerful combat boosts, or no one would risk using them in such an intense clash.

And there was something else—

Shooo

"Hmm?" Robin turned quickly, just in time to see Hedrik's projection reappear in front of him. He smiled and spoke with practiced cheer, "Oh, you've already contacted your dear little sister? Thank you! I'll be eagerly awaiting the key—"

"There's no need to wait." Hedrik waved calmly, and a small purple orb of energy shot toward Robin, entering his forehead without resistance. "That's the key."

Then he clasped his hands behind his back again, his stance ever formal. "It was the Royal Soul Master, Drais—my right hand—who cast the Eternal Stillness Curse and a few supporting enchantments and gave them to her. I just acquired the key from him and will inform Helen later about the deal and the curse's removal."

"...That's really it?" Robin blinked, lifting his brows as if he couldn't quite believe how simple it all was. "I can fix my disciple now?"

"Give him my regards... and my apologies," Hedrik said with a slight smile. Then he raised his hand in farewell. "May our next meetings be filled with good news. Farewell, partner."

"....."

Robin raised his hand and waved back, but it lingered mid-air as he stood frozen, staring blankly at the spot where Hedrik had once stood.

Did I really... just receive the key?