Lord of the Truth

"You truly have a keen eye!" Robin pointed toward her with a playful grin and a lighthearted chuckle. "But no, you're mistaken. I sacrificed twenty levels to save you. My purification process, in comparison, was far easier~"

Well… easier in terms of requirements, not the process itself.

For the reality was that Robin had literally set himself ablaze, letting flames surge through every vein, every nerve, until they devoured and burned away every trace of impurity or corruption lodged within his body and soul.

Those flames were merciless. If they had caught someone from the Durghren race, for example, they would not have gone out until the victim was completely consumed, either dead or remade into a pure-blooded human. That was the true ferocity and relentlessness of those purgatory fires, the reason he never uses them, afraid that the would attack him for any impurity he doesn't even know about!

"You did it for… saving me?" Morgana's voice cracked with difficulty, her breath heavy and broken.

She lowered her gaze toward her pierced, broken body, staring at the deep wounds as though trying once again to confirm that what had happened was not some cruel dream. Her chest rose and fell as she drew a trembling breath, pain and disbelief twisting her expression.

Her gaze drifted slowly across the cave—it was nothing more than a hollow scar in the heart of a mountain, an oppressive darkness swallowing every corner. She depended more on her soul sense than her vision to perceive her surroundings. No remarkable ornaments, no beauty to comfort the eye. Only a scattering of small array banners spread like forgotten remnants of war.

And there—two figures sprawled on the cold ground, asleep, one of them snoring so loudly it pierced the silence.

At last, her gaze circled back to Robin, drawn to him as though pulled by invisible chains. "How then… did you heal yourself from the corruption?"

"…?" Robin raised his brows, a frown forming for a fleeting moment before dissolving into hearty laughter. "Haha! I pulled you out from among dozens of World Cataclysms and Nexus States in a way that forced me to lose twenty solid foundations, and all you can think to ask is how I healed myself?"

"You don't… understand…" Morgana whispered, her voice fading into exhaustion, her head bowing low as if too heavy to hold up.

"But I do understand…" Robin leaned slightly closer, his tone softening, his eyes glimmering with that strange light of insight. "I can see the reason behind your question as clearly as if it were written in the air." He pointed gently toward her twice, his movements carrying a strange tenderness. "Why don't we make a deal?" He clapped once, the sound echoing faintly in the hollow cave. "I will heal your body now, completely, and afterwards you can ask me anything—everything you wish. What do you say?"

In truth, Robin's curiosity toward this mysterious girl was not much less than hers toward him. Her uncanny control over specters, her strength as a Royal Spirit Lady and as a mistress of spells… and above all, the greatest enigma—the reason the Master Law of Causality itself had nudged him into becoming entangled with her fate!

"...." Morgana stared at his face for a long moment, her eyes wavering between resistance and surrender. At last, she closed them, leaning her head gently against the cold wall of stone, and nodded faintly.

"Excellent."

With the simplest flick of his wrist, the flags strewn across the ground began to stir and dance as if waking from slumber. They were the markers of the tri-fold array Malek had once used. Robin hadn't had the time to gather them after dragging Malek out for purification.

Whoooosh~

Layer after layer, barrier upon barrier, the threefold canopy bloomed around Morgana like a living veil of power. She suddenly found herself encased within a tri-colored tent, its radiant walls pressing warmth into her very marrow. The structure reinforced her broken body, healing wounds both visible and hidden, channeling gentle streams of life energy into her veins. She released a soft sigh, long and weary, and surrendered to its embrace.

For the very first time in her life, she was being healed—truly healed. Not a trick, not her own willpower stitched over wounds, not some cold exchange of survival. This was aid freely given. She was not used to it. Her entire existence had been a struggle where trust was a fragile illusion.

To her, all living beings were nothing more than specters waiting for their eventual transformation, pale reflections of death yet to be claimed. She looked upon them with faint smiles, as though praising them in mockery, silently whispering in her heart: It's good you haven't turned yet. Hold on to what you still have.

But beyond that thin mask of courtesy, she trusted no one. Not after what had happened to her family. Not after the tragedy that had devoured her planet.

And yet today, slowly, softly… for the first time in so long, she felt her body slacken. She found herself drifting, slipping into the pull of sleep.

