Lord of the Truth

Merina's eyes stretched wide open as far as they could go, pupils dilated, breath caught in her throat.

"A-aah… Aaahhh…"

That slime… that green, shimmering slime... was her power.

The one inherited through generations of her bloodline, a sacred gift that only a few could wield.

And that dragon — that swirling, playful, miniature dragon — was the exact same technique she herself had invented, the one she forged out of frustration and desperation, trying to turn what others mocked as a "soft" ability into a deadly weapon.

"You... are you one of my missing uncles, Professor?"

Her voice was a confused whisper, breathy and full of wonder. Her gaze locked on the floating slime creature above Robin's hand, as if looking into a forgotten dream.

"If your missing uncles all used this amazing slime like you," Robin replied dryly, voice laced with sarcasm, "then they're probably not missing... they're just dead."

Then he tilted his head, pointing subtly toward Vanier.

"Now focus on this fight"

"Hmph. Come at me then, Professor."

Vanier took a step forward, muscles tensing beneath his skin as he fell into a rigid defensive stance.

He was fuming.

To be treated like a practice dummy — to be attacked using someone else's fighting style — was insulting enough.

But from him? Even Professor Shaddad never dared be this dismissive.

"Heh~"

Robin let out a soft chuckle, the kind that didn't reach the eyes. His lips curled slightly with amusement. Without even standing, he waved gently.

The little slime dragon, previously floating above his hand, took off like an arrow — hurtling straight toward Vanier.

"Hmph, an old trick!"

Vanier, familiar with Merina's techniques after countless sparring sessions, recognized the slime's weakness instantly.

He sent a powerful punch directly at the approaching creature.

This time, his arm was already fully encased in that dense, obsidian-dark layer of hardened energy.

BAAM!

The dragon exploded the moment it made contact, disintegrating into a puff of faint, green-tinted mist.

"Ah!"

Merina gasped and covered her mouth in horror.

She knew all too well how easily the slime broke apart.

That's why she never relied on its strength — only on its illusions.

Now the professor had used her method and humiliated himself in front of everyone…

Did I cause this? Is he going to be angry with me now?

Her heart began to pound faster.

"I coming for you, prof!"

Vanier's voice boomed across the arena, his grin growing wild and full of reckless pride.

He gathered his strength, every ounce of his power pouring into his legs as he prepared to leap.

Shadad's body jolted — a subconscious reflex.

His fingers twitched, ready to form seals or cast defensive barriers if necessary.

He knew Vanier's explosive power.

He knew how blindly this young man charged forward when his pride was wounded.

But then—

Something unbelievable happened.

BLOOF

Vanier's body gave out.

He didn't leap.

He didn't even sway.

He simply collapsed — straight to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut.

His eyes rolled upward, his mouth slightly open, and his limbs slack. He was out cold.

"......…."

"EEEEEEEEEEHHHHHH?!"

Merina pointed at him, shrieking in disbelief.

Her voice cracked as she looked around wildly, as if the explanation might be written in the air.

But there was only silence.

The other students just stared, just as stunned, unsure if they should laugh or panic.

Shaddad, on the other hand, activated his Eye of Truth instantly.

A green flash shimmered over his pupils as intricate circles formed and rotated within his eyes.

He scanned Vanier's body, mind racing.

What in the Laws had just happened?!

Robin, as calm as ever, turned slightly toward Merina and began to explain in a casual, almost bored tone — as if what just happened was no more significant than fixing a spilled cup of tea.

"All I did," he began, "was destabilize the slime structure at the perfect moment, reconfiguring its molecular shape into a highly refined micro-anesthetic capsule."

He gestured vaguely at Vanier's unconscious body.

"Your friend here inhaled it completely without noticing. It shut down his lungs almost instantly, and then it reached his heart. If we leave him like this, he'll be dead within minutes."

"Th-this…"

Merina stuttered, glancing between Robin and Vanier in disbelief, her legs shaking.

"No need to worry."

Robin raised his hand and made a casual pulling motion.

Blorp

A large bubble of slime surged out of Vanier's mouth — thick, translucent, and vibrating.

"COUGH!! KHH-KHHHH!!"

Vanier jolted violently, coughing like a man drowning on dry land, gasping for breath as though his lungs were on fire.

Each breath was a desperate heave, his entire torso convulsing as he fought to recover.

"Hey, get up already. I'm starting my next attack," Robin said with a tone of complete disinterest, as if he'd been interrupted while reading a boring book.

"Wh... what...?!"

Vanier wheezed, barely able to speak. His voice was raspy, broken — lungs still trembling.

But the moment he saw that green mass beginning to morph into a dragon again — he forced himself to his feet.

WHOOSH!

The slime dragon launched again — this time, even faster than before.

Vanier didn't hesitate.

He didn't dare punch it.

He summoned his spear immediately and sliced it with precision.

Shhhlick!

The dragon split cleanly into two.

