Lord of the Truth

35 years later--

"..." Robin continued reading slowly… agonizingly, painstakingly slow. So slow, in fact, that he would linger on a single word for two, sometimes even three full seconds before daring to move on to the next.

It wasn't because he needed extra time to understand or analyze—he wasn't reflecting deeply on metaphors or unraveling complex arguments. No… it was simply because he couldn't. He couldn't read any faster, not with that damned, cursed tome burning through his brain like molten metal.

After what felt like centuries, he finally read the last word on the last line of the final page. Robin closed the heavy, ancient cover with the kind of reverence reserved for forbidden relics.

Then, he just sat there in complete stillness. A few long moments passed.

His face had gone pale, almost ashen, and exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. His entire expression seemed locked in a fierce inner battle, as if he were wrestling some invisible force threatening to tear him apart.

And then suddenly—

"UUUGHH!!" Robin dropped to the ground, collapsing like a broken tower, and began to vomit violently, uncontrollably. "Uuuaaagghh!!"

It didn't stop. Not quickly.

Minutes passed as everything he had eaten—every bit of food, every drop of water, and even some blood—was wrenched from his body in wave after agonizing wave.

When it was finally over, Robin wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, slumped against the book-lined wall, and sat there like a man broken in both body and soul. He began to mutter through gritted teeth:

"That... filthy... disgusting... bastard!!"

Each word cracked louder than the last, until his final curse erupted like thunder from his throat.

Whooom

A shimmering portal appeared beside him—white as fresh snow, rimmed in radiant gold.

Two humanoid soul creatures emerged immediately. Without hesitation, they began cleaning the mess, working swiftly and precisely, gathering the foul contents into a gleaming bucket crafted from pure soul force.

Then—POP—Robin flicked his fingers, and with a brief spatial technique, teleported the bucket away.

It reappeared a moment later in the distant gardens of the academy—falling directly on a group of unfortunate girls, soaking them in a most unexpected, unwanted rain.

"Cough cough..." Robin choked slightly, watching his soul creatures vanish back into his spiritual domain, followed quickly by the bucket.

The golden-edged portal closed behind them with a soft hum. Robin shut his eyes and focused on regaining his breath.

That book…

That hideous, brilliant, soul-breaking book… was a masterpiece.

It wasn't just a guide—it was an ancient weapon of insight, forged to reveal the origin of soul power, and most notably, the true mechanism behind the instantaneous shift from white soul energy to silver.

It also explained why that transformation happened at all—something Robin had never been able to truly grasp despite centuries of practice and contemplation.

Now, after spending more than three decades inside that cursed archive…

He understood more about the foundation of soul force than he ever had before.

This wasn't the work of some veteran cultivator or aging sage. No. This was the product of a monster—an absolute Ruler of the path.

Robin could feel it.

He had felt it in his bones, in his soul, in every painful second… for thirty-five relentless years.

"If there's a hell... I hope you rot in it, sideways, burning in every direction!!" Robin screamed, lifting his hand skyward in fury.

It was so obvious now.

The writer of this book had been forced to produce it. Likely, he had read something rare and invaluable from the archive and was bound by law or oath to repay it in kind.

So what did he do?

He poured every single drop of insight and wisdom from his entire lifetime into one soul-shattering tome.

The result?

A book so dense and powerful, it deserved to be hailed as a divine artifact, not just a mere volume in an archive.

But because he was obligated, the author left behind a malicious curse—a hidden toll on any who dared to read it.

Not just a curse of the body, but of the soul.

Every word felt like a dagger, every paragraph like walking barefoot across a field of shattered glass.

Voltar hadn't lied—when he said Robin would burn through energy with every few pages, he was actually being generous.

Robin could barely read a single page before being drained completely.

And still… he pressed on.

Because with each word he finished, with each idea he wrestled into his soul, he understood just how priceless this knowledge was.

So he endured.

Thirty-five entire years—given not to battle, not to cultivation, but to reading.

And in the process, he gained more than just knowledge.

He gained an iron resolve.

He gained resistance—a shield forged through agony against curses of the highest tier.

"Hooooh..." Robin exhaled long and hard, finally casting his gaze toward the two remaining books still resting in the archive's sacred vault.

They sat silently, ominously—two more monstrous tomes, each said to rival the one he had just finished.

If the first had unveiled the origin of soul energy, and the transition from white to silver…

Then the second book likely explored silver soul power in its entirety. And if fate smiled on him, it might even reveal the moment of ascension to Royal Purple—soul energy at its peak.

"Tch." Robin spat the last drop of blood in his mouth, then rose unsteadily to his feet.

He lifted the colossal book from the desk with great care and carried it back to its original place on the wall.

Whoosh

The empty space in the stone shelf accepted the tome at once. A click echoed out softly, and the wall returned to its unbroken, eternal stillness—like it had never been disturbed.

"..." Robin stared at the book beside him for a long moment, then reached out toward it.

BZZT BAM!

"Ouch!" Instantly, he found himself slammed against the opposite wall, his entire body trembling as if struck by lightning!

Woooh

"Hehe, cheating won't work here! One book per person! Hehe, at least finish the one you already--!"

As if that wasn't enough, Voltar appeared in the room, smirking mockingly at him.

But his grin vanished quickly when he noticed the book Robin had taken had already been returned to its place. He turned back to him in surprise, "Did you give up or what?"

"I finished it! That old man's grudge wasn't nearly enough to stop me!" Robin used both hands to help himself stand. "And I'll finish the other two books too—whether that arrogant bastard or your metallic ass like it or not!"

"First of all, I don't believe you finished it. Second, you make it sound like His Excellency the Headmaster was trying to prevent people from reading his book. No, no… if he wanted that, he could've placed a curse so strong it'd make reading impossible. What he really wanted was to make you grasp the depth of the person who wrote those words—to make you take your time and truly appreciate the effort."

Then Voltar laughed and gestured proudly around him,

"All these books carry the same style. Every book testifies to the greatness of its author. Here, the soul-force tomes strike your soul domain directly. The historical records make you feel tiny, like a bug under pressure. Every volume is steeped in power and authenticity—it forces your respect!"

"No," Robin scoffed, pulling out a thick book from his spatial ring, "The first person to write something in here wanted to bully those who came after. Then everyone who got bullied took their frustration and used it to create books just as difficult, maybe worse. Not a single one of them tried to break the cycle of pride and abuse."

"And you know what? I'm a petty person, I don't plan to break it either!"

"Haha, and what exactly do you think you're doing? You really think that book of yours will be accepted into the archive? Even if it is, do you believe it can leave the kind of impression made by Monarchs and Guardians?"

"Watch me."

Robin placed the thick book on the desk and opened it to the middle. The entire thing was written in his own handwriting—this was the original manuscript of one of his works.

Then, he raised both hands above it, and something strange began to happen…

Hoooh~

Golden tattoos emerged across Robin's arms and back—strange, shifting patterns that moved rapidly under his clothes, climbing up his neck. Then, an ancient and mysterious power began to gather in his palms, forming glowing runes in the air above the book.

These runes slowly descended onto the pages, covering every one of them, until they sank into the paper and disappeared.

"Hmm?" Voltar furrowed his brow deeply.

Then, with a confident smirk, Robin picked up the book and tossed it at Voltar.

"Here, let's see how many people can read this after I'm gone!"

And with that—woosh—Robin vanished from the room.