Lord of the Truth

"Your Majesty!!" Robin cried out, his voice sharp with alarm.

"Would you please, stop blurting out my secret identity? If I wanted every random soul I met to know who I really was, I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of crafting a secret persona in the first place!"

Althera turned to him, her expression calm and unreadable, carved from stone.

"Relax. Shaddad simply needs to know who you are, so he can request your aid with an open heart—and so he can be ready to support you if the time ever comes that you need it. Otherwise, that bear of a man carries a pride as towering as a mountain, one that flares up before any other Chosen. You saw it yourself, just moments ago."

"And who exactly decided that I'll need help? Or that he'll ever ask anything of me?" Robin countered, exasperated.

"Please, stop making decisions on behalf of others. The man standing here is a brilliant Truth Chosen, someone who has carved his own legacy with sweat and brilliance. He is a person worthy of respect and recognition, and he needs no favors from me—or anyone."

Robin gestured toward Shaddad with a firm motion, then turned to him with a respectful, apologetic tone:

"I apologize for this confusion. Please continue the excellent work you've been doing. I didn't come here to threaten your standing. I'm just passing through—quietly, for a few days, and then I'll be gone like the wind."

He already knew what to expect: curious eyes, uneasy glances, perhaps even subtle hostility in the days ahead. People would wonder why he moved freely through the library, why he was allowed access to the restricted archives.

The last thing he wanted was for a Truth Chosen to see him as some kind of rival.

Step... step...

Shaddad took two strides forward—massive steps from his towering frame that swallowed the distance between them in an instant—and then, in a voice like rolling thunder, he asked:

"Are you truly Human? That Lord Human? ...The creator of Breath of Ages?"

"Heh~ yeah, that's me." Robin exhaled deeply, a tired smirk tugging at his lips. The damage was clearly done—no turning back now.

"Then..." the towering man slowly reached into his deep coat pocket, producing a folded piece of paper and a sturdy pen.

"Please… I would like your autograph."

"I'm sorry—what?!" Robin blinked in disbelief, clearly stunned by the unexpected request.

That came entirely out of nowhere.

"Heh..." Althera let out a small, barely-contained laugh.

"Shaddad is, in fact, one of your biggest admirers. He's been following your work closely for months. Bought many of your publications just to dissect and understand them. He constantly praises your innovations—claims your method of pattern-linking is like nothing he's ever seen.

And of course, your legendary verbal duel with Lord Hedrick, followed by the historic sale of Breath of Ages for twelve billion Pearls—your fame exploded across the academies after that.

Shaddad didn't sleep for days. He was too busy passionately discussing every detail of the auction with anyone who'd listen."

She went on, a knowing glint in her eye:

"And truth be told, it's not just him. Every Truth Chosen I know, across every major academy, has taken a stance. They either admire you… or they can't stand even hearing your name. I don't think neutrality is an option for you anymore, not among your peers."

"That..." Robin hesitated, unsure what to say. He had long known that some of the Chosen bore resentment toward him—he'd experienced it firsthand within the Chamber of Truth, he already knows of two who hate his guts, and knows that at least one of them wants him dead.

But to think there were also those who genuinely admired him?

That… had not crossed his mind.

"Umm..." Robin scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered by the strange turn of events. He reached out, took the paper and pen, and signed:

"With all love and wishes of success — Human."

Then he neatly folded the page and handed it back with a respectful nod.

"I don't know if that holds any real value for an elite Truth Chosen like you… but here. I truly wish you both the riches and the recognition you deserve."

"Tch~ as if those scoundrels in the academy would ever let me sell anything freely." Shaddad clicked his tongue, then chuckled lightly.

"Even if I could sell it, nothing I own compares to Breath of Ages. That's more than a technique—it's a masterpiece, a relic of genius." Hеlp us оut by rеаding оn М|V|LЕМ5РYR.

He accepted the autograph with both hands, handling it with the reverence of a sacred relic.

Althera nodded solemnly, adding in a formal tone:

"Human has indeed created many great works... or perhaps I should now call you Lord Robin Burton? Even your array—Colonizing the Uncolonizable—is the very definition of brilliance. The Dawn light Stellar Academy purchased several ready-made units of it, and has since colonized a number of nearby planets using its framework. Thanks to your innovation, our resource flow has surged dramatically in recent cycles."

