Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1517: Morgana

Whoooosh

Robin advanced through the sea of shadows... his body almost entirely enveloped in a faint glow, like a dim lantern trying to vanish within the abyss, and then vanished. In that instant, he was activating several laws simultaneously, weaving them together with meticulous precision to erase his presence to the very last trace.

The most crucial among them came from the Major Fundamental Law of Resonant Waves, a profound principle that bent vibrations and echoes into silence, while another stemmed from the essential Law of Darkness, cloaking his existence as though the void itself had swallowed him.

”Haaaaaaaakh~//” The chorus of specters pressed forward, their cries echoing like shrieks from the depths of forgotten worlds. But as the minutes stretched on, Robin’s sharp senses caught a shift—an unsettling escalation. Their numbers were multiplying, their pace accelerating, their savagery swelling like a tide that would soon overflow and drown everything in its path.

Trttt With the utmost caution, Robin split space itself, a silent tear opening like the blink of an unseen eye. He carefully chose a vantage point—the jagged crown of a nearby mountain—and in a heartbeat, he emerged there. His instincts, sharpened through countless battles, whispered a truth: whoever sought him was already near, far too near.

And then it came...

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

The very earth convulsed. The moment Robin’s figure stepped out of the portal, a cataclysmic force slammed into the mountain, hurling him violently against the ground. Dust and gravel scraped against his face as he pressed low, barely raising his head to glimpse the chaos. His eyes widened to their limit, breath caught in his throat.

For before him appeared a figure he recognized... and a voice that carved itself into his memory long ago thundered through the battlefield.

”🎶🎶

My specters—forward, fear no more,The bleeding moon cries across the cosmos’ shore!At my scream, the iron legions fall apart,At my whisper, ice devours every fortress’ heeeeeart!”

Like an endless tide of nightmarish soldiers, thousands of specters surged forth behind her, each radiating a murderous frenzy. Their weapons glimmered faintly, claws dripping with malice, their very forms burning with a will that defied reason.

They charged not for life, but for death itself—ready to die again in blind devotion to a cause they did not even comprehend.

”Cease your corruption!” A furious shout cut through the storm. A man cloaked in crimson descended like a wrathful star, his palm igniting with raw force as he hurled it toward the advancing swarm.

BOOOOOOOOOOM

The blast erupted with a fury that shattered valleys and cracked the sky. The strike bore no enchantment, no divine art crafted to counter specters, yet the overwhelming power of that man crushed everything indiscriminately. The sheer might of his cultivation turned the swarm into dust and echoes.

”Nexus State...” Robin whispered, awe and dread entwined in his voice as he witnessed the devastation.

Dozens of specters were erased in an instant, their remnants scattered into nothingness. The survivors were hurled backward, shrieking, as the land itself caved beneath the impact. A nearby mountain fractured, boulders tumbling like meteors from the heavens. This was not something even a cultivator at the pinnacle of World Cataclysm could hope to achieve.

”What is happening? Why would the Shepherdess launch her wrath against someone in the Nexus State?!” Robin’s mind raced, confusion gnawing at him.

Was she trying to trap and slaughter opportunists who dared to enter Specter Valley for plunder? Was this a purge meant to strip them of their stolen treasures?

...But no. That didn’t fit. He had seen her twice before, and never once had she seemed like the type to revel in such cruelty.

”You know I can’t do that, hehe~” The Shepherdess’s laughter was light and mocking, like silver bells. She twirled her parasol gracefully, its tip drawing arcs in the smoky air. ”I’ll grant you one chance to retreat, but my purpose here cannot be abandoned. I must do what I came for.”

”Never!” The man of the Nexus State bellowed, fury shaking his frame. His energy roared like a collapsing sun as he brandished his hand once more. ”Do you truly believe you can advance while I stand in your way?!”

”Why don’t we find out? 🎶” Her angelic tone turned the battlefield into a stage. She winked with playful cruelty, then snapped her parasol in a dancer’s flourish. ”Kids, Take your revenge.”

”Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakh~//~”

”This is bad.” The Nexus State cultivator in the crimson coat felt his blood run cold. His expression drained of color as he staggered backward, boots digging trenches into the shattered earth.

He had slaughtered dozens of specters in a single breath? Admirable... but before him surged a sea of nearly one hundred thousand of them. A tide of death that no single cultivator could hope to stem for long.

