Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1681: Academy needs

”...And in return, I want Morgana.”

”What? What are you talking about?!” Robin waved his left hand in disbelief. ”What does the Soul Atlas have to do with Morgana?”

”Please, sit down.” Althera gestured firmly toward the chair and remained silent until Robin finally took his seat. She then exhaled softly before speaking, her tone a mixture of caution and intent. ”In truth, I had planned to bring this up at the right time — not today. I know your nerves are strained after what you’ve witnessed... but what you saw, I see as well. The entire Academy is in uproar because of Morgana, and I want to give them a clear answer.”

”What does that have to do with me?! Let it turn upside down if it wants to!” Robin leaned forward, sitting on the edge of the chair. ”Why should I hand over one of my followers to you?”

”You don’t have to do anything, Lord Robin. Please, calm yourself a little,” Althera said with a serene smile, though her eyes glimmered with a quiet determination. ”Yes, I need her — deeply — but not to the extent that I’d risk a good relationship with the guest of the Cosmic Elder, and the future Great Truth Chosen himself. Consider this merely... a casual exchange of ideas.”

”...Hey,” Jabba whispered, leaning toward Shaddad. ”Who’s this Cosmic Elder? And what’s a Great Truth Chosen?”

”Shhhh—” Shaddad’s expression twisted awkwardly; he was beginning to feel he shouldn’t be here at all.

Robin frowned for a brief moment, then leaned back fully in his chair, his voice now calmer and more measured. ”Continue.”

TapTap

Tap
Althera tapped the table quickly a few times. The faint smile stayed on her face, yet her irritation was unmistakable at Robin’s dismissive tone.

As a Monarch who stood at the very peak of the cosmos — among a rare and powerful few — she had grown used to commanding entire realms. Yet, she always found it difficult to deal with certain kinds of individuals: the Royal Soul Masters and those with special states of existence like Robin. In both cases, she could erase them with a wave of her hand, but diplomacy — not domination — was the key. Only by showing restraint could she achieve what she wanted. Pressuring such beings always backfired... she had learned that lesson well from Barok.

”First of all, Lord Robin,” Althera began again, her tone softening yet carrying subtle weight, ”Morgana truly is the number one instructor in the Academy, as I mentioned. Everyone adores her, and the results of her students are nothing short of remarkable. That girl was born to teach — to guide and nurture others. I can hardly imagine her doing anything else. Why would you suppress such a rare and radiant gift?”

”....” A flicker of satisfaction rose quietly within Robin, though his face stayed serious and composed.

Morgana probably didn’t care much for the act of teaching itself — she cared for the interaction, the attention, the bond she created with her students. Even so, these were undeniably good signs. For the first time, he began to imagine a proper position for her.

”...If you agree to let her officially accept the title of Professor, I’ll personally assign her a fixed salary of one million Pearls a year from the Academy’s treasury,” Althera continued, a confident smile forming on her lips. ”And that’s not counting any additional fees she might receive from her