Lord of the Truth

"Alright, alright—whose turn is it now?" Morgana clapped her hands with a gentle smile, her voice ringing like a soft bell across the training grounds.

"It's mine, Teacher!" One of the male students stepped forward from the dozens standing in formation. He was an imposing figure, towering close to two and a half meters tall—one of the rare few who could stand above Morgana in height.

Yet as soon as he approached her, that intimidating bulk and raw power seemed to melt away. His expression softened, his shoulders hunched in respect, and he even bent slightly, trying to make himself look smaller before her.

"Do you have any special instructions, Teacher?" His voice trembled with both eagerness and nervousness.

"Go and do what we've practiced!" Morgana reached out with both hands and pinched his cheeks playfully, a gesture that contrasted sharply with his enormous frame. "I'll stay here and watch every step you make. Don't disappoint me."

"….." The young man's eyes glistened, the whites shining like polished stone, then he raised his head and shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice booming across the arena like thunder,

"I'll devour him alive for you, Teacher!!"

"Substitute teacher Morgana." The sudden call came from beyond the edge of the combat arena. The voice was clear, steady, and carried authority. At the entrance, a man stood—neither teacher nor student—his cloak catching the faint wind. Morgana turned her head slightly, her golden hair swinging, as he continued, "The Head of the Academy wishes to see you in her office."

"Hmm?" Morgana arched her eyebrows with faint curiosity, then gave the messenger a graceful nod. "Alright, I'm coming." She turned back to her students with a wide sweep of her hand.

"Do your best, okay? Pour your whole soul into it. We'll review every detail of your battles together in the next lecture."

Her voice, warm yet commanding, lingered like an enchantment in their ears. Then she took two slow steps toward the messenger, and in the blink of an eye, her figure dissolved into shimmering motes of light.

"Ohhh, why did they have to summon her now?!" The groans of disappointment burst out all at once. Whether it was Morgana's students or her fans scattered across the stands, frustration washed over them like a tide. Some threw down their weapons, others smacked their foreheads, and a few fans in the higher seats went so far as to rip their precious tickets apart and storm out of the arena.

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Whoosh

Inside a softly lit room adorned with shelves of crystal scrolls and faintly glowing orbs, Morgana materialized, her long robes swaying gently as if she had simply stepped through a curtain of air. Immediately, she turned toward the source of the strongest presence in the room and bowed her head slightly.

"Hello, Mrs. Academy Head. I was told you wanted to see me."

"Morgana." Althera's calm, composed voice filled the chamber. She sat with an air of effortless authority behind her desk, a massive table carved from black soulwood that seemed to drink in the light. With a faint motion of her hand, she gestured ahead. "Have a seat."

In that direction, beside the desk, sat another man. His expression was as sharp as a drawn blade, his jaw tight, his gaze filled with irritation—it was Barok.

"Tsk~" Barok clicked his tongue, his lips curling as he glanced at Morgana. Then he turned back to Althera, his voice dripping with restrained anger.

"Couldn't you have waited until our meeting was finished before summoning someone else?"

"Am I supposed to move according to your convenience now, Barok?" Althera tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just enough to reveal her disdain. "I wanted her summoned, so I summoned her. Besides, our meeting is already over."

"…Did I come at a bad time?" Morgana approached with measured steps, her heels making no sound against the polished obsidian floor, until she reached the seat opposite Barok.

"No. Sit, I'll be with you in a moment." Althera gestured, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"How can it be over when we haven't reached an agreement?" Barok's voice rose, resonant with frustration. His broad chest heaved as he clenched his fists. "My request is simple for you—why won't you grant it?"

"How many Soul Borrowings have you given the Academy in the last century? No, the last millennium?" Althera's tone sharpened as if cutting through the air itself. "Even if you haven't been stingy with the Academy lately, for every single one of your borrowings you get a price greater than the market value. You've been bleeding us dry for ages, Barok. Why should I grant you exceptions now? Especially one of this magnitude."

"And who else deserves it more than me?!" Barok slammed his fist against the desk, and though he tried to restrain the blow, the entire soulwood table shuddered under his strength.

"Your Majesty, you know I've been trying to compress the Third Star for the last ten thousand years and failed at the last step many times, and now as I try again, 100% sure to success this time, I've failed to gather the needed Soul Emerald. Even after countless journeys, scouring every known and unknown specter farm across the spiral, I've come back empty-handed."

His voice cracked with both fury and desperation as he continued,

"…To the point that I was forced to descend into the cursed Specter Valley Planet and confront that witch they call the Specter Shepherd—and because of her sorcery, I was contaminated!" His fangs ground together audibly, a sound like stones being crushed.

"That witch… ah, if only I could catch her away from her specter army!! I would tear her apart with my bare hands!"

"..." Morgana, though silent, let her eyes drift over the chamber.

"That's not my problem." Althera leaned back in her chair, her long sleeves sliding like dark rivers over the armrests. She lifted her shoulders ever so slightly.

"You're demanding to take Soul Emeralds from the treasury equivalent to six hundred and fifty thousand units of soul essence—you know what that means. Even if you had six hundred and fifty million Pearls, you might not be able to gather that much emerald even if you searched the cosmos for decades."

"Why should I waste decades scouring the stars, and why squander such an outrageous fortune?" Barok's voice thundered louder this time, his chest rising and falling with barely contained fury. The sound of it rattled faintly against the polished shelves of the chamber. "Everything I desire—the Soul Emeralds, in all the amounts I could ever need—already lies safely in the Academy's treasury. With just a flick of your hand, with a single gesture, you could grant them to me!"

"Regardless," Althera replied coldly, her words cutting like winter steel. "The chances of success drop with every star you attempt to reach. Less than the one before it. You've already failed several times at the second star. Do you expect me to believe that now, after all these failures, you will suddenly succeed if I hand you such a fortune? Tell me, what exactly would I gain from giving away that much? Especially when you don't even intend to pay for it." The owl at her side cracked open its golden eyes, their glow filling the silence like a warning flame.

"The Academy would have a Three-Star Soul Master!!" Barok's answer came instantly, raw and desperate, his teeth flashing as if he were delivering a final argument. "Isn't that prize enough for you? The honor, the prestige, the power it would bring to your halls!"

"And…?" Althera leaned her head to the side, her expression calm, her voice dangerously unimpressed. "That only means you will become even busier. You'll vanish into endless dealings, forging ties with more academies and countless empires, grasping at influence far away while neglecting your duties here. And when that happens, the number of soul borrowings you provide us every year will shrink even further. I see no great benefit, only loss."

"Then raise the price of the borrowings!" Barok lashed out, one hand slicing through the air, his robes fluttering at the motion. "Raise it as high as I want! That way I won't need to waste my time negotiating with others, nor will I have to sell in the Soul Society auction halls! As for the Academy's treasury, do we even need to speak of prices?!"

"You already charge double the fair value!" For the first time in the exchange, Althera's composure cracked; her palm slammed down on the desk with a sharp crack that echoed across the chamber like a whip. "How far do you intend to bleed this Academy dry? You're demanding Soul Emeralds worth six hundred and fifty million Pearls as if they were a gift from the heavens! Have you lost your mind? Beyond their market value, Emeralds themselves are a currency of rarity beyond measure. If I gave you this much, there is every chance the Academy may never recover such a quantity again!"

"Tchhh…" Barok leaned back against his chair, a thin, dangerous smile curling across his lips as though he had expected resistance but not the force behind her words. "Unexpected, Your Majesty. To haggle with me as if these were trifles. Think carefully—what will you do with such a treasure if you do not grant it to me? Who else could claim to be more worthy? Give it to me, and you will secure a powerful ally."

"Perhaps." Althera shrugged her narrow shoulders, the movement slow and deliberate. Her gaze did not soften, though; it hardened, glinting like sharpened crystal. "But Morgana has been diligent of late. If she continues her hard work, perhaps I will give them to her instead." She leaned forward, her eyes locking with his, her voice pressing down like a heavy weight. "Rewarding a dedicated teacher is far better than squandering them on one who shirks his classes and withholds his borrowings."

Barok's jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring. "Is that how it is?" His gaze, dark and venomous, locked on Althera for several tense heartbeats before it snapped toward Morgana, who had remained quietly in her seat. He rose with a scrape of his chair, his aura bristling like a storm barely leashed.

"Remember this well, Your Majesty. Etch it deep in your mind. Those who support me on my path—I will never forget their kindness. But those who refuse me, those who stand in my way—they will find no place on the wave I shall ride when I claim dominion over the Soul World!"

His glare slid to Morgana's oversized hat, his lip curling in a sneer.

"Enjoy your diligent little one-star teacher. While she plays tea parties with her students and wastes her time in childish games, I will carve my inevitable road to the Third Star! Hmph!"

Whooosh! With a flick of Althera's hand, the entire chamber rippled. Barok's figure dissolved into the air, vanishing as if swallowed by the void.

The silence that followed was heavy, until Althera finally turned toward Morgana, her sternness softening into calm reassurance. "Do not trouble yourself with his words. That is his way—loud, venomous, and empty."

"It's fine, it's fine~" Morgana waved both hands twice, her ever-bright smile blooming across her face as though Barok's venom hadn't touched her in the slightest. "So then, Your Majesty… why exactly did you summon me?"