Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1505: New destination

”....”

With excruciating effort, Robin raised his head.

His eyes were veiled beneath a film of darkness, as though his tears had thickened into tar. Blood seeped from every crevice of his skull, and yet each drop carried with it a suffocating, negative aura that clung to the air like smoke.

Anyone who looked upon him would have thought him a corpse already, a man murdered by the most merciless means imaginable.

And yet... he could still see.

Robin forced the Eye of Truth open. Its golden light, normally sharp and piercing, now flickered weakly, struggling against the oppressive haze. Barely, just barely, it pierced through the black fog enough for him to glimpse what he sought. And there she was...

The Shepherd of Specters.

She stood upon a small hill no more than a thousand meters away, her silhouette distinct even amidst the gloom. For someone of her might, that distance was nothing.

A single step was all it would take to place her directly above his head. In their condition, with her army behind her, that single step would mean the end of them all.

But she did not take it. The air itself seemed to tighten, an unseen pressure gathering as her regard fell on him, and even the broken stones felt heavier beneath his back.

For long seconds, their eyes met across the battlefield. Robin’s vision swam with blood and shadow, yet he could see her clearly—the strange stillness in her posture, the way her presence pressed upon the world around her like an invisible tide. Her voice carried the softness of lullabies and the cold finality of a tolling bell, smoothing the jagged edge of panic into a dangerous calm. Then the Shepherd parted her lips.

”I have been searching for Arkalon these past days,” she said, her voice calm, eerily melodic, ”to make him my general. But it seems you have taken him from me. And I suspect he was not the only one. You’ve claimed many herds in recent days. That is... inconvenient.”

Robin’s mouth was filled with blood, thick and black, yet he forced words through it. ”He... tried to kill me...”

The Shepherd’s dark lips curled faintly, her gaze never wavering from his tar-black eyes. ”Hmm. A fierce battle indeed. And judging by your state, you are already in the midst of transformation. Saving you is no longer an option.”

Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. ”When you become a specter, seek me out. I will take you wherever I go, and grant you a place of honor. Forget survival—focus instead on protecting your memories. I will strip away the rest of your burdens so you may devote yourself entirely to that task.”

When her last word faded, the Shepherd finally broke her gaze from Robin. Her eyes turned toward the horizon, and then she began to sing her familiar chant. 🎶

”Shaaaaakhhh?” The few thousand specters that remained from Robin’s massacre stirred as one. They turned toward her voice, their hollow forms trembling, and then began to shuffle in her direction like pilgrims answering a sacred call.

Their advance was tidal; a drifting skull wrapped in smoke paused, then hurried on as if afraid the hymn might leave it behind.

BAM The moment Malik realized the specters had ceased their assault, he dropped to his knees, his chest heaving, gasping for every breath. He had reached his limit long ago, yet had forced himself onward. Now, with the pressure lifted, his body betrayed him.

Wade, however, remained standing, though his legs trembled. ”Your Majesty, I am ready to transport us.” His voice was hoarse, but steady. Earlier, when the battle raged, he would have seized his lord without hesitation and fled.

But now, after hearing the exchange with the Shepherd, he could not move without consent. Wade measured angles and openings and came up lacking, yet he stood; Malik swayed but rooted himself by will alone. They would not die politely.

Robin ignored Wade’s words at first. His fading sight remained fixed upon the Shepherd’s figure. Only after several breaths did he rasp, ”Thank you. I will remember this favor.”

”Repay it by finding me once you’ve become a specter, hehe.” She winked, then turned away, her black hair flowing like a banner. ”But do not delay too long... or you may not find me.”

She laughed softly, the sound carrying strangely across the field. Lifting her arms, she resumed her humming, her massive army rising and falling behind her like a tide of shadows drawn into her wake.

”....” Robin’s eyes followed her until she vanished from sight. Only then did his head fall back to the ground, and only then did he allow the pain to crash over him. ”Arrrrghhh!” His cry was raw, jagged, the sound of bones grinding within flesh. Pain moved through Robin like a careful clerk, noting each failing muscle and joint. He clung to the Eye’s fading afterimage as to a railing on a cliff.

”Let’s get out of here.” Malik’s voice was hoarse beside them. Sweat drenched his face, his body trembled, his eyes revealed wounds upon wounds, yet somehow he still stood. ”I will carry His Majesty. You protect us.”

”Understood.” Wade nodded grimly. He drew his thick dagger, the blade glinting faintly even in the gloom, preparing for a perilous escape.

As long as Malik was present, and with the immediate threat departed, Wade dared not use instantaneous teleportation on his lord. In this state, such a move would cast them into some random place—perhaps into an even deadlier situation.

Worse still, Wade himself was near collapse, and if he fell unconscious mid-transport, any wandering specter could slaughter them both. He pictured a blind jump—broken bones rattling, a fall into worse darkness—and let a single word bear all his refusal: /Nope./

CRACK

”AAAHHH!!” Robin screamed as Malik tried to lift him. His shattered bones shifted, jagged edges tearing deeper into his flesh. Yet he clamped his mouth shut immediately, eyes squeezing closed, forcing himself to think of anything else but the agony.

”Forgive me, my lord—please endure.” Malik’s voice cracked with guilt as he hoisted Robin onto his back. He turned toward Wade, his expression grim. ”We must leave this region entirely. I cannot rest while that army still roams nearby. Perhaps that strange woman is waiting for us to lower our guard before she strikes. I cannot believe she neither saw that eye nor felt its power!”

Even as he spoke, Malik could not stop himself from stealing a sidelong glance at his master. What kind of power is this? He had seen Robin’s insides exposed, felt the very air brush against naked bone. Robin had stripped him bare —literally— until every glowing weakness shone like stars across his body. Malik had not been able to read the inscriptions beneath them, but their meaning was obvious: danger, vulnerability, destruction.

There was no doubt—his lord could have ended his life with a single gesture in that state. What kind of technique does this? No wonder his body is broken...

”Where do we go then? The remaining regions are swarming with specters—we’ll never find a safe place to treat His Majesty.” Wade’s brows furrowed deeply. ”Should we head to the gate and return to the academy?”

”No!” This time, it was Robin himself who roared, his voice raw and heavy with defiance.

Entrust his fate to the criminals who guarded the gate? Never. It mattered little if they cloaked themselves in the guise of a respectable organization. The Hidden Hand was still the greatest syndicate of the underworld, and its reputation was the foulest.

Every member carried the stench of heavy karmic sin. Each one a criminal, capable of betrayal at a whim. No one could predict what they would do if they saw the three of them so broken and vulnerable.

”In that case, there is only one place left...” Malik muttered, his brows knitted tightly as he turned his gaze toward a particular direction. ”But...” Malik’s mind drew a map not of distance but of survivable risks, choosing a path that was not shortest but least lethal.

”Then we go. A potential danger is better than certain death.” Wade cast a sharp glance at his lord, whose condition was deteriorating swiftly. They could not linger. They had to move, to act—anything was better than waiting for doom.

And so Malik nodded once, grimly, and leapt forward in that direction. Wade followed close behind, every step wary, eyes scanning the shadows for the faintest trace of threat.