Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1292 1292: Human empire

”Hmmmm... what a good day.” Robin tossed the blue booklet into the air, watching it spin a few times before catching it smoothly with one hand. A carefree grin spread across his face.

”In just a handful of hours, I found a clue pointing toward dark energy and dark matter, uncovered my soul trait, and even obtained a cultivation technique for it. Truly... the Middle Belt is full of surprises.”

”Heeey! Heeeeeey, brother!! Wait up!”

”Hmm?” Robin glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows rising slightly. When he saw who it was, his smile widened with amusement.

”Ah, itʼs you again.”

The voice belonged to a young man—human, probably in his early twenties—with medium-length, slightly unkempt hair. He wore loose, flowing clothes typical of a traveler, and his strikingly handsome features carried a friendly charm. Clearly, he was the kind of guy who was quite popular among the ladies. It was the same youth Robin had seen earlier during the soul trait evaluations.

”Hah... hah... why do you walk so fast, man?!” the young man panted, doubling over slightly as he caught his breath. He grinned and extended his hand.

”Iʼm Pitsu from the Meizer family—one of the surviving human families in the Middle Belt. Whatʼs your name?”

”...Pitsu Meizer, huh?” A quiet laugh escaped Robinʼs lips, like a bubbling stream, before he took the offered hand.

”Iʼm Robin Burton.”

”Robin Burton? Hehe, what a name!” Pitsu chuckled, shaking his hand eagerly.

”Youʼre something else, brother. A soul trait user, and a rare one at that! Why in the world didnʼt you join the Seven Spirits Clan?”

”Oh? So thatʼs why you came running?” Robinʼs smile calmed into a curious, almost unreadable expression.

”Does it really matter to you whether I joined them or not?”

”Of course it matters! What kind of silly question is that?” Pitsu frowned as though Robin had just asked if water was wet.

”Every human who rises in power is a win for all of us. The Seven Spirits Clan is no minor group—they govern an entire planet, and even hold partial dominion over two others. If a human were to rise among their ranks, itʼd be... monumental.”

”...?!” Robinʼs expression twitched, cycling through several emotions before he grabbed Pitsu by the shoulder and gently pulled him to walk beside him.

”Pitsu, right? Iʼm just a lowborn farmer—not very educated in the ways of this place. So... how are things really for humans in this so-called Middle Belt?”

”The real situation for humans, huh?” Pitsu blinked in surprise, then his eyes widened in realization.

”Oh! You mustʼve just arrived—probably from a newly ascended planet, huh?”

”Something like that,” Robin said with a chuckle, patting the boyʼs shoulder.

”Tell me the truth. Why have I only seen a handful of humans since I landed? Three or four at most. And whatʼs even stranger... no oneʼs tried to bully me. No hostility, no harassment. Why is that?”

Robin had been pondering it quietly for a while. If humans were truly persecuted, then why hadnʼt he experienced any of it? Was it luck? Or was something else going on beneath the surface?

”Thatʼs because the Middle Belt is far more dangerous than it appears, brother Robin. The surface is just a mask.” Pitsuʼs voice grew serious.

”You may already know this, but among all sentient species, humans are considered the weakest—physically fragile, and with no natural affinity to the elemental laws. And even in terms of soul cultivation, we donʼt exactly shine.”

He looked ahead again, the rhythm of their footsteps echoing down the quiet street.

”Other species—mutants, beastfolk, shapeshifters—theyʼre born with powerful bodies or natural affinities to elemental laws. Weʼre not. Weʼre the baseline. The original design, maybe... but not the strongest.”

”...” Robin nodded slowly, remembering all the old teachings about humans being the ʼdefaultʼ form of intelligent life.

”In the Middle Belt, thereʼs no such thing as fairness or justice. Power is law, and the strong dictate whatʼs right. Racial wars? Theyʼre common. Violent. Ruthless. And they almost always end in genocide.” Pitsu clenched his fists.

”We were taught as children that humans should be present on every planet, naturally—like seeds scattered by the wind. And yet... here we are, seventy million years after the Great Invasion Era, and not many are left around.”

”Ooooh... so weʼre that rare?” Robinʼs eyes widened, a mix of awe and amusement dawning across his face.

