Lord of the Truth

"...Who the hell are they?!"

Robin pointed sharply toward the amphitheater, his voice low but laced with fire.

At that moment, within the circular stone coliseum beneath his private quarters, sat a motley gathering of youths—each one utterly distinct, as if chosen to represent a different corner of the universe.

A quick, practiced glance from Robin was enough to count them: 27 students, male and female, casually sprawled across the rows of the great structure like fallen leaves scattered by a chaotic wind.

Some had twisting horns of ivory or obsidian curling from their temples.

Others bore skin tones unknown to humanity—metallic blues, transparent golds, burning reds.

Many displayed strange and inhuman physical traits: tails of fire, luminous eyes, or crystalline limbs that shimmered in the light.

Yet all wore the standard robes of the Grand Academy—the only thread tying them together.

"Hmm?"

One of the boys lifted his head lazily from the stone bench, rubbing his eyes.

"Why're you yelling, brother? This is a chill zone, you know."

"Tch~"

The rest of the students reacted with synchronized disinterest—some turning away to resume naps, others thumbing through old tomes, a few casting annoyed glances at Robin like a buzzing fly had entered their peace.

The sight made the veins in Robin's forehead throb with rage.

A storm brewed in his eyes.

"Ha ha…"

Thankfully, Shaddad had already descended into the amphitheater and was laughing heartily.

"What? You never sensed them all these years?"

"Professor Shaddad!"

"Professor Shaddad."

The moment the massive half-bear reached the floor, the students all snapped upright like soldiers.

Backs straight. Hands clasped neatly behind their backs. Chins high.

A synchronized greeting followed—clearly drilled into them. A formality. A mark of discipline.

"Shaddad... What exactly is going on here?"

Robin's brows tightened.

His sharp eyes flitted sharply from one student to another, filled with suspicion and rising irritation.

"....."

The students exchanged quick glances—silent yet loud with meaning.

Who was this human who dared to address Professor Shaddad by name—bare, informal, and sharp in tone?

Had he no fear? Did he not value his life?

Each of them was a direct heir to planetary monarchs, bearers of ancient bloodlines, or offspring of renowned interstellar clans.

Every student had paid fortunes in wealth and favor just to study within these hallowed halls—

yet even they would never dare speak to a professor without the utmost reverence.

And yet…

Contrary to all their expectations, Shaddad kept the same gentle smile on his furry face.

No anger. No surprise.

"Heh heh… Don't worry about them," he said softly.

"If you're worried they tried entering your quarters—forget it. No student here would be reckless enough to try infiltrating a professor's chambers.

Everyone in the Academy knows better than to poke that bear."

He gently clapped Robin on the shoulder.

"Come, come. I'll explain everything. Let's talk over something warm."

"..."

Robin clenched his jaw, took one last glance toward the students, then turned and exited the amphitheater, his footsteps echoing with restrained fury.

"Hehhh~"

Shaddad exhaled deeply, watching his brother disappear through the gate.

Then he spun on his heel with a far more menacing look on his face and barked:

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you lazy brats?!

Go train! Practice! Meditate! Fight a wall if you have to—just stop embarrassing yourselves... and stop embarrassing your teacher while you're at it!!"

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and stomped after Robin.

"Phew~"

Only after Shaddad left did the tension in the amphitheater dissolve like mist in the sun.

"What was that all about?"

"Was that really our instructor…?"

"He left again. What a waste."

"Whatever. Not my problem."

Within moments, the reader returned to his book.

The napper resumed snoring.

The circle of indifference closed once more.

"...Professor Robin Burton's Building?"

Robin came to a sudden halt the moment he stepped through the outer gate of his tower.

There, on the side wall, hung a large engraved sign—bright, clean, and utterly offensive.

Annoyance surged across his features like a rising tide.

His voice tightened.

"Why… is this sign here? Why does it have my real name on it?!

Why are the doors wide open like a public inn?!

Why has the façade been cleaned up and remodeled like all the other faculty buildings?!

Did I agree to something I wasn't even aware of?!"

Before beginning his secluded cultivation, Robin had sealed his chamber with a layered sound barrier, extended his spiritual sense to the edges of the apartment, and shut out the entire world.

He didn't care what happened beyond that invisible wall.

His focus—his entire soul—had been locked on the study of Balance Patterns and rapid ascension of his cultivation realm.