But—

Shuuuuu Shuuuuu

The two halves suddenly wriggled, shimmered… and each became a fully-formed dragon of its own.

They lunged from two different angles.

Vanier growled and cut them both again.

But now—

Shuu Shuu Shuu Shuu

Four dragons.

Then eight.

Then sixteen.

Each strike only caused them to multiply — like a nightmare that bred itself.

"What the hell?!"

Vanier began retreating instinctively.

Then he jumped — right into the stands, dodging between students.

He was terrified of breathing that toxic mist again.

And now, he feared attacking them too — afraid the number would keep growing.

He was hunted.

And the dragons were multiplying like a plague.

Eventually, he found himself cornered.

Trapped.

Pinned in one of the far ends of the arena — back to the wall, surrounded.

More than sixty miniature green dragons, no larger than a fingertip, hovered around him in tight, circling formation.

Panic carved itself onto his face like a mask.

Then—

Robin waved his hand gently.

In an instant, the dragons spun in reverse, merged, and reformed into a single swirling mass — hovering again above his open palm.

Robin turned his gaze to Merina — a gaze that had not shifted away from her for even a second during the entire fight.

His voice was calm, almost teacher-like now.

"The first technique required extremely precise understanding of the Law — down to the smallest molecular reformation."

"The second," he continued, "requires at minimum 500 units of soul force to control all the split dragons individually and coordinate their paths."

"I assume… you do have more than 500 units, don't you?"

"Ah… Aha…"

Merina nodded slowly, voice shaky and faint.

Her mind still processing everything.

Her body frozen in a strange mix of awe, terror, pride… and utter confusion.

"Here we can clearly observe," Robin said, his voice low and unwavering, like a verdict being read aloud, "that your problem doesn't lie in the weakness of your Law..."

He let the silence stretch for a moment, his gaze cold and sharp as a blade.

"...but in how you use it. There is no such thing as a weak Law—only a weak understanding, a shallow execution. The failure is not in the Law, but in you."

His words struck like hammers.

And just then—

A voice ripped through the quiet:

"It's time for the next attempt!!"

It was Vanier shouting with reckless energy as he launched forward like a cannonball.

The entire arena tensed.

BLOOOF!

He collapsed mid-charge. Again.

"HUH?!"

Students shot to their feet, their chairs scraping loudly as a wave of gasps filled the room.

"W-Wha—?! How?! How?!"

Merina's voice cracked with disbelief, her eyes wide and darting.

Robin didn't even blink. His tone remained perfectly calm, like a professor explaining a failed experiment.

"He actually made a solid decision this time," he began.

"Realizing that long-range attacks only left him exposed, he chose a frontal physical assault instead — aiming for close quarters."

Then his tone sharpened, like a knife pressed against truth.

"But what he didn't know... was that I had already planted four microscopic slime dragons beneath his clothes earlier — tiny constructs, invisible, weightless, and completely dormant."

A pause.

A deep breath.

"They had already entered his bloodstream — lying in wait, broken down into particles smaller than dust. And the trigger? A single hostile thought.

The moment he decided to attack me — they activated."

He looked toward Merina now, eyes narrowing slightly.

"This is the third style you need to study. Entrapment. The art of control before the battle even begins."

Then he glanced down at the floor for a second, almost in disappointment.

"...I could have wrapped his legs in slime — weighed him down, slowed his movements.

Or I could have coated my own legs — transformed them into slippery blades and slid across the floor to outmaneuver him in close range..."

Then, finally, Robin sighed — and shook his head slowly.

"To see someone with a Law that possesses such potential... use it so childishly...

It's not just a shame.

It's an insult to the Law itself."

"....."

Merina looked down.

Her hands were clenched at her sides.

A deep, strange emotion swirled inside her — shame and admiration mixing in an impossible storm.

She felt like a child being corrected by a master.

But also...

A piece of her heart danced.

Because this meant — undeniably — that her power, her birthright… wasn't weak.

It was just… unrealized.

Then — with a soft snap of his fingers — snap!

Robin summoned the buried toxin.

A small, transparent slime bubble emerged from Vanier's mouth once more — glistening like poison captured in glass.

But this time…

Vanier didn't leap up like before.

This time…

He froze.

Because this time, Robin's voice didn't just reach his ears — it slammed into his mind, like a thunderbolt of judgment:

"If you put your pride in your body…"

Robin's voice was ice.

"...then you're already weak.

If you rely on your family… then you're just a shadow.

If you trust in your so-called talent… then you've never truly had any.

And if you can't stand the pressure of competition—"

His tone darkened.

"—then get out. There's no place for you here."

Then, his final words came like a guillotine:

"If I ever see you run away from a match again…"

His eyes glinted sharply.

"...then the toxin will not leave your body next time."

"...!!!"

Vanier's entire body convulsed.

His eyes snapped wide open, pupils shrinking like pinpricks.

His breathing hitched — his muscles seized — pure, primal fear flooded his expression.

Then—

He collapsed backward.

Unconscious.

The hall fell into utter silence.