Lord of the Truth

After a few long, chaotic minutes—

Pull Pull

Malik grunted as he tightened the rope around the young man's wrists, dragging them harshly behind his back. He didn't stop there; he looped the rope around a stick, then began to twist it with a ruthless rhythm.

"Aaahhh! Enough, stop already! He's tied well enough, why did you come too?! What are you all trying to do—squeeze oil out of me ? Do O look like I'm a damned olive?!" the youth cried, his eyes glassy with tears, his voice trembling somewhere between pain and panic.

Bang!

"I won't stop until your arm turns blue and black!" Malik snarled, delivering a smack to the back of his head with his right hand. Before the youth could recover, Malik yanked the spatial ring off his finger and returned to his work, twisting the stick again, drawing the rope tighter and tighter. The boy whimpered pitifully with each turn.

The battle itself had been almost disappointing—short, brutal, and decisive. It hadn't even lasted a quarter of the time Robin expected. Watching it unfold, Robin found himself nodding with satisfaction unconsciously, again and again, a wide grin tugging at his face.

Wade and Malik had joined Cilibos and Lonta against the two World Cataclysms. And as anyone with sense would have predicted, the outcome was sealed the moment they clashed. The world cataclysms tried to escape, desperation in every step, but against wielders of time and space, how far could they really go? They had been trapped before they even realized they were hunted.

Soon enough, both were dragged down alive, pinned beneath the weight of sharpened sealing nails hammered into their chests. These weren't the ordinary sealing nails. They were improved versions, refined in the laboratories of the Research and Development City after Theo had gone out of his way to purchase sealing methods from across the Mid Belt.

True, a sealing nail still couldn't completely restrain a World Cataclysm. But it could choke the flow of energy from their core into their veins, suffocating their strength, turning monsters into captives. That was more than enough for the imperial guards to keep them in check.

As for the rest of the students and their bodyguards—Latania handled them all alone.

"What are you? What are you people?!" Kazarin screamed, thrashing like a man possessed as she bound him. His voice cracked into something feral, his eyes rolling with panic. When she ignored him, he shrieked louder, desperation dripping from every syllable. "Don't you know who I am?! Don't you know what will happen to you if we don't return to the academy?! You're all going to—mmmphhh!!"

"Tsk~ Shut that filthy mouth already." Latania cut him off coldly, shoving a rock into his mouth with all the care of a butcher silencing a squealing pig. Then she tied his arms and legs tightly together, bending him awkwardly and rendering him helpless.

With that done, she straightened, brushing her palms together as if wiping away dust. She walked back toward Robin, her posture neat and composed, her hands resting elegantly behind her back. "Done, Your Majesty. They're all still alive, just as you ordered. I left them conscious, too. Shall we begin the interrogation?"

At that moment, Wade and Malik also stepped forward. Both had finished their tasks, both stood quietly at his side, awaiting his words. But Robin noticed something else—there was a light in their eyes. Each of the three bore a different gleam, yet all carried the same unspoken thought:

His Majesty… in that state… was able to fight all of these, alone?

"Interrogation? No need for that." Robin's laugh came soft.

Latania nodded firmly, her expression turning sharp, resolute. "You're right, Your Majesty. If the powers behind them dare to seek revenge, give us the signal. If they got out of their empire to go after you, we'll make sure they have no home left to crawl back to."

"Mmmmphhh!!!" Kazarin's eyes widened, tears pricking at the corners. His ruined face twisted with terror. He wanted to scream about his great-grandfather, about the Nexus State, about salvation—but the stone gagged his words, leaving him choking on fear.

"No one will come." Robin shook his head with an easy laugh. "They came here prepared to murder a professor. That means they already erased their traces, ensured no one could track them here. Even if every last one of them dies, the blame will never touch us."

"Mmmmmmnnnnnnghhh!!!"

"Shall we kill them then, Your Majesty?" Wade's voice was sharp, his eyes glinting with a dangerous hunger. "They're awfully noisy."

Malik nodded solemnly. "I can erase their bodies—and everything that has a link with them—from existence. No trace left at all."

"Mmmmmnnnnnnnnnn!!!" Kazarin's muffled scream was so raw it was almost pitiful.

"Not now," Robin said simply, shaking his head with a faint smile. "I still have use for them." His tone softened, as though he were changing the subject entirely. "What about the specter herd?"

Rustle.

