Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1225 1225: Fate

”...Very well. I accept the first mission.”

Robin exhaled a long, slow breath, yet his voice remained firm, cutting through the tension like a blade.

His decision was clear — there was no hesitation left in him.

Even though he bore no personal hatred toward the target he was tasked with confronting, the stakes were simply too high to allow for compassion or mercy.

His very existence, the lives of his sons and daughters, and the towering empire he had painstakingly built — everything was teetering on the brink.

One wrong move, one soft moment of hesitation, could lead to complete ruin.

There was no time left to sympathize with strangers.

No room for hesitation.

Besides... since the mission was phrased merely as dealing with him, there might, just might, be alternative paths other than simple slaughter.

Still, Robin couldnʼt afford the luxury of naivety.

”What information do you have about the target?”

Robinʼs voice was cold now, edged with a steely seriousness that allowed no room for games.

The Seer, who until now had worn a lazy, almost casual expression, lifted a single eyebrow — a gesture both amused and nonchalant.

”Information?...” he mused aloud. ”His name is Sevar, if memory serves me right. He wields the Master Law of Causality. Thatʼs all you need to know.”

Robinʼs face tightened visibly. His stomach dropped as if a heavy stone had been tossed into it.

”What do you mean ʼthatʼs allʼ?!”

His voice rose in disbelief.

”Do you have any idea how vast the universe is? How am I supposed to find a single being with just a name and a law?!”

The All-Seeing godʼs lips curled into a strange smile, one that sent an involuntary shiver down Robinʼs spine.

He knew that smile.

It was the smile of a man who had already prepared an answer that he knew Robin would not like.

A chuckle escaped the All-Seeing godʼs throat — low at first, then growing louder, until he was laughing freely and without restraint.

”You neednʼt trouble yourself about that,” he said finally, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

”Heʼll find you first after todayʼs conversation... hehehe~.”

”...”

Robinʼs pupils dilated instantly, his whole body freezing in place.

For a moment, the very world seemed to lose color, leaving only a blank, suffocating void.

”Please... just let the incoming attack fall and wipe us all out!! It would be easier!!”

Damn it all!!

Robin cursed internally, a furious storm raging within him.

He had already braced himself for an uphill battle against a sovereign-level being.

He had resigned himself to facing a monster armed with a Master Law, hoping that at least he would have unlimited time to grow strong enough before the inevitable clash.

But now — even that faint hope had been stripped from him mercilessly!

Heʼll find me... after today?

What kind of horror story is this?!

In comparison, the dreaded fifty-year countdown before Helenʼs conflict against Rinara now seemed almost merciful, almost kind.

”Donʼt worry,” the All-Seeing god said again in that maddeningly calm voice, as if speaking to a frightened child.

”It will still take him quite some time to actually find you~.”

He continued, speaking slowly and clearly, as if savoring each word:

”At the moment, a new thread of destiny has been created around him — a thread that points toward you. This thread contains only the faintest whiff of hostility, like a whisper carried by a distant wind, barely enough to rouse suspicion.

As long as he knows nothing about your name, appearance, or background, tracing that thread to its source will be a slow, painstaking task. During that time, you will have the chance to prepare yourself, to ready your mind, body, and soul.”

Robinʼs heart, which had been hammering violently against his ribs, began to slow just a little.

A fragile, flickering ember of hope began to glow in the darkness.

”...Alright,” he said cautiously, ”how much time are we talking about, exactly? Weeks? Months? Years?”

The All-Seeing godʼs expression grew more serious, his voice lowering almost conspiratorially.

”Long enough for you to take some reasonable precautions,” he said firmly.

”That is all you need to know.

Besides, you have yet to even hear the second part of your tasks — and already you tremble?

Why fear him so much?

Heʼs merely a candidate, just as you are.”

Robin clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together hard enough that it hurt.

Just a candidate?

Perhaps in some technical sense, that was true.

But Robin knew better than anyone that a hundred years of survival and experience could turn a mere candidate into an unstoppable juggernaut.

He himself wouldnʼt want to face a future version of himself after a century of growth — let alone someone like Sevar, who had likely lived far, far longer.

Taking a long, steadying breath, Robin forced himself to remain calm.

”...I canʼt spend the rest of my life living in fear, waiting for the blade to fall,” he said.

”I need an option — a way to reach him first, on my own terms, if and when I feel ready to act.

Even if I never use it, the knowledge that such a method exists would grant me peace of mind, and a powerful bargaining chip.”

The humanoid light said nothing for a few moments, his eyes distant, lost in some unfathomable calculation.

Then he turned his gaze back to Robin, his expression sharp and unreadable.

”I cannot hand you his location directly,” he said finally, his voice slow.

”Doing so would cause the thread of fate between you two to tighten dramatically — making it far easier for him to find you. But...”

He allowed the word to hang in the air for a heartbeat,

”...I will give you a hint instead:

When the time approaches for your sonʼs wedding, buy him a nice gift.”

Robin blinked, completely thrown off balance by the unexpected answer.

”One of my crazy sons is getting married?! Who?!” A wide, delighted smile broke across Robinʼs face.

The humanoid light stared at him, stunned for a long moment, before bursting into helpless laughter once again. ”...Is that seriously your first question?!”

He couldnʼt believe it.

All the fear, all the anxiety Robin had shown just moments earlier — gone in an instant, wiped away by the mere mention of one of his childrenʼs happiness.

