Lord of the Truth

"…Some beetles are tougher than they look." Robin said the words with a faint chuckle.

Then, with that same lightness, he turned toward Theo, his expression shifting into a tired but genuine smile.

"Now, be a good son and find me something decent to wear. My storage ring vanished with my old body, and frankly... I haven't felt this exposed in centuries."

He looked down at himself and sighed, not out of shame, but rather out of a curious amusement.

"Right away!" Theo's voice came sharp and quick, like a soldier snapping to attention. He didn't waste a second—his figure blinked out of existence, heading at full speed toward the Imperial Palace, where wardrobes upon wardrobes had been maintained specifically for his father.

Robin stood still, his body slightly swaying from the effort of staying upright. The massive explosion earlier had nearly shaken his soul out of its shell. The shock to his consciousness had been enough to blur the boundary between the soul and the physical. But the moment the healing rays of Greenland's Sun rose and swept across the capital, something clicked within him. His mind cleared. His balance returned. He could feel his body again.

He had felt it all as it happened. He sensed the gradual weaving of bones, the molding of muscles, the stitching of nerves. He even oversaw the re-formation of flesh as though he were a sculptor and the clay was his own body. And in the final stages, he managed the remains of his golden cloak—the only thing that had survived that brutal explosion and wrap it hastily around his lower half to maintain some decency.

That was all he wore now.

A simple scrap of radiant cloth, barely sufficient.

His entire upper body was exposed to the elements—pale, devoid of tattoos. The powerful physique he had once possessed, honed over decades with reinforcement, was gone. This was a new body, untested, soft, vulnerable.

Renara, standing among the crowd, hadn't said a word.

Her lips were sealed, her breath shallow.

Her wide eyes refused to blink.

Just like everyone else.

Around her, the capital's great warriors, nobles, elders, and advisors stood silent. Some were still caught in disbelief, stunned by the impossible feat they had witnessed: the resurrection of a man who had been consumed by a planetary-level assault. Others were trapped in spiraling thoughts, reflecting on the monumental act of redirecting a cosmic force away from them all.

And some… were simply looking at Robin as if he were a fallen titan, now fragile, whom they had sworn to protect at any cost.

Renara was no different in posture.

But her silence came from a place no one else shared.

Because in her mind… something utterly unnatural had just happened.

That man—Robin—was conversing with a Being of Nexus State like an equal.

And the terrifying part?

It no longer felt absurd.

In the grand scheme of the universe, Nexus State experts were legendary figures. So rare, so exalted, that even the smallest mention of them caused ripples through star systems. And Renara, as someone deeply involved in galactic politics and power structures, had personally studied nearly every known Nexus State in Planetary Sector 100.

These were not just powerhouses.

They were living emblems of cosmic hierarchy.

In war, they were treated with protocols of their own. Entire armies shifted strategies based on their presence. The universe had laws—and then it had people who bent those laws, and these beings were the Nexus!

Among those few was Her—the woman in the black dress.

A sovereign of the Empire of the Destruction pit.

And now, Robin spoke to her as though they were old acquaintances, adversaries maybe, but equals nonetheless.

His tone was confident. Familiar. Even teasing.

Renara quickly realized something: at some point, that woman must've mocked Robin—perhaps calling him a beetle.

Which made sense.

Even Renara had once seen him as an ant. A small, stubborn ant trying to drag a boulder of sugar up a steep slope.

But not anymore.

"Robin Burton," the woman finally spoke, her voice losing its icy contempt and gaining something... heavier.

"Do you not realize how much you're exaggerating? You sacrificed everything—burned every card you had, threw away every ounce of your strength—just to stop one single attack from me. And yet here you are… acting as though you've won."

Robin tilted his head. A new light flickered behind his eyes, something tired but proud.

Then a brilliant smile stretched across his face—one that reached all the way to his spirit.

"…That's the first time you've said my name without mockery."

He chuckled gently, warmth in every syllable.

"Forgive me… but I'm definitely counting that as a win."

The woman twitched, barely.

She looked like she wanted to fire back, to crush the moment with a scathing retort—but something in her shifted.

Her rage faltered.

Her red-tinged eyes softened.

Then her voice returned—this time, not with anger, but with controlled curiosity, cloaked in authority.

"Redirecting my Nature Annihilation Orb…" she said, each word sharp and deliberate.