All three produced small leather pouches from within their robes. Each bag bulged with stones of uneven size, glowing faintly with a heavy golden-yellow light. The shimmer played across their faces, painting them with an otherworldly gleam as the weight of the spoils became clear.

Robin's lips curved into a slow smile at their reactions. They didn't need to answer him with words— the three bulging pouches told the tale more clearly than anything else. The herd of specters was no more. Their fate had already been sealed, their corrupted souls broken down into this gleaming treasure.

"Did you count how many units are in here?" Robin finally asked, his tone light, almost conversational.

"I've got about twenty-two thousand," Malik said, his voice as steady and reserved as always.

"I gathered twenty-one point five," Wade muttered with a long sigh, though there was no disguising the fatigue in his tone.

"Hehe, mine's twenty-one point seven," Latania added casually. She didn't even look Wade's way as she spoke, nor did she need to. The lilting playfulness in her voice alone was enough to set fire to Wade's blood, the sting of rivalry crackling in the air.

"Not bad at all…" Robin nodded, satisfaction flickering across his expression. With a flex of his soul force, the pouches lifted into the air, drawn smoothly into his grasp before vanishing into the depths of his spatial ring. "In just a few short hours we've gathered around sixty-five thousand units. From an initial investment of four hundred thousand, this pace could very well make the journey worthwhile. If we continue like this, we will get back our investment and some more."

Specters—creatures born of malice and corruption—were, at their essence, nothing more than initial souls twisted into abominations. Their cores were still soul essence, still capable of being harvested. And when slain, that essence condensed into emerald ore—shards of crystallized soul cores.

Thus, what the three of them had gathered wasn't just some spoils of war—it was sixty-five thousand ready-made soul essence. With only a little effort, purified of the negative energy and festering hatred within, they would be clean and sharp, perfect for solidifying into the hardened walls of a soul domain—or melted into liquid strength to flood its depths.

And if Robin so desired, he could sell them instead. Just imagine: refined in bulk and put on display at an auction, in the Soul Society or anywhere that serious Soul Masters congregated, their worth would multiply. They wouldn't just sell—they would spark bidding wars. Millions of Pearls could be earned without effort, and that was on the lower end.

Ordinarily, one unit of soul force equaled one Energy Pearl. A fair exchange. But where could one find it in the first place? It wasn't as simple as walking into a market stall. It was like elemental Pearls. To the simple folk of Gudah, one Pearl was as good as another. But take a frost Pearl or a flame Pearl to the right place, price it at one thousand pure Energy Pearls each, and the buyers would come, tripping over each other to pay. Some might even pay more.

That had been one of the great secrets of empire-building: selling resources to the right people. The Serpent Empire had grown fat on elemental Pearls, and through that wealth Helen and her Empire of the Pit of Destruction stood firm in their war.

Sixty-five thousand units of emerald ore… could anyone else achieve such a return in only a handful of hours? Perhaps. But only under extraordinary circumstances. Perhaps if they had three wielders of major fundamental laws and, guiding them, a Great Truth Chosen.

"Would you like to enter seclusion now, Your Majesty, and begin absorbing them? We can guard you." Malik's voice carried the weight of devotion, his offer quiet yet firm.

"No." Robin shook his head and sighed, his eyes narrowing. "It would take months to properly expand my domain with this amount. Better to gather as much as we can first. Then, in the right place, at the right time, I'll enter seclusion."

The three nodded at once, each placing their hands neatly behind their backs, standing in silence like statues awaiting command.

But Latania was never one to let silence linger for long. Her voice slipped out smoothly, half-suggestion, half-provocation. "Shall we split up to hunt for more specter herds, Your Majesty?"

"...No," Robin said after a pause, his gaze distant as he recalled his earlier journey. "I spent hours racing across these lands at full speed, and not a single herd appeared. When I finally found one, it contained more than twenty thousand specters, with dozens among them surpassing fifty thousand units. If we split up, we risk failure—or worse, one of you could stumble into a herd that even you cannot withstand."

His voice was calm, but the weight beneath it was absolute. They listened without question.

Then Robin's smile returned, subtle and sharp. His brows tilted ever so slightly toward the prisoners lying bound and helpless on the ground. Their bodies twitched, their eyes wide with fear, muffled noises spilling from gagged mouths.

"But fortunately," Robin said softly, his tone edged with amusement, "we now have… assistance."