Lord of the Truth

Sector 101 Midline — Planet Shathar

"...." Hedrick leaned heavily against the edge of the vast map platform, his gaze locked onto the sea of lights shimmering before him.

What unfolded across the projection wasn't a map of his usual starfield, nor a detailed chart of the stellar hubs in Sector 101, nor even the perimeter map of Verilion. No—what stretched out before his eyes was something far more chaotic: countless luminous points scattered like stars in a dying galaxy, clustered densely in one area and eerily void in another.

The reflection of those lights shimmered in his crimson eyes—two blazing rubies filled with undying will, still burning with the restless hunger of a warrior who had never known defeat. Even now, that battle-born spark within him refused to fade. His long white hair, tied neatly behind his head, framed his sharp, determined face, and every line of his body radiated tension, like a predator ready to leap the moment prey dared to move.

And yet… the calm that once defined him was gone. Beneath that icy façade, the great Hedrick was sweating. A faint sheen glistened across his forehead, betraying the unease that rippled beneath his disciplined exterior.

Tap

"Lord Hedrick, did you summon me?"

The voice came suddenly from beyond the colossal doors of the throne hall, echoing with respect but also urgency.

"Theo, come in." Hedrick's tone lifted slightly, a trace of relief slipping through. His expression softened for the first time in hours, as though the mere presence of that name promised a measure of clarity amidst the confusion.

Whoosh — without the slightest creak or gesture, a long shadow slipped beneath the doors and cut across the polished floor like a spear of darkness, halting right behind Hedrick before rising and solidifying into human form.

"How may I assist you, lord?" the shadow murmured as it became Theo, his voice calm as still water.

"I want you to explain the current situation," Hedrick demanded, exhaling a slow, tense breath. "Reports keep reaching me in fragments—bits of information here and there every few minutes. It's impossible to form a full picture. I hate that kind of blindness."

"…There are very few who possess your mind, Lord Hedrick—your sharp intellect and unyielding command," Theo replied evenly. "You remind me of my brother, Caesar. Dispersed data shouldn't be an obstacle for a commander of your stature…" He paused slightly, his eyes glinting beneath the shadows. "…Or have you begun doubting yourself after assembling the fragments and realizing what the complete image reveals?"

"Just start talking," Hedrick snapped, straightening his posture. He lifted his open hand toward the projection, his voice cutting through the silence. "Something here is wrong. I can feel it."

"As you command."

Theo stepped closer, his cloak brushing faintly against the metallic floor as he leaned over the platform. He studied the projection with keen focus, his expression unreadable. "Hmm…" After a few silent moments—without touching a single control—he gave a slow nod. "The map is flawless. Every coordinate, every alignment, perfectly placed. I should have known—something this precise would never elude your lordship's senses."

"Are you telling me…" Hedrick's tone rose as he pointed again toward the illuminated surface, "that this is our current situation?!"

"Without question." Theo gestured toward the glowing clusters on the left side of the display. "These represent Lord Zarion's forces—along with the armies of his allied coalition. Over the past several years, we've been able to slow their advance through carefully orchestrated operations—swift strikes to their flanks followed by tactical withdrawals—under the command of Marshal Tharn and Marshal Livia. Our intelligence division has supported those operations by triggering ammunition depot explosions aboard several of their flagships, as well as sabotaging and destroying a number of their military outposts."

He paused, then continued with grave composure, "But even with all of that… they're still advancing. Their numbers stand now at approximately 1,600 fleets, and they've seized control of seventy additional planets in just the last ten years."

"..." Hedrick's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together.

Compared to the initial six thousand fleets he had once prepared to face, sixteen hundred seemed almost merciful—yet that illusion dissolved instantly. Sixteen hundred fleets was still a force of unimaginable scale—each one a floating citadel armed with enough firepower to level continents.

He cast a sharp, accusing glance toward Theo. "Their numbers would've been far less if not for your insistence on blocking the retreat of those who tried to fall back from Mid-Sector 100!"

From the very beginning of this long, grueling war, the Shadow Swords had acted with impeccable logic and ruthless efficiency. Every maneuver they made was cold, calculated, and strategically sound—except one: Theo's order to divert forces to strike down any fleet attempting to withdraw to Mid-Sector 100. Those who turned back were intercepted, forced to return to the front lines, hunted down, and annihilated completely.

