Lord of the Truth

Two hours later—

Woo~

The golden radiance in Robin's eyes, which had been focused like two piercing suns, began to fade little by little. The intensity weakened, as though the world itself was dimming, until finally it disappeared altogether.

Robin let out a long exhale, raised his left hand and rubbed the bridge between his eyes with deliberate slowness, massaging away the strain, while his right hand gently lowered the metallic tablet he had been holding. With careful precision, he placed it onto another tablet of equal size that rested across his thigh, the two heavy slabs clinking softly as they touched.

For a few minutes, Robin simply sat there, breathing deeply and evenly, letting the tension ease from his body. Each breath sounded like the controlled rhythm of someone who had seen far beyond the veil of ordinary sight. Only when his composure returned did he finally lift his head and glance around the hall.

He had stood in this throne room before… yet what stretched before him now was something altogether different. It wasn't just larger—it was monumental. The space itself felt as though it had expanded, swallowing up emptiness. The rows of side seats gleamed with luxurious carvings and velvet cushions, crafted to host emperors and kings, not simple envoys. The gateway loomed like the jaws of a divine beast, so massive it seemed it could swallow entire armies.

The ceiling soared higher than his memory recalled, and the artwork above—ah, the artwork—was no longer static. The paint shimmered faintly, the murals shifting like living things, heavenly figures and cosmic beasts flickering as though animated by hidden power.

There was no doubt. The hall had undergone countless renovations across the past three centuries. Perhaps in stages, perhaps one grand transformation at a time—but all deliberate, all meticulous. Robin didn't need to guess who had overseen it.

Emily's hand was all over this. Of all the palace chambers, she must have cherished this one the most, for it was here, in this sacred hall, that Robin received his followers, where subjects came to kneel, where rulers displayed their majesty. And judging by the refinement before him, she had not only maintained the hall—she had elevated it. She had done him proud.

Of course, it still could not rival the glorious majesty of Empress Althera's starry palace within the Dawn light Stellar Academy. That was a masterpiece on its own plane. Yet even so… Robin's eyes narrowed slightly. The difference was not insurmountable. Not anymore.

His gaze drifted downward toward a lively commotion not far away. There, the trio—Kristan, Emily, and Zara—huddled together in heated debate. They weren't whispering. Their voices rose, their hands gestured wildly, and between them lay piles of planetary artifacts glittering faintly with restrained power.

They argued fiercely about which planetary artifact should go to which branch of the Empire.

The Shadow Swords demanded priority. The Imperial Guard claimed entitlement. The three great armies all needed reinforcement. The police clamored for more tools of control. The Armies of the Cradle and the Grace could not be left behind either. The Sky Opening City had its own claims, as did the followers of the central headquarters. And there were more. Always more.

The irony made Robin smirk faintly. Just this very morning, not one of them had so much as dreamed of seeing planetary artifacts up close. It had been myth, legend, untouchable treasure. Now here they were, shoulders squared and voices sharp, drowning in riches they couldn't even decide how to distribute.

"Hey…" Robin's voice cut across the chamber, not loud, but commanding enough that the air seemed to bend toward him. "What do you three know about Richard? I haven't received a single report from him in quite some time. The last I heard, he was headed into the mid-belt—sector 101."

The effect was immediate. "….."

All three froze, their quarrel cut short as if struck by a blade. They turned toward each other instead of him, exchanging uncertain, guilty glances.

"About that…" Emily's voice came first, hesitant, heavy.

"What is it?" Robin's brows furrowed, a shadow hardening over his expression. He didn't like that tone—soft, cautious, withholding. "Did something happen to the boy?"

Emily shook her head quickly, almost desperately. "No. Nothing like that. It's just… His Highness Caesar issued Richard a strict warning. He told him that he must report his location, his situation, his health—either to him or to His Highness Theo—at least once a year. Otherwise, Caesar vowed to dispatch the Shadow Swords and the Imperial Guard to track him down and follow him everywhere he went."

"And then?" Robin's tone sharpened. Patience was never his strongest virtue, and the way Emily paused grated against his nerves.

"Richard eventually complied," Emily admitted, her brow knitting tighter. "After some initial stubbornness, he began sending updates. The reports have been steady since then. Every year, without fail, he uses the Soul Society to contact His Highness Theo. The messages are brief but consistent enough to assure us that he is alive."

Robin leaned forward. "Consistent? That's all? What are you telling me?"

Emily's lips pressed into a thin line. "…Yes. That's all. Each year he sends a short message to confirm he is fine. And if he happens to be in good spirits, he adds a tiny anecdote—perhaps a three-sentence story of something trivial that happened to him. And then, without fail… he vanishes once more."

