Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1632: Divisions of consciousness

Fifteen years later — Year 525 After the Coronation

”Doo~ doodoodoo~ doo~”

Robin hummed softly to himself, his voice echoing gently across the cavern as he shaped a massive golden pattern before him — a swirling, evolving construct of light nearly the same height as his own body. It was the exact replica of the pattern rotating beside the cave’s entrance, glowing faintly like a newborn star.

His aura flickered and dimmed with every breath, vast tides of energy cascading from his form in golden streams that merged into the hovering sigil. Yet, despite the overwhelming flow, he appeared composed — even relaxed —

As his hands moved with serene precision, his mind was split across several worlds of thought. Part of his awareness was fixated on maintaining the structure of the pattern, adjusting its energy flow and harmonics at an impossible level of detail.

Another part of his consciousness was gently creating melodies — humming and imagining musical tones that resonated with the pattern’s vibration. And in yet another corner of his mind, he was thinking about something as mundane as food: what to ask the Soul Creatures’ kitchen to prepare for him later that day.

Even beyond that, he was already calculating his future steps — reviewing long-term plans, and quietly preparing for the promise he still owed to Althera.

Since attaining the rank of a Royal Soul Master, Robin had been unraveling secrets. Each day brought him new revelations. But among all these discoveries, one stood above the rest: the ability to divide his consciousness.

He had learned that his mind could be partitioned in perfect harmony — one stream of thought for each Royal Star residing within his soul domain.

Three stars... three separate minds, each functioning autonomously, each capable of performing complex reasoning without clashing with the others.

At that exact moment, the part of his mind that was humming and daydreaming about food suddenly froze — as though remembering something important. Without so much as tilting his head, Robin’s gaze shifted sideways, his tone casual yet teasing.

”Hey, Arkalon, you’re awfully slow, you know that? How long have you been at this — a century?”

Not far away sat Arkalon, his soul creature, cloaked in his signature white-and-gold attire. He was surrounded by dozens upon dozens of slabs made from the sacred Treant bark, their surfaces etched with faint, unfinished runes. The spirit looked visibly strained — far more tense and focused than Robin himself.

At the jab, Arkalon raised his eyes, his golden irises flashing with irritation.

”Do you think this is easy? You think you can do better? Come here and finish it yourself if you dare!”

Robin’s smile widened slightly, unbothered by the defiance.

”Ha! You’re getting mouthier every passing day. Is that what the Purple Matter is teaching you now?”

Since the Purple Matter began saturating his soul domain, Robin had noticed dramatic changes in his soul creatures. They had started to evolve — not just in strength, but in personality. They felt more real, more independent, as if the fragments of memory and emotion buried deep within them were slowly resurfacing.

Arkalon, being the strongest among them — and the one who retained the largest portion of his original memories — had changed the most. Every time Robin awakened a new Royal Star, Arkalon received a surge of Purple Matter that reshaped his being. The once-stoic soul creature was now almost... human.

”Who’s mouthy?!” Arkalon snapped, voice rumbling with indignation. But then he paused, inhaled deeply, and exhaled through his nose in resignation.

”You know what? Forget it. You’re still the owner. I’ll keep my composure.”

He turned away, flipping through the many wooden slabs scattered around him until he selected one. Then, lifting it up for Robin to see, he said, ”You think you can solve this one?”

”Hmm...” Robin’s expression sobered. He raised his brows slightly and stared at the slab — not for seconds, but for a full ten minutes of unbroken silence.

Arkalon’s current task was monumental: he was attempting to recreate the legendary Soul Force Absorption Technique, a miraculous ability he had once invented during his lifetime — a method that allowed a being to absorb and refine soul energy at an impossible rate. Unfortunately, parts of that knowledge had been lost.

Even after his death, as a specter, Arkalon had instinctively used the technique, unaware of its inner workings. It had fused with his essence to such a degree that it became part of him, something he performed as naturally as breathing — yet he could no longer explain it.

So now, piece by piece, he was writing down every fragment he could recall, each spark of understanding, each half-remembered rune. When he hit a wall — when the structure refused to make sense — he turned to Robin.

And Robin would help him connect the dots — constructing new bridges of reason and insight where Arkalon’s memory faltered.

...Robin nodded several times, ”Alright... alright...” then used his soul force to guide one of the drafting pens lying on the ground, and it floated into motion as he began sketching something intricate. The air around him shimmered faintly with golden particles as the pen moved, tracing complex, interwoven lines across the wide canvas spread on the floor.

Only after another thirty long minutes did he finally withdraw his soul force and let the pen fall with a metallic clink. He exhaled softly, then smiled with satisfaction. ”Now then—tell me what you think of your magnificent owner’s work.”

”.....” Arkalon examined the sketch once, twice, and then a third time before setting it atop a neatly arranged pile beside him. He muttered under his breath, ”Tsk~ show-off.”

”A simple ’thank you’ would’ve been nice,” Robin chuckled, the sound echoing warmly through the underground chamber. Working with geniuses had always been both comforting and strangely delightful—each exchange filled with irritation, brilliance, and a spark of madness that kept the mind alive.

In truth, if Robin were working alone, he might never have conceived of what Arkalon had drawn. His strength as a Truth Chosen lay not in creation itself, but in weaving existing concepts together—making them synchronize and breathe as one.

”Thank you for what? I’m building this technique for your sake!” Arkalon grumbled, pulling another board toward himself and beginning to sketch with restless precision. ”I already completed this technique once—while I was alive! You should at least put in some effort if you want me to finish it while I’m dead!’’ He scratched his spectral hair with the tip of his pen and sighed. ”...Anyway, there’s not much left. We’ve passed more than halfway.”

”...You’re unusually persuasive today.” Robin’s lips curled into a grin before he turned his focus back to the glowing rune before him.

He had witnessed the operation of the technique firsthand. Whether Arkalon took a century or a millennium—or even a million years—to complete it, the result would still be worth every moment of waiting.

”Oh!” Suddenly, Robin’s mouth opened in delight. ”Three... twooo....... one!”

WOOOOM!

The golden pattern he had been shaping stopped absorbing his energy and instead began to emit its own light—alive, pulsing, resonating with consciousness. The lines vibrated softly, radiating power that made the entire cavern tremble.

”Congratulations,” Arkalon said, unable to hide his curiosity. ”So, what are you planning to do with that thing now? I can feel an immense force emanating from it...”

”Of course,” Robin replied proudly. ”It’s a pattern from a Master Law! Forget it, you’re dead—you wouldn’t understand. Even the surrounding laws are trembling, unable to process its existence. It’s a transcendent intruder, something beyond their comprehension, and they don’t know how to react to its presence in a physical form.” Robin’s eyes gleamed as he continued to gaze at the radiant formation.

”Oh...” Arkalon sounded unimpressed. ”So, are you planning to rebuild your foundation again? Looks like you’ve dropped down to level four this time.”

”No,” Robin said calmly, his tone lowering as excitement sparked in his gaze. ”There’s something I want to test first.”

He rose slowly, taking his time to admire one of his earlier masterpieces for a few extra moments. Then, with his right hand, he drew the new glowing pattern toward him, and with his left, he summoned another formation—the one he had completed decades ago. Holding both, he began to move deeper into the cave.

A broad grin stretched across his face, the kind that promised both discovery and danger. ”Oooh... this is going to be fun.”