That single decision had left nearly three hundred fleets trapped—fleets that wished to retreat but couldn't.

It was, in essence, an act that served only to strengthen Zarion's dominion—allowing him to consolidate control over his commanders and bind them under his leadership.

"This is but a small service to us, Lord Hedrick," Theo said with a faint, composed smile that carried both confidence and mystery. "In return, we've been systematically crushing their morale—day after day—by spreading word of the chaos unfolding in Mid-Sector 100, and the steady collapse of their once-proud empires. One by one, they fall, and their soldiers lose the will to fight. Our agents make sure that every whisper, every rumor, every transmission feeds their despair. Add to that the traps we've been planting in their equipment, the sabotage of their communication lines, and the silent erasure of every guard post they abandon. Tell me, can such forces still be considered a strike group of three hundred fleets? Their morale has sunk lower than dust, their ranks are riddled with exhaustion, and their losses mount with every passing day. They are no longer a spearhead, Lord Hedrick—they are a fracture in the coalition's blade. If Lord Zarion had the freedom to act as he wished, he would have cast them aside long ago."

"Hmph." Hedrick's eyes flared, a sharp gleam reflecting the red of the star maps. "Your elegant words do nothing to hide the truth," he snapped, his voice low but heavy with restrained fury. "You're using the Crumbled Dreams Empire's army as a tool—to prop up the Centennial Cradle Empire! How dare you, Theo? How can you stand there, look at my position, my battlefield, and the first thought that crosses your mind is how to assist an empire sitting comfortably in another sector entirely?!"

"..." Theo remained perfectly silent, his face unreadable. The air between them grew dense and heavy, as though even sound itself feared to linger.

"…?!" Of course, Hedrick read that silence exactly as he expected. To him, Theo's lack of words spoke louder than any argument. It was the same as saying: we will continue doing as we see fit—no matter what you say. Words, he realized bitterly, would be useless here.

For a fleeting moment, rage welled inside him, and he almost rose from his place—ready to shout, to slam his hand on the console, to remind Theo who truly commanded this war. But he stopped himself at the last heartbeat. He couldn't afford it. Not now.

The Shadow Swords were not just another division of assassins—they were the hidden spine of the entire conflict. Their influence stretched far beyond the reach of his armies; their intelligence, their infiltration, their manipulation of enemy networks—losing them would mean blindness, paralysis, and eventual collapse.

Theo knew this perfectly well. That was why he could make such unreasonable requests—and still stand there calmly, without fear of reprimand.

"…Fine… fine…" Hedrick muttered, rubbing his forehead with a weary hand. His fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose as he forced his breathing to slow. Then he pointed toward another cluster of flickering lights on the map display. "What about these?"

It was the only comfort he could find—the thought that at least the Shadow Swords were relentlessly targeting those fleets, crippling them bit by bit until they were nearly inoperative. Was that truly enough? Perhaps. But there was no use in arguing further; the wheels of war would keep turning regardless of his frustration.

"These…" Theo began, stepping forward slightly. His hand rose to indicate a group of luminous dots gathering near the bottom of the projection. They were farther out, yet clearly moving with remarkable speed toward the southern borders of the empire. "They are the fleets that once encircled Planet Verilion. Based on official records—the permanent stationed garrisons combined with their incoming reinforcements—they should total somewhere between four hundred and four hundred and fifty fleets."

He paused for a moment, placing one hand behind his back as the light of the hologram shimmered across his face. "But according to our intelligence," he continued, "their real numbers are far smaller—around three hundred at most. Once we account for the losses they suffered against our forces, the destruction inflicted by the space beast, and the heavily damaged ships that are no longer operational, the picture becomes clear. Their morale is crumbling as well. After witnessing that monstrous creature and after losing their marshal, fear has seeped deep into their ranks. Even among their elites, several Nexus State users and World Cataclysms are gravely wounded. They're still receiving treatment and have yet to recover fully."

"...?" Hedrick turned toward him sharply, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "How do you know all that? Their morale, their medical status, the exact number of crippled vessels? The latest reports claim those fleets haven't stopped moving since the space beast incident!"

"...."

Theo's lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile—but he said nothing.