She then turned toward Shaddad again, a playful smile tugging at her lips:

"Unlike someone here… lost in his daydreams about the mythical 'Body Path' and contributing nothing of tangible value to our cause."

"Oh, it's really nothing worth mentioning," Robin said with a humble wave, his voice light, almost dismissive.

"Brother Shaddad here could probably construct arrays far superior to that one—just give him enough time, haha."

He laughed heartily and gestured broadly with his hand, clearly eager to shift the spotlight away from himself. The last thing he wanted was to be drawn into a technical rivalry with the local Truth Chosen.

Suddenly, without warning—

"There's one last thing."

A thunderous voice exploded through the chamber like a war drum, firm and commanding, demanding all attention. Every head instinctively turned toward its source.

Shaddad took another step forward—one powerful stride that brought him uncomfortably close to Robin, reducing the space between them to nothing.

Robin froze. The man's massive frame loomed over him like a living mountain, and he could now feel the warmth of Shaddad's breath grazing the top of his head.

"...."

Robin furrowed his brow slightly. Something was off. Was Shaddad getting provoked by Althera's subtle nudges? She had clearly been trying to fan the flames of competition between them for some reason—maybe to spark growth, or maybe just for her own amusement.

But it didn't matter. If Shaddad decided to play the role of rival, Robin would remind him exactly who he was dealing with.

The bear-like man clenched his brows tightly, an intense expression twisting across his rugged face. Then, with deliberate slowness, he began to lean forward.

Robin tensed up immediately—ready to react. Was he about to whisper a threat? Was this some kind of dominance display?

But instead of stopping, Shaddad kept lowering himself…

Lower and lower…

Until Robin could see the crown of his thick, shaggy hair.

"Huh…?" Robin murmured in confusion.

And then, without warning—

"PLEASE TAKE ME AS YOUR DISCIPLE!!"

The roar shook the air like a physical force.

"Whaaaaat?!"

Robin jerked back two full steps, eyes wide, caught completely off guard by the sudden outburst.

"That's a wonderful idea!"

Althera clapped her hands together with delight, her eyes gleaming.

"You guide him in theoretical research, he helps you navigate the academy's intricacies. A perfect partnership! Win-win!"

"I don't take disciples based on who helps me find the cafeteria, thank you very much!"

Robin snapped at her, clearly flustered, then quickly turned back to Shaddad and forced a strained, diplomatic smile.

"Shaddad, right? Brother Shaddad—look, let's keep it simple. Colleagues. Fellow travelers on the path of knowledge. I may ask you for guidance at times, and if you ever need anything from me, just ask—no titles, no hierarchy.

Let's help each other soar, unlocking our creativity together and pushing the limits of what's possible!"

"Brothers… and… soar with our creativity?"

Shaddad slowly stood upright again, his expression unreadable as he processed Robin's words. His brows remained tightly knit, as if wrestling with internal conflict.

Then, suddenly—

"JUST SAY I'M UNWORTHY AND END THIS PAIN!!"

He bellowed in frustration, voice shaking the very shelves nearby.

"Okay, that was a bit dramatic," Robin said dryly, taking a few cautious steps toward Althera.

"Are we leaving this place or not?"

"Heh," Althera chuckled softly, clearly amused by the entire scene.

"Don't take it personally. It's just the nature of his kind. He doesn't stay mad for more than a few seconds—emotions flare, then vanish like sparks."

And sure enough—before even a heartbeat had passed—

Shaddad suddenly reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out. He extended it toward Robin with both hands.

"Would you like a cake?"

"...No thank you. Maybe later."

Robin muttered, tugging Althera's arm with quiet desperation.

"Please… can we leave now?"

"Very well."

Althera gave a graceful nod, then pointed sternly at Shaddad like a teacher scolding a child.

"Stay here. Reflect on your terrible sense of timing, and prepare properly for your next meeting with Mr. Burton. Understood?"

Shaddad's eyebrows clenched even tighter as he raised his voice.

"What do you mean by—"

But he didn't get the chance to finish.

WHOOSH!

"What the—?"

Robin blinked rapidly, his vision spinning for a heartbeat as the entire world around him shifted.

One moment he had been standing face-to-face with a towering bear of a man, surrounded by endless shelves of ancient tomes...

And now—

Now, he stood in a dimly lit chamber. A room devoid of windows or doors. Silent. Sealed. Shadowed.