Lord of the Truth

"...Will that monkey be sticking around for much longer?"

"You mean Momo?" Robin asked with a faint smirk, as though the answer should be obvious.

"You should be thankful he's here. Back when he was alive, he was a silent assassin.

Now that he's a soul creature, his role has shifted. He's become a specialist in monitoring vital functions.

If something had gone wrong with you—if your heart had stopped, if your energy collapsed—he would've alerted me immediately. I'd have come running."

Robin waved his hand behind the bloated-belly monkey. A white portal, glowing faintly with golden outlines, shimmered into existence behind it. The monkey took one step backward, eyes still locked on the old man with a steady, unreadable stare. Then another step. And vanished into the portal.

Everything—the monkey's coloring, the portal's shimmering hue—was part of Robin's customized soul attire, rented through the Soul Society. He'd chosen a color scheme he liked, and applied it across all his soul manifestations—from gates to creatures.

"It monitors me to help... or to cheer if I finally drop dead?" the old man muttered with a wry smile before biting into the fish again, the meat flaking easily despite its odd appearance.

"Don't phrase it like that," Robin replied, exhaling slowly.

"If you died, I'd be stranded here.

Who else is going to get me off this absurd, sea-locked planet?"

He poked the fire with a stick and continued speaking, half to himself.

"I scanned the entire place—air, sea, energy lines. I didn't find a single beast taller than three meters. Not a single other island. Just water. Water for miles in every direction.

But I did find signs of giant landmasses torn away. Chunks of earth the size of continents—just gone.

Clearly, you were performing those sacrificial rituals long before I ever showed up."

Then, with a light flick of his wrist, a cluster of ancient-looking spatial rings floated into view.

"As for this lone island, all I found were a few dried skeletons—clutching these rings.

I assumed they weren't of any value to you anymore, so I took them.

I hope you don't mind."

He gave a short laugh and dismissed the rings with a gesture, placing them back into storage.

With another bite, he continued, his mouth half full, voice a little more amused now:

"But I have to say, your taste in disciples? Impeccable.

The wealth I found inside those rings—techniques, artifacts, treasures—suggests they were all powerful figures. Some must have been clan leaders or martial masters.

I even found three planetary-grade tools in the haul."

The old man went still, then finally spoke:

"...Each one I chose had a mind sharp enough to decipher the trials. To link the tests with the Law of Balance.

They were all geniuses.

Born to merchants, nobles, warlords, kings...

But in the end, none of them were destined to inherit Balance. Nееd сhаrасtеr shееts аnd glоssаriеs? Visit МV^LЕМ^РYR.

No matter how brilliant.

No matter how noble.

No matter how many levels I helped them with.

Not a single one was good enough to really handle it..."

His voice drifted. His eyes seemed tired.

"In any case... I have no use for that kind of wealth anymore. Keep it. It's yours."

"Thanks," Robin said without much warmth.

"But don't think this makes us even.

I just picked up a few leftovers from your backyard."

He pointed his skewer toward the old man, tone shifting.

"Speaking of which... what exactly happened back there?"

The old man raised the fish to his lips again—then paused.

"...I can't say for certain. But I have... suspicions."

"Oh? Suspicions?" Robin cut him off immediately. His tone sharp. Cold.

"Keep them. I'm no longer interested in your guesswork."

He tossed the last bit of his fish into the fire behind him and stood up.

"Just tell me—how do I activate the portal?"

The old man looked down, fingers curling slightly in the sand. His voice came slowly, as if each word weighed more than the last.

"I know you don't care much for the thoughts of an old man.

But I am the pinnacle of knowledge in this known universe.

I say this not from pride... but from frustration.

Frustration that we still understand nothing.

That we were born inside a prison so large, it pretends to be freedom.

A prison with a jailer we don't even know exists."

Robin said nothing. His lips pressed into a line. He listened, silently.

"You probably think I'm cruel.

Heartless.

Especially after what you saw. After what I tried to do to you.

After the bones... the rituals... the betrayal.

But understand... I've lived too long. Far, far too long.

And I've never done anything like this before, my disciples used to beg me for the teachings.

But time is no longer on my side.

And maybe, just maybe... it's not on any of our sides."

He turned to the sand, whispering like a confession:

"Our time... all of it... Might be running out."

Robin stiffened. His voice, suddenly urgent:

"...What do you mean?"

"The hundred-million-year myth of the Middle Belt... maybe it wasn't entirely a myth," the old man exhaled slowly, as if releasing a weight he had carried for too long.

"All of the Causality Law Users... every one of them—Sevar included—have said the same thing:

That all signs point to something monumental occurring at the 100-million mark."

He paused.

"What will happen? We don't know. Like you said, it's all just speculation."

"..."

"But if every user of Causality says the same thing... shouldn't we be cautious?"

The old man's voice was heavy, but steady.

"When I discovered that only 2.2 million years remained... and that I likely wouldn't survive long enough to see that point, given the damage festering inside me...

I wanted to hurry. I wanted to find a successor—someone who could wield a strong master law.

Someone who could lead.

Someone who could protect everyone...

from a catastrophe we know nothing about."

He looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I don't even know if Sevar will have the guts to crawl out of his hiding place.

And frankly... I'm not counting on Athena to take up the reins either.

She never has before."

Robin remained quiet but attentive, absorbing every word.

Sevar is hiding out of fear?

And who is Athena?

She didn't seem like the type who involved herself in anything...

And from the sound of it—she was the third master law user at the sixth stage?

She was still alive?

...It made sense. Once someone reaches the sixth stage of a sovereign law, who in the universe could actually kill them?

The old man let out another long sigh.

"If I don't find someone and make him strong enough before the 2.2-million-year threshold...

Then I'm afraid we've already lost.

I fear the cataclysm that once wiped out all life long ago... might repeat itself."

Robin frowned slightly.

"Maybe... maybe when we hit the hundred-million mark, all that happens is the gates to the Ancient Belt finally open, and we get to explore it," he said, trying to sound skeptical, even if a part of him didn't believe it.

The old man smiled faintly but offered no counterargument.

Instead, he asked, "You said you wanted to leave, right?"

"Yes, please," Robin replied instantly, voice firm and unapologetic.

The old man sighed again—long, deep, and tired.

"Everything I told you earlier... I only said it to give you my perspective.

So you wouldn't think of me as a villain.

Since the Law of Balance itself intervened for your sake, I won't try to force you down my path again.

I hold no grudge against you."

He looked at Robin with sincerity, his voice softening.

"Can you forgive an old man like me?"

"...You seem like a nice guy." Robin attempted a polite smile. "Just... get me out of here."

"You'll leave, Robin. You will." The old man nodded slowly.

"A young man like you doesn't belong on an island like this.

You still have so much ahead of you."

Then his eyes narrowed.

"But tell me—how can I make it up to you?

You were forced back down to level eleven.

I stole hundreds of years of progress from you.

I interrupted your path... your mission..."

He clenched his brows in frustration.

"But I have nothing to offer a Truth Chosen like you.

I'm not the kind who treasures artifacts and riches.

My legacy is... different.

It has nothing to do with material things."

Robin shifted uncomfortably, clearly growing impatient.

"It's fine. I'll figure something out. I forgive you. Let's just... move on, yeah?"

The old man fell silent for a moment, deep in thought.

Then slowly—deliberately—he smiled.

"...I think I've found something."