But now…

It seemed that the world had moved on without asking for his permission.

"Maybe… Her Majesty the Monarch forgot to mention you were officially appointed as a professor, big brother Robin."

Shaddad finally caught up, his tone light and nonchalant.

"Everything you're seeing now? It's been this way for thirty years.

The building, the sign, the renovations, the open doors... all of it.

Oh, and the students you just saw in the amphitheater?

Those are yours."

"Mine? Like my students?!"Robin's tone was equal parts shock and disbelief."How can I possibly have students when I've never even announced the intention to give a single lecture?! I haven't held a single class—not even once!"He ran a hand through his hair in frustration."I haven't even picked a specialization! No subject, no focus area, nothing!So why are there twenty-seven fully sane, living individuals who willingly chose me as their teacher… even though I haven't shown my face in thirty entire years?!And why are they all packed together in an empty amphitheater like abandoned relics?!Ughhh…"

"Ha ha!"Shaddad let out his signature thunderous laugh, the kind that shook the air around him and turned heads even during festivals.With a smile tugging at his thick fur-covered face, he stepped forward and waved Robin along with a casual flick of his massive hand."Come on, come with me. I'll explain everything to you—properly."

"..."Robin gave the amphitheater one last sharp look.The students—those supposed 'disciples' of his—were already dozing off again, as if nothing had happened.He scoffed under his breath."Tch."Then turned and followed Shaddad, his steps heavy and irritated.

SwooooshCrack! Crack!Up above, the skies of the Academy exploded in dazzling fireworks, cascading in waves of light and sound.So many were fired off that the vibrant colors and thunderous echoes drowned out even the view of the stars and nearby celestial rings.It was hard to tell whether one was still on a planet—or floating in a celebration between worlds.

The massive garden adjacent to the teaching halls had been completely transformed.It now bustled with the energy of a true festival: vibrant stalls selling food, trinkets, potions, and games.And manning every one of these stalls were students in festival garb, shouting and smiling, hustling to attract customers.

Shaddad led Robin toward one stall in particular, one with a neat setup and several wooden chairs out front.He gestured politely for Robin to sit down, then leaned forward and shouted cheerfully:"Ten family-sized sandwiches and two hot drinks—right here!"

"On the way, Professor Shaddad!"A young girl inside the stall gave a sharp salute with her free hand before quickly returning to her cooking.

"Heh heh, good kids…"Shaddad dropped into the chair beside Robin, a wide, honest grin stretching across his face."There's something noble about the ones who run these stalls," he said, voice softening."They're usually from modest households—less prestigious, less wealthy.They take these festival shifts to earn extra credit, or more often, just enough to help cover their own expenses."

He glanced toward the back of the stall as the smells of roasting bread and sizzling meat drifted through the air."They organize events, clean the dorms, assist staff… anything to keep going.That's why we professors try to help however we can—by supporting their work, giving them chances like these… and tipping generously whenever possible."

"That's… actually kind of touching,"Robin admitted as he looked around.The atmosphere of the place, the spirit in the air—it did feel like a true festival."But there's no way I'm eating five of those. I'll just pay for them and let her keep the rest."

"Oh, don't worry about that,"Shaddad waved his hand dismissively, a slight blush on his cheeks."I ordered nine for myself and just one for you, heh heh."Then he leaned forward again, eyes glinting with amusement."So, what do you think of the Academy now?"

"Think of what?!"Robin leaned in slightly, raising a brow."I've only stepped outside for the first time today!"He crossed his arms."Now, answer me properly—what's going on with those misfits camped beneath my room?"

"It's really not complicated, big brother,"Shaddad replied, settling more comfortably in his chair."Thirty years ago, your academic building was officially cleaned and opened for use.They put your name on it—your full name—and left the doors open for enrollment."

Robin raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.

"For the first ten years, it remained completely empty.Every day, students and professors passed by, glanced at the building from a distance, and walked away, wondering whether the legendary Professor Robin would ever appear.

But after a full decade of silence—when it became clear you truly never showed your face—some of the students started enrolling under your name.They signed up because they thought… well, if the professor is always absent, they'd have absolute freedom. No rules. No lectures. No pressure."

"They enrolled because I was absent?!"Robin stared at him, stunned.His voice pitched up with a mixture of outrage and disbelief."Is that even allowed?! What kind of logic is that?!"