Was he ever truly worried in the first place?!

”Ahh, youʼre right, youʼre right...”

Robin muttered, trying to gather himself again.

He furrowed his brows thoughtfully, gnawed on the tip of his thumb in deep thought, then nodded as if reaching a firm decision. ”...Alright, then — what kind of tools or assistance will you give me to deal with him?”

”What do you mean? What more could you possibly want from me?!”

The All-Seeing god fidgeted theatrically, as if Robinʼs words were a personal insult.

He then flung his arms wide open, gesturing at the vastness surrounding them — a broken world.

”Saving all of this... isnʼt enough of a price for me to pay just to hand you a second chance? No — your third chance, mind you!

And yet here you are, daring to ask for even more?!”

Robin, feeling the heavy pressure bearing down on his shoulders, spread his hands in a pleading gesture. His voice softened, almost breaking into desperation.

”Please,” he implored, ”just be reasonable with me, thatʼs all I ask.

You said it yourself: he sensed a thread forming the moment we spoke about him.

Isnʼt that exactly the same way you weave your patches of fate?

How am I supposed to fight something like that?

No matter how I strategize, no matter how many variables I account for, heʼll always be several steps ahead of me!”

The humanoid light tilted his head, examining Robin as though he were an amusing, hopeless child.

”Thatʼs not my concern,” he said with an infuriating casualness, shrugging.

”Your struggle is yours alone.

But if you really want the surest way to defeat a wielder of Causality...

Youʼll have to beat him at his own game — with Causality itself.”

Robin didnʼt even blink.

Without a momentʼs hesitation, he stepped forward and extended both hands, palms open, an almost comical eagerness on his face.

”Fine. Then give it to me.”

The Seer scoffed and waved a hand lazily, like he was shooing away a persistent insect.

”How disappointing,” he muttered.

”And here I thought you were supposed to be some proud wielder of Truth...

Figure it out yourself.”

Robin leaned in sharply, almost stumbling forward in his urgency.

”But how?!” he demanded, his voice nearly cracking under the weight of frustration.

”I reached Spacetime after years of mastering both Space and Time individually to the point I could merge them into a single law!

Beyond that, sure, Iʼve dabbled in understanding Creation, and I have a rough, incomplete grasp on Balance...

But when it comes to Causality, Identity, or even Primordial Chaos — thereʼs just nothing!

My mind draws a blank every time!”

The All-Seeing god simply laughed, a deep, resonant chuckle that seemed to mock Robinʼs every word.

He shook his head in disbelief, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye.

”Honestly,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, ”I canʼt tell if youʼre an idiot or a genius.

You keep looking to the farthest stars, chasing grand, distant concepts like Spacetime Balance and Creation — and miraculously, youʼve made real strides toward understanding them.

But somehow, you completely ignore whatʼs right under your own feet.”

Robinʼs heart pounded in his chest.

A sense of creeping dread began slithering up his spine.

”...What exactly are you trying to say?”

His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if afraid to hear the answer.

The All-Seeing godʼs grin widened, almost predatory now.

His eyes gleamed with mischievous glee as he leaned forward.

”Exactly what you suspect,” he said, barely restraining his laughter.

”The thing you call your Omen of Truth.”

He jabbed a finger at Robin repeatedly, his motions animated, almost childish.

”You already have what youʼre desperately searching for, right inside you!”

Robin stumbled back half a step, his mind whirling chaotically.

”You... but you told me it was a special talent!

A unique gift because Iʼm an exceptional wielder of Truth!”

His voice was thick with betrayal, his face contorted in confusion.

The humanoid light waved a hand irritably, as if brushing away a boring conversation.

”Oh, please. Grow up. Stop clinging to every word I ever said as if it were scripture.

What did you expect me to tell you back then?

That you tore apart your own main thread of fate and, as a result, developed an innate resonance with Causality itself?!”

He shook his head again, pity lacing his words now.

”Listen closely, Robin, because I wonʼt repeat this.

Iʼll simplify Causality for you — as simply as a childʼs fable.

Let me create a tiny storyline for you to follow:”

The humanoid lightʼs voice grew low:

”Suppose you choose to dine at a terrible restaurant. Because of that, you get food poisoning— crippling stomach pains force you to rush to the hospital.

On your way there, panicking and speeding, you accidentally hit a child, breaking his leg.

Instead of stopping, you continue to the hospital, leaving the child behind.

Later, you return home exhausted, drained, missing an important meeting you had promised your friends.

Meanwhile, the father of the injured child tracks you down, furious.

He storms into your home and breaks both your legs in an act of vengeance.

Panicked, you stab him when he tries to break your arm as well, and he dies in the struggle.”

The All-Seeing god paused, then began tapping his fingers lightly in the air, counting invisible points.

”Each event leads naturally to the next — this chain of events is what we call Causality.

Every cause has its effect, and every effect leads to another cause.

And if anything — even a single small detail — had changed,

the entire chain would have crumbled.

No injury, no broken legs, no death.

Simple, right?”

He tilted his head slightly, his grin almost feral.

”Now, the entire sequence — from your decision to eat at that bad restaurant, to the act of killing a man in your home —

That grand arc is what we call Fate.”

Robin stood there, paralyzed.

His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

He had never — not once — imagined he would be sitting through a Master law lesson...

given so casually...

by this man.