"An attack derived from the Destruction Path. Universally acknowledged as the most dominant force in terms of direct confrontation. It's commonly accepted that no law beneath the sixth-stage classification could even touch my attack, let alone shift it. Any such attempt should've been instantly torn apart."

She paused, letting the weight of her words hang.

"And yet you… someone who, at the time, was no more than Level 23… managed to take the attack somewhere else, somewhere far...."

Her voice, now filled with bewildered intensity, asked one final question—

"How?"

"The power of love, I guess?"

Robin gave an exaggerated shrug, his tone drenched in sarcasm.

"I looked into the eyes of my children... my friends... and I saw pure fear. I just couldn't stand it. I wanted to stand in front of them, to shield them from the wicked witch descending from the skies. And in that moment, something inside me exploded — power I didn't even know I had."

Of course, there was no way he was actually going to tell her the truth.

What, tell her about the Spacetime Law? That would be the definition of stupidity.

If that was the only option... maybe being dead again was a better fate.

"Oh?"

The woman in the black cloak tilted her head slightly. Her gaze sharpened, and a strange shimmer flickered behind her eyes.

"I didn't realize love had officially been recognized as a Master Law."

"…!!!"

The words hit Robin like a thunderclap.

And he wasn't the only one.

"A… Master Law?"

Renara's whisper was barely audible, but it was filled with horror, curiosity, and disbelief. Her eyes flickered back and forth between Robin and the woman, and her thoughts began to spiral.

Something dark… something terrifying… was taking shape in her mind.

Robin tried to keep his cool, forcing an awkward smile onto his lips.

"Well, yes. I am a user of a Master Law after all. Thank you for such a... smart observation."

He tried to say it with his usual confidence, but even he could feel the tension rising. The atmosphere had become suffocating.

"Oh no, don't flatter yourself," the woman said with a sinister smile.

"I'm not talking about that pathetic little Law of Truth you're clinging to."

She waved her hand dismissively, as if swatting a fly.

"At best, it bought you a few seconds. That's what that golden shell was for, wasn't it? But that thing couldn't possibly shift my Nature's Annihilation... not at your level at least."

Her voice was cutting now, every syllable a scalpel.

"Let's break this down, shall we?"

She began to pace slowly through the air, as though walking on an invisible staircase. Her voice rang loud and clear.

"Planetary gifts? Yes, your soul is strong enough to summon a gift with the might of a World Cataclysm, but that kind of power was already shown to be ineffective—remember the blue carpet?"

"A divine artifact, then? A relic? A talisman of old?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"How would you even activate something like that in front of me without me seeing? Not to mention—how would someone at Level 23 trigger a weapon capable of bending my attack and hurling it hundreds of miles away?"

She paused for effect, and her voice dropped into a whisper.

"So tell me, Robin Burton... what's left? What are you hiding?"

Then, like a hammer striking stone, she delivered the real question:

"If not Truth... then which of the other eight Master Laws have you touched?"

"What?!"

Renara gasped, and this time it wasn't just from shock — it was from understanding.

She was the only one in the entire plaza who truly understood what that meant.

To wield the Law of Truth was to be chosen. It was a divine honor, not something one could learn or inherit. No one fought over Truth itself — they fought for the people who held it.

But the other Master Laws?

They could be studied.

They could be passed on.

If Robin had discovered one then he could write down techniques, create tomes of cultivation, and spread its use across empires. That single act would throw the entire balance of the Middle Belt into chaos.

"That's your speculation," Robin replied coolly, holding her gaze.

He shrugged again, this time more playfully, raising a brow.

"Say whatever you want. But without solid proof, your words don't carry any weight."

Then he narrowed his eyes slightly and added,

"Why don't we return to the point and set aside your little theories?"

The woman smirked. She let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it — only danger.

"Very well… Robin Burton. Let's focus on the point."

She raised her chin, voice becoming formal and commanding again.

"Here's my new offer, then. Since you seem so disgusted by the idea of kneeling, let's forget about kneeling. No kneeling. No humiliation."

She paused, letting her words hang in the air.

"All I want is ninety percent—yes, ninety—of the total tax income of your True Beginning Empire, in exchange for my protection."

Then, with a wicked grin, she added:

"And I want you… to be my personal assistant."