Lord of the Truth

After a full day—four and a half days had passed since they first set foot on the Planet of the Specter Valley.

Malek inched forward with deliberate care, his boots scraping against the rough stone as he approached the edge of a colossal cliff. His voice was hushed, almost only moving his lips. "This is the last one."

"Tsk, tsk~" Wade, who had joined them again not long ago, followed in quiet steps, tiptoeing as though afraid the very ground might betray them. His eyes widened as he peered downward. "Has it… gotten bigger? This is going to be a brutal day." He cast a sidelong glance toward Robin, whispering with tension in his voice, "Do you want us to scatter a few of them, your majesty? Maybe… three-quarters?"

"..." Robin said nothing at first. With a faint creak of his wheelchair, he rolled forward, his gaze sharp and deliberate. He stared downward, surveying what lay beneath—the largest herd they had uncovered yet in this quarter of the planet.

Below them, stretching as far as the eye could see, churned a sea of specters—thirty thousand at the very least, writhing and shifting like an ocean of shadows. Their shrieks echoed faintly even at this height, a sound that clawed at the nerves.

…A few days earlier, when Robin had declared the beginning of the hunt, it had not meant that the fifty prisoners would serve as mere bait to lure stray specters for slaughter. No. Their deaths were not for hunting strays; they were to clear the stage for the true hunt.

And what was that? The discovery of herds.

Robin had commanded the three guards to scatter those fifty prisoners across a vast territory spanning nearly a quarter of the planet, each placement guided by the fundamental laws they wielded. The plan was merciless yet effective: once a prisoner was discovered and torn apart by a herd, the guards would trace the herd' paths, marking their trails with pinpoint accuracy.

Thus began the casting of the bait, a grim ritual that lasted only three days. And the results were staggering—seventeen herds located in that short span. Now, the day of pulling in the catch had arrived.

But this… this was different.

A herd of thirty thousand strong!

Robin's eyes narrowed, his spiritual sense sweeping across the potential battlefield below. Among the horde, countless specters radiated soul force exceeding one thousand units. Worse still, several towered far higher, monstrous presences with power above fifty thousand.

Two figures in particular stole his focus. Each stood like a pillar at opposite ends of the horde, and around each one, clusters of lesser specters gathered instinctively, as if the herd itself were divided into two dominions—or perhaps it was once two herds that had merged for reasons unknown.

The first exuded a dreadful aura—two hundred twenty thousand units of soul force pulsed from its frame. A gigantic skeleton, five meters tall, draped in a cloak that fluttered with unnatural weight. From its skull jutted two horns, asymmetrical, one far longer than the other. At its side lay a sword, broad and imposing, its steel marred by a single gaping hole running down the center.

Robin's eyes flashed at once—he recognized it. That weapon was no mere relic. It was, without doubt, an Epic artifact of at least mid-tier grade, and perhaps more.

The second figure radiated nearly the same power—two hundred thirty thousand units. Yet unlike its skeletal counterpart, it was clad in full armor, a knightly figure. But where a head should have been, nothing remained. Instead, streams of ethereal essence rose from its shoulders, weaving themselves into shifting masks—sometimes a hollow specter's face, sometimes the twisted visage of a beast, each image flickering in and out as if mocking reality itself.

At the sight of them, Robin's expression shifted. His eyes gleamed with feverish light, and the corner of his mouth glistened as though he could already taste the power. Even if he ignored the immense soul force he would gain from refining them… if he could obtain just one of these two—only one—and harness it with the Nihari Sun's capacity-expanding ability… what unimaginable heights of power could he display through it?

He remembered well: Baithor, in life, had possessed no more than three thousand units. Yet even he had been raised to a maximum capacity of three hundred fifty thousand! The thought made Robin's pulse quicken.

"We cannot possibly contend with this herd," Malek muttered, his voice taut with dread. "I suggest we treat them the same way we did the other herd, the one Your Majesty warned us never to approach. Surely… you've gathered enough by now, haven't you?"

"...." Robin gave a silent nod, his expression grave.

One of the herds they had tracked earlier was the dreaded Shepherd's Herd. It had already swollen to fifty thousand specters, and disturbingly, it continued to grow with each passing day, as if something unseen was drawing more and more to it. Robin had wasted no time in ordering them to forget its existence altogether. To even consider it was madness.

For his part, he had already caged sixteen entire groups. The southeastern quarter of the planet had been stripped clean, every major herd contained and sealed, save for the Shepherd's. He did not possess the precise calculations of the soul force units locked within those cages, but he knew without doubt—it was far more than he required to achieve his ambitions.

What remained on the Planet of the Specter Valley? Vast regions: the northeast, northwest, and southwest, still harboring countless herds of wandering specters. And at the center lay the forbidden zone, a place shrouded in secrets. But none of that mattered to him now. Even if he desired to capture more, his soul domain had limits. It was already bursting at its seams, straining under the weight of thousands upon thousands of unwilling prisoners.

If not for the fact that every specter inside his domain acted as an isolated entity, each locked in its own awareness and unable to unify, his inner world would have been torn apart long ago. In truth, the situation was fragile—if even a single cage were to break and its captives escape, the result would be catastrophic, a calamity with no remedy.

"This doesn't happen often," Wade muttered, voice unusually tense, "but this time, I agree with Malek." His grin was gone, replaced with eyes that darted like wildfire, restless and sharp. "Look—there, and there, and there." His finger stabbed the air at several points.

Robin and Malek followed his directions, their gazes sweeping the massive horde below. And then they saw it. At each spot Wade indicated, a powerful specter stood, with lesser specters circled around them in eerie formation, like planets orbiting their suns. Amidst thirty thousand writhing figures, such movement was easy to miss—but when one focused on several of these points at once, the pattern was undeniable.

"…This is no ordinary herd," Malek breathed, brows knotted in suspicion. "It's as if multiple herds have merged. But why don't their kings fight? By all laws of nature, they should be tearing each other apart."

Wade tilted his head toward the two most dominant figures, standing at opposite edges of the horde. "Look at them. They've been staring at each other since we arrived. Each is on the verge of slaughtering the other, yet something invisible restrains them." His gaze flicked back toward Robin, voice dropping lower. "This is nothing like the Shepherd's Herd. Hers is larger still, and filled with rival power centers. Yet she alone holds them together, every specter following her command without question. But this one... Who holds power in this one?!"

"...." Robin studied the writhing sea below, his eyes hardening. He lingered in silence, measuring every detail, then at last nodded curtly and began to withdraw. "We're leaving. Now."

Everything about this herd was wrong. Too many specters, too much power condensed unnaturally in one place. Though it held more soul force than all the groups he had captured combined, Robin knew better than to gamble. Even he would not risk his life here.

But before they could move—

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM—

A titanic wave of soul force erupted without warning. It struck like a hammer of the heavens, crashing across the land in an instant. The ground quaked beneath their feet, dust leapt into the air, and the very air seemed to warp under its weight.

In a heartbeat it swept through Robin and his companions, freezing their breath in their lungs. Their bodies stiffened, their skin prickled, and even their souls recoiled in raw terror. The oppressive weight was alien, absolute, overwhelming—none of them could even think of resisting.

This was no power they had ever encountered. It felt ancient, immeasurable, like the echo of some forgotten deity walking the earth.

And then, cutting through the suffocating silence, came the sound of footsteps.

BAM BAM BAM