Knock Knock

Robin remained still for a long moment, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his throne. At last, he exhaled and shook his head slowly, his expression darkening. "This will not do," he said in a low, firm voice. "Richard has already had more than enough time to act freely, to do whatever he pleases. He must be brought back under constant surveillance, or he must return to Jura where eyes can be kept on him. Richard is far too dangerous to be left to wander, unchecked, for so long."

He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as memories surfaced. From what Robin knew, Richard's mind was far from stable.

The shadows of his childhood had carved deep scars into him—scars that had fractured his soul, giving birth to another persona, one alien yet bound to him. A persona that did not think, did not reason, did not care for order or kinship… a persona that thirsted for blood.

And the worst-case scenario? That bloodthirsty persona might one day seize full control, suffocating Richard's true self entirely. If that day came, he would not simply be reckless; he would become a walking calamity, a disaster on par with Hedrick himself. Robin had not forgotten Hedrick—how an unchecked heart of madness could ravage worlds. And based on what Richard had already done to the citizens of the Azil tribe, the possibility was not distant. It was tangible, looming like a stormcloud ready to break.

Emily's voice broke the silence carefully, almost timidly. "His Highness Theo has already tried, Your Majesty. He sent several of his most trusted aides to monitor Richard. He even called upon associates of his in mid-belt sector 101 to attempt the same." She shook her head. "But the results were the same… no success. All who tried came back with the same story."

Robin's golden eyes flickered with a sharp light. "And what story is that?"

"That a girl travels with His Highness Richard," Emily said, her voice carrying both hesitation and unease. "Somehow, she senses them every time they draw near. Every time they believe they've cornered him, she acts—and then both she and Richard vanish again, as though the very ground cracked open and swallowed them whole. No trail. No residue. No sign. Nothing. The last confirmed sighting of His Highness Richard was thirty years ago—back then he was still in mid-belt sector 101. Since then, silence."

"A girl?" Robin's brows drew together so tightly that the lines on his forehead deepened. He turned his head away, his voice dropping into a growl. "…And I am supposed to feel reassured because Richard was seen in sector 101 three decades ago?"

Zara, who had been quiet until now, stepped forward hesitantly. "Father, do you want me to inform Second Brother Theo to issue new orders concerning our younger brother Richard?" Her voice wavered slightly. "I… I am beginning to worry about him as well."

"…No." Robin's reply was sharp, final. He lifted his head and his expression grew hard, every trace of patience stripped away. "I do not want Theo's orders. I want Theo himself. I want your Second Brother to stand before me in this hall and explain with his own mouth what is happening. I want answers. And above all, I want to know everything about this girl!" His tone cracked with a force that echoed through the throne hall, making the very air quiver.

Emily, unsettled, rose to her feet at once. "Then I shall prepare a formal summons for His Highness Theo immediately." She bowed, her intent clear—better to obey than linger before a sovereign whose temper was burning.

But Robin's voice snapped out again, commanding. "No. Wait. You will stay here. We still have matters of grave importance to address." His gaze turned away from her and he raised his voice slightly, "Malik."

The massive gate creaked open at once, and in stepped a handsome young man, his posture straight, his neatly kept black beard outlining sharp features. He bowed slightly. "Your command, Your Majesty."

Robin's eyes locked on him. "I want to see Theo. Use every method the Imperial Guards have at their disposal—send him messages, send him signals, I do not care. Whatever means you must. Deliver my summons." He paused for a moment, his expression shifting just slightly, showing a glimmer of consideration. "...If he is truly too burdened with his duties, it doesn't matter if he cannot come immediately. Just ensure that my message reaches him. I must know that he has heard me."

It was no secret that Theo's hands were full. At present, he was responsible for the intelligence and support of not one, but three great empires, each spanning its own sector. To expect him to be free at any moment was unreasonable. And yet, Robin knew well that excuses mattered little now—he needed Theo's presence or at least his acknowledgement.

"As you command." Malik bowed deeply, his voice steady, before stepping back and closing the towering gate behind him.

The hall fell quieter again. Robin leaned back slightly, his hand lifting to rub the space between his eyes with slow, deliberate motions. He massaged his brow as though trying to squeeze out the frustration that clouded his mind. He stayed that way for several seconds, eyes closed, his breathing controlled yet heavy. Then, with a small shake of his head—as if banishing the storm of darker thoughts—he opened his eyes once more.

A thin, artificial smile spread across his face as he turned back toward Emily, Zara, and Kristan. "Well then," he said softly, the edge of his tone hidden beneath practiced calm, "let us move on. I want to hear the latest reports concerning the Soul Masters of the Empire."