Lord of the Truth

After half an hour—

Pam!

Raiden landed with a thunderous impact on the warship's upper deck, the shock rippling across the metallic surface beneath his boots. He straightened slightly, lowering his head in respect. "Lady Rinara."

"..." Rinara didn't immediately turn to face him. Her long silver hair fluttered in the cold wind that swept across the command deck, glinting under the faint crimson light of the twin suns. She merely gave a slight nod, her gaze still fixed on the battlefield below — a shattered wasteland of smoke, molten earth, and fading screams.

"May I ask," Raiden began, clasping his hands neatly behind his back, his tone perfectly formal, "why you ordered those troops to intervene in the middle of the engagement, my lady?"

After hundreds of years of endless war and slaughter, Raiden's youthful light had long since burned away. The warmth that once existed in his voice was replaced by a steady, battle-forged calm. His body bore the heavy aura of countless campaigns; his face was cut sharp like steel, his stance like a pillar rooted in the heart of storms.

"A strange question, coming from you," Rinara replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "You've just had tens of thousands of your soldiers saved from certain death. Why is there no trace of gratitude in your voice?"

"Not tens of thousands," Raiden corrected coldly. "At most nine or ten thousand. And with all due respect, my lady, the purpose of today's battle was to temper the new recruits, not to seize territory or win glory." His expression was stone, devoid of warmth. "The planetary occupation assault begins in three days — once the reinforcements arrive, as you're well aware."

"That gives you the right," Rinara's voice sharpened, "to abandon ten thousand soldiers to die and watch ten thousand epic armor sets be reduced to scrap? That kind of reasoning is not just reckless — it's dangerous."

Raiden didn't flinch. "My soldiers must learn to depend on themselves, my lady. If we teach them that salvation always comes from nonhuman allies, we are admitting weakness — planting in them the belief that humanity is a lesser race. That is something I will never allow. The special forces were already on their way to intercept the enemy's advance. They, too, are young and made their share of mistakes. But they must witness the cost of delay — see it in the blood and torn limbs of their comrades. Only through that pain do we forge true elites."

The truth was, Raiden — the first general to ever reach the Mid Belt — had spent centuries experimenting with every conceivable tactic to prevent the mass casualties that struck armies when the temporal elixir's effects ended.

He tried dividing armies in half — one line fighting, the other held in reserve — but enemies always found a way to intercept, cutting off the advance or trapping the retreat.

He placed veterans among the recruits, hoping their guidance would stabilize the exchange, yet the enemy was quick to notice and target the veterans first, crippling the formation.

He even designed small autonomous squads of a hundred fighters each, rotating between combat and rest, but discipline broke too easily under pressure.

In the end, he accepted the brutal truth: only real bloodshed could create mastery. Throw the inexperienced into chaos — let half die, and the other half would emerge tempered like forged iron. That was the cruel arithmetic of survival. And that surviving half would not be ordinary soldiers; they would be the blades of humanity — the race deemed the weakest in the cosmos, a race without a single unified empire — and yet, in time, those same fragile beings would conquer starfields and tear apart stellar domains piece by piece.

Yes, tens of millions had perished in pursuit of that ideal. And yes, hundreds of millions more would follow. But to Raiden, it was inevitable. That was humanity's path — their burden, their destiny. The weak must die so that the strong may rise.

"I'll take your words as… arrogant gratitude," Rinara said icily, finally turning her head toward him, her eyes glimmering with quiet disdain.

Raiden's brows drew together slightly, but his tone remained controlled. "If Your Grace believes there was no wrongdoing, then I will have no choice but to file a report directly to His Highness, Caesar, for final judgment."

"Good for me." Rinara gave a single approving nod. "Just be sure to include in that report the number of lives I saved today."

"Of course, my lady. The report will be entirely impartial." Raiden raised his arm in a crisp salute, then turned and stepped onto the deck's railing. With one powerful leap, he vanished into the smoky horizon below.

Step step

From behind Rinara, a figure approached — a woman of the Kiumaji race, her presence emanating quiet power. She appeared in her early thirties, dressed in black-and-gold battle armor that shimmered faintly with energy. Eight long tails swayed behind her, moving with slow, deliberate grace. In her gloved hands, she carried a small sealed box.

"My lady," the woman said with a bow, "your serum has arrived."

"Finally." For the first time in hours, Rinara turned fully from the panoramic view of the battlefield. Her lips curved into a faint, relieved smile as she stepped forward, boots echoing softly against the metallic floor. Two graceful strides carried her to the Kiumaji woman, and without hesitation, she reached forward as the box was opened before her, a subtle golden mist escaping into the air.

Huum...

Inside the ornate, rune-engraved box rested a single radiant blue vial — its light pulsed softly, like a sleeping heart beating beneath the glass. The liquid shimmered with countless microscopic motes of light, and if one stared too long, they could almost see ancient shapes swirling within it — the faint silhouette of a mountain frozen beneath glacial ages, sealed since the dawn of creation itself.

Bloo—

Without hesitation, Rinara lifted the vial, unsealed it with a sharp twist, and tilted her head back, drinking it in one graceful motion.

"Aaah~" Her lips parted slightly as a delicate sound escaped her throat, a sound both mesmerizing and dangerous. Her eyes closed halfway, her long lashes trembling as if savoring an ethereal ecstasy. If a man had stood nearby to hear that sound, he would have been driven to madness from its seductive power alone.

Ssshhhhhhh—

Moments later, the transformation began. Rinara's nine tails twitched, shivered violently, then flared outward as waves of pale golden energy coursed through them. They pulsed, expanded, and thickened visibly — veins of glowing essence traveling along their length like rivers of molten light, making each tail appear heavier, stronger, and more alive. Even the air around her vibrated faintly, humming to the rhythm of her empowered blood.

"Perfect…" Rinara finally opened her eyes, and a faint smile curved her lips. "Must I truly wait another ten years for one of these?"

"As you are aware, my lady," the woman behind her replied with care, slipping the empty box into her dimensional ring before standing with her head slightly bowed, "the Sky Opening City claims that a serum capable of affecting the density of your beast blood while in the Nexus State requires a lengthy and complicated refinement process. They say one dose per decade is the most they can safely provide."

"Hmph." Rinara exhaled sharply through her nose, turning back toward the chaotic battlefield below. "Do you honestly believe that?"

"No," the woman answered after a short pause, stepping closer until her shadow brushed against Rinara's armor. "I would wager they can create far more — and stronger, too. But Marshal Caesar prefers to treat the serum as a prize... or perhaps as a leash. A method of control disguised as a gift... But what can we do?"

Rinara's golden eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes… that sounds like him." She said nothing more, but her expression made it clear that she knew the truth — everyone did. The blood-density serums, derived from Devos and refined by the alchemists of the Sky Opening City, were the most sought-after creation in the empire. Everyone chased them, and everyone was bound by them.

Her sister must have endured at least a hundred years of humiliation, serving males on who know how many beds for the same benefits Rinara had just consumed from ONE dose.

"...My lady, I..." the woman behind her spoke again, voice hesitant yet burdened with worry.

"Hmm?" Rinara didn't turn. Her focus returned to the horizon, where distant bursts of light illuminated the mountains. She could feel the new power coursing within her veins, surging through her heart, reshaping her bloodline. Her mind was already weaving plans — ways to test the serum's potential, to measure what she had become.

"...Is it wise to challenge Marshal Caesar's command so openly?" The woman gestured toward the battlefield below, her voice almost trembling. "Once he receives Raiden's report, he may see you as defiant… and we—" she hesitated, swallowing dryly, "we honestly can not endure the Marshal's fury."