Seeing this, Robin smiled faintly and nodded. To feel safe in the presence of another… that was the first step toward granting trust.

Then, with calm eyes, he turned aside. Malek and Wade were still lost in the depths of slumber. Their bodies and souls were unbroken, untouched by lasting damage. Even if he activated the tri-fold array around them now, they would gain nothing from it. What they needed was not healing, but rest—several hours of pure, undisturbed sleep, for their soul domains to catch up with the changes that had shaken them.

Silence~

The cave, which had once echoed with screams fierce enough to stain eternity for millions of years, was now drowned in profound, weighty quiet.

Yet even that silence did not endure for long…

Robin lifted his gaze to the unseen heights above, his lips curving into a quiet, knowing smile.

"Fai, have I fulfilled the promise I made to you?"

Whoooosh

The ceiling of the cave began to tremble, stone cracking and shifting as if drawn by an unseen will. Shards of rock scraped against each other, collapsing inward toward a single blazing point that glowed before Robin's eyes.

From that point, a shape emerged—a statue, small and delicate, yet eerily alive. It resembled a little girl carved from ancient stone, her features still and haunting, "…How?"

"I have my own ways." Robin chuckled lightly, brushing off the impossibility with a casual air. He then extended a finger toward the statue. "You asked me to grant her a swift death, to keep her from becoming a specter. Yet look—she still breathes, her soul intact." His lips curved into a teasing smile. "Now then… where is my reward?"

The Planet's Spirit stared at him, her expression shifting with intensity. Until now, she had seen him as nothing more than a candidate, a dangerous but reliable individual with potential. Yet in this moment, her view changed—before her stood not just a man, but something far rarer. "…Can you free me?" she asked, her voice trembling between hope and desperation.

"Hah?" Robin arched a brow, amusement breaking across his features. "You want me to steal you, a planet, away from that Syndicate? You give me too much credit." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "I am just someone at level 11, as plain as you see."

"But you will not stay there forever." The Planet's Soul's stone-like eyes glimmered faintly with longing. "I can see it—you carry no grief, not even a flicker of sorrow, for losing all those hard-earned levels. It was as though… you intended to sacrifice them anyway. As if you wanted this price to be paid." Her voice grew sharper, urgent. "So do the same again. Sacrifice the rest—for me!"

"....Little girl, did you make this request form the beginning to test me? To see if this golden eye user is good enough of a partner for you?" Robin's gaze hardened. He raised an eyebrow, lips pressed into a thin line. "But why not, perhaps… one day," he said slowly. "But understand this—it will come with a price beyond imagining."

"I am worth that price!!" The Planet's Spirit replied instantly, her words carrying the weight of conviction. "That tower you glimpsed, the one that binds me in endless torment—it alone is worth declaring war against the Syndicate. That tower is worth exchanging not just hundreds of planets, but thousands."

Robin's brow lifted slightly, his intrigue piqued. "What is it, then? What is that thing?"

The image of the structure resurfaced vividly in his mind. That tower—it bore a striking resemblance to the step-pyramid on the Orphan's Blood Planet. His heart clenched at the realization, dread mingling with curiosity.

"…I do not know," the Planet's Spirit whispered, her voice breaking as if heavy chains pressed upon her. "All I know is what I have heard from the mouths of those who torment me. They spoke of it as they performed their sacrifices upon its cursed stones, tearing my essence apart again and again in its name." Her voice wavered, filled with grief, and for a moment it seemed as though even a soul bound to a planet could weep.

"Did they… place it there? Did they build it upon your surface?" Robin's brows furrowed deeply. If this were true, then a calamity far greater than he imagined was festering within the Young Sector.

"No." Her voice grew low, heavy with the weight of ancient memory. "From the very moment my awareness began to form, it was already there—towering above me like the mountains and oceans that define my skin. But it was never natural. From the beginning, it was clear. It was something crafted, something forged. A creation older than the rivers, older than the seas, older than all life upon me… older even than I, the Spirit of this world."

Her words echoed with dread. Robin narrowed his eyes, thoughts racing.

"Let me guess…" His lips curved into the faintest of knowing smirks, his brows arching with deliberate sharpness. "Did your awareness first awaken… around 97.8 million years ago?"