He found no fault in what Pitsu had said. Everything made a harsh kind of sense. From what Robin had witnessed during his years roaming and conquering in the Young Belt, every single planet he came across had, at some point, hosted human life. Even the Orphan Blood a planet now consumed by chaos and brutality—had once been home to humans. But they had gone extinct. Not because of alien invaders or galactic warlords, but by the hands of the planetʼs own evolved inhabitants.

So, if extinction was possible even in the young belt... what hope was there in the Middle Belt, where the threat of external conquest was constant—where danger lingered everywhere?

Pitsu nodded solemnly, reading the unspoken question in Robinʼs eyes.

”Weʼre not exactly a dying race—not yet,” he said slowly, ”but weʼre definitely not flourishing either. Any planet that begins to show signs of a growing human population... eventually draws unwanted attention. Massacres happen. Sometimes overnight. The moment humans begin to gather in numbers, fear starts to spread among the other races. They know what weʼre capable of.”

Robin tilted his head.

”...Capable in what way? Our birthrate? Our adaptability?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm, though curiosity burned in his tone.

”Neither. Iʼm talking about something more... psychological,” Pitsu replied, his voice low, as if speaking a secret not meant to be overheard.

”Itʼs our capacity for submission. When weʼre cornered—when a threat rises that could wipe us from existence—humans have an unmatched ability to unite. We donʼt squabble or delay. We follow orders. We throw our faith behind a leader, even if we barely know their name. We obey completely... and only start asking questions after the war is over.”

He raised a finger, emphasizing his point.

”That instinct, that willingness to yield to structure in times of chaos—it terrifies the other races. Because no other species has it. Some are too proud. Some are always betraying each other when the hard times strikes. And some are cowards at their core. While some others well, they trust no one. But humans?” He tapped his chest. ”Weʼre the only ones who can lose ourselves entirely in the service of a greater cause.”

He sighed deeply, the weight of a million silent histories pressing on his shoulders.

”Thatʼs why weʼre left alone when weʼre few. We pose no threat in isolation. But the moment we start to grow? To organize? Thatʼs when the blades come out. No empire will allow it. No faction dares take that risk. The idea of a human uprising is their worst nightmare.”

Robin blinked, absorbing every word.

”So itʼs some kind of... universal population control, then?”

”Not an official one. Thereʼs no interstellar law that mandates it. Itʼs more like... tradition. Policy without paperwork,” Pitsu explained with a bitter grin.

”Every empire that governs humans imposes restrictions in one form or another. Forced sterilization. Controlled births. Infant culling. Poisoned water supplies. Take your pick. The methods are many. The goal is always the same: keep our numbers below the danger threshold.”

”And what about human planetary empires?” Robin asked, a spark of naive hope flashing in his voice.

Pitsu scoffed.

”There are no human empires in the Middle Belt. Maybe there are humans who owns academies, families, or sects. But empires? No. Nothing like that exists.”

Robin stopped walking for a moment, stunned.

”How can you be sure? The universe is vast. Maybe thereʼs one hidden away—waiting to rise.”

”There isnʼt one,” Pitsu said with finality, his tone hardening.

”To build an empire, you need more than a dream. You need infrastructure, bureaucracy, generals, legions... and all of that has to come from the people. From the masses. From a population so large that war becomes sustainable. But how are we supposed to raise armies when weʼre not even allowed to reproduce freely?!”

Robin said nothing for a while, his expression darkening.

His gaze turned forward, but his mind drifted to the past.

Only a hundred years ago, his territories housed over a billion humans. Even then, he couldnʼt build an army strong enough to challenge Pythor head-on. They were too few, too scattered, too hesitant.

And now, after decades of incentivizing reproduction, opening up colonization routes, and actively expanding human settlements across dozens of worlds... maybe the population had grown to five, perhaps seven billion at best. Still not enough.

Caesar still demanded more soldiers. Still cried out for more warriors. And yet... there were none to offer.

If even a billion humans couldnʼt form a force mighty enough to challenge a dominant empire in the Young Belt, then what would it take to establish a true human empire in the Middle Belt? How many would be needed? Ten billion? Fifty? A hundred?

How many lives must be gathered... just to create a good king?