”Stop them!!” he bellowed, his voice carrying through the chaos. Even as he retreated, he thrust his hand forward in command.

Behind him, Robin’s eyes narrowed as shapes emerged—warriors of many races, their appearances disparate, their clothes mismatched, their techniques as varied as the worlds they hailed from. They bore no banners, no unified sigils, yet every one of them moved with the resolve of hardened veterans.

BAMBOOM

CRASH
The battlefield exploded with fury. Energy orbs streaked like comets. Blades of soul force cleaved through the night. Some relied on raw physical strength, hurling boulders and smashing the earth itself. Others unleashed roaring torrents of spiritual power that lit the battlefield like a storm of falling stars.

Together they stood as a living bulwark, a last fortress of flesh and will, a wall between humanity and annihilation. They numbered only about twenty in all, but among them were Nexus States and World Cataclysms alike—giants whose every strike could erase battalions.

Their assaults fell in relentless waves, coordinated not by command but by instinct, as though survival itself had woven them into a single, furious formation.

And yet...

”Damn it!!” The crimson-coated Nexus State cultivator cursed, teeth clenched, and retreated once more, dragging his comrades with him. Dust rose in choking clouds as they fell back, forming another defensive perimeter. The clash reignited in an instant, the storm of destruction following them wherever they fled.

”Hmm... are they Syndicate?” Robin muttered, furrowing his brow. Their styles, their reckless ferocity—everything matched the whispers and scraps of evidence he had gathered.

But something was wrong. These weren’t the same operatives who had been guarding the outer gates. And more importantly—they weren’t here to hunt the Shepherdess. Their stance screamed desperation, not aggression. They were fighting to hold, not to conquer.

”Morgana, stop before it’s too late!!” The crimson-coated cultivator roared, voice strained with urgency. ”I can overlook your trespass into Specter Valley under a stolen identity—but only if you release our specters now and leave! I will grant you safe passage out myself!”

”Morgana...?” Robin echoed under his breath, shock flickering in his eyes as he turned to the Shepherdess.

Her response was ice. The laughter that had danced on her lips since her arrival faded, leaving a grim, steely mask. ”That name is not yours to speak. And these specters are not yours to reclaim.” She raised her parasol and gestured toward the Syndicate’s defenders. Her voice rang like a death knell: ”This planet will be freed today. Whoever still clings to life should depart—while they still can.”

”Damn it,” the crimson-coated cultivator snarled, glancing over his shoulder. ”Go—summon reinforcements!”

”But that will gut our reward! We can do it ourselves! Just give us one chance!!” a subordinate protested bitterly, desperation in his eyes.

”Do it!” the Nexus State snapped, his aura flaring like a thunderstorm. ”The Middle Zone must be protected. Otherwise, what awaits us will not be reward, but punishment! Do you dare test the wrath of the Lords themselves?!”

The Middle Zone?! Robin’s thoughts roared. Malik and Wade had brought him here, into the mountains of the Middle Zone? This place was supposed to be utterly barren, devoid of specters. A sanctuary within Specter Valley. Then what was this monstrous army? Could it be that the Shepherdess had lured this entire tide across endless ground, dragging them here into the very heart of the Middle Zone?!

”Tsk~” The subordinate who had received the order scowled, fury boiling in his gaze. He thrust his finger toward the Shepherdess. ”You’re already a corpse!” With that, he turned and stormed off to fulfill his command.

”Hehe~” The Shepherdess’s lips curved once more, the cruel music of her giggle drifting through the battlefield. Slowly, she swept her gaze left and right. Lurking in the shadows, unmoving, were more than thirty specters. Each emanated a pressure so suffocating it warped the very air. These were no ordinary undead—they were generals of death, beings strong enough that each alone could tilt the course of the battle. ”I want to see how exactly I’ll die today.”

Robin’s brow furrowed. Their words carried layers he could not fully decipher, but one truth shone through the fog...

Something lay behind those Syndicate warriors. Something vast, something critical, something they were willing to sacrifice everything to conceal.

”.....” After a moment’s deliberation, Robin angled his body, straining to glimpse past the fiery barricade of clashing powers. Then, without hesitation, he sliced a slit into the fabric of space. His figure dissolved into the rift, slipping silently into the unseen beyond.