Lord of the Truth

"…Would you like to become my second disciple?"

"..." Shaddad's eyes quivered violently, as if struck by a bolt of disbelief. He struggled to lift a shaky finger and point awkwardly toward his own chest. "M-Me?" His voice came out thin and broken, barely more than a whisper. Realizing how pitiful it sounded, he swallowed hard, shook his head rapidly, and forced himself to try again with trembling effort. "A–Am I the one you mean? Do you truly mean me specifically?"

"Heh~" Robin exhaled softly, scratching the center of his forehead as his gaze dropped to the ground for a fleeting moment of embarrassment. "I've refused you many times in the past for personal reasons, alright? First— you're significantly older than me, by absurd margins. Teaching you, correcting you, and trying to guide you would've felt awkward and cumbersome. And back then, I had no idea what your temperament was like. I'm a harsh, blunt teacher, as you've seen countless times; my methods aren't comforting or gentle. Meanwhile, you've lived hundreds of thousands of years… You might have felt offended, insulted, or even felt I wasn't qualified to discipline you."

"…Second," he continued, his tone deepening, "you were far stronger than I was when we first crossed paths. Physically, as someone at the peak of World Cataclysm, you could've crushed me like a bug simply by placing your hand on me. So how exactly was I supposed to act as your mentor when you possessed strength many times greater? Those two reasons alone were more than enough for me to refuse you without hesitation when we first met in that quiet library."

"There's also a third reason," Jabba chimed in, proudly raising a finger like an overly eager student eager to impress. "You were traumatized by the student system because of me, and you didn't want to accept another disciple for fear of repeating the chaos. And right now, what you're doing is just trying to emotionally assure yourself that trauma is gone—by making a dramatic offer like this."

Craack. Robin rolled his neck slowly, trying to release the sudden annoyance before it erupted. He forced himself not to glare at Jabba, then turned back to Shaddad with a calmer expression, "…If you don't wish to become my disciple anymore, I truly won't hold it against you."

"I DO!!" Shaddad burst upright with explosive enthusiasm, his long-awaited moment slamming into him like a tidal wave. His eyes shimmered, a glossy layer of tears reflecting desperate relief. "That's all it was?! Such trivial reasons?! If it's about age, don't worry— strike me if you must, discipline me however you see fit! And if it's about my strength, I'll only ever use my power to help you, never to oppose you!"

"Hmph. Even if you did use your strength against me, you wouldn't be able to accomplish much right now." Robin tilted his head casually, almost tauntingly.

"…Well, that's simply because I don't want to injure you, of course, big bro— I mean… Master!!" Shaddad corrected himself quickly, voice cracking with joy.

"No," Robin waved, dismissing the idea entirely, "it's because you genuinely wouldn't manage to do anything at all."

A thick vein bulged across Shaddad's forehead, and his sharpened fangs clenched so tightly they nearly sparked. "…Don't attempt to provoke me, Master. It won't work. I have absolute control over my emotions. I refuse to be angered."

"Even if you did get angry," Robin smirked shamelessly, "you still wouldn't be able to do anything."

"Grrrhh…" Shaddad's fists began cracking, knuckles popping like thunder. "Master, perhaps you require a demonstration of the upgraded bear hug technique?"

"Uhh…" Jabba suddenly began sweating waterfalls, stepping forward swiftly as if his life and sanity depended on it, hugging the three colossal slabs to his chest like newborn children. "Let's maybe cool down the wrestling ideas, friends?" He glanced left and right nervously, then turned to Shaddad and nearly shouted, "The Master's in the second level now, man!!"

"…" Shaddad froze, then slowly lifted both hands overhead in surrender. He sucked in a calming breath, then burst into hearty laughter that echoed warmly. "Today truly is a wonderful, glorious day. How about I treat both of you to sandwiches? All expenses on me!"

"~Chicken~" Robin said with a taunting, almost mischievous smile on his face, his voice dripping with playful provocation as if he were nudging an old wound on purpose.

"Alright, that's enough nonsense. It's time for hugs!" Shaddad announced boldly. He stepped forward with his arms spread wide, every muscle in his towering frame tightening with anticipation. In his mind, he imagined the perfect embrace—firm enough to display his overwhelming physical superiority, yet careful and gentle enough not to irritate or disrespect his newly accepted master. A delicate balance, like wrestling a raging bull while trying not to bruise its ego.

Hoooom—

Suddenly, a shimmering soul gate snapped open behind Robin, the circular portal humming with deep, resonating power. Radiant spiritual light spilled over the floor like golden water. From within, a white-gold soul creature marched forward, wearing an ornate set of gleaming armor and holding a thin, elegant sword forged entirely from spiritual essence. Its physique was humanoid, sculpted like a veteran warrior, yet where a face should be, bundles of twitching tendrils extended downward from its neck like delicate, living whiskers that shivered with anticipation.

"Beat him thoroughly, but don't break any bones or cut the skin," Robin commanded calmly, his eyes flashing with sharp intent. "A few bruises are acceptable, nothing beyond that." Ever since attaining the rank of Royal Soul Master, his curiosity burned endlessly. He craved a challenge. And a peak World Cataclysm body-type cultivator was practically the perfect moving, breathing test dummy.

And frankly… modifying that obnoxiously large nose just a little would feel deeply satisfying.

A student should never forget that the teacher can destroy him at any moment. Respect mixed with a touch of fear—that was the proper foundation.

"Understood."

The sword dissolved into sparkling particles in the soul creature's hand. The tendrils sprouting from its shoulders coiled tightly, merging into the snarling shape of a massive bear's head. The creature opened its arms as well and closed the distance toward Shaddad with unnerving calmness.

"Eh?" Shaddad blinked, baffled. "A soul creature wants to wrestle me? That's just—"

CRAAAACK

"GHHH—AAAAAH!!!"

His scream echoed across the hall, bouncing off every surface mercilessly.

"Hehe," Robin chuckled, his laughter rumbling from his chest down to his stomach, shaking his shoulders. "A part of me has been desperately wanting to hear that scream for quite some time. Ahh… now my spirit feels completely refreshed. Wonderful."

Creeeaak—

Jabba dragged the three colossal slabs across the floor with noisy difficulty until he stood beside Robin, panting softly. "Is this some kind of traditional initiation ritual for welcoming new disciples?"

"Well," Robin replied, patting Jabba's back twice with a heavy hand, "when a disciple starts believing he's stronger than his master… smarter… wiser… when he begins to think he no longer needs guidance, terrible things unfold. Don't you agree? So this time, I'm establishing the rules clearly from the very beginning."

"..."

Jabba turned his eyes away, lips tightening slightly as if wrestling with a thought.

"Listen," Robin continued, his gaze fixed with meticulous focus on the precise hits Shaddad was taking, "about what you said earlier… I was not traumatized by the disciple-master system. What happened with you did sting, emotionally, I won't deny it. But I learned. I grew. I evolved. I would never accept another disciple unless I could control every variable around them."

Then he smiled, more sincerely this time.

"I don't become traumatized or crippled by failure. I learn, and I try again. And if I fail again, I learn even more, and I try again. There's simply no room in my heart for regrets or dwelling on the past. Maybe… that mindset is precisely why I am who I am?"

"..."

Jabba kept his gaze stubbornly turned away. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved that his teacher never formed a psychological scar because of him… or ashamed for having believed his presence mattered more than it actually did.

Perhaps, if he vanished from existence this very second, Robin would continue on—unshaken—without the slightest hiccup.

And honestly, after witnessing the master's accomplishments, the impossible distances he crossed, the monstrous achievements he accumulated during only three days, everything seemed to support that conclusion.

Maybe he truly had been exaggerating his own importance from the very beginning.

Creaaaak—

The door behind them opened, wooden hinges protesting, followed by the soft rhythm of footsteps descending the stairs gracefully.

"What is all this noise? What's happening down here?"

"Oh, sister Morgana," Jabba turned his head, desperately pushing away his heavy thoughts. "Little brother Shaddad is undergoing his ceremony to become the teacher's newest student."

"That mule will become His Majesty's disciple?" Morgana replied with thinly veiled annoyance—still clearly irritated ever since he assumed she was Robin's mother.

But when she saw Shaddad being pulverized into the polished floor of the lecture hall, her expression shifted instantly. Her lips curved, predatory and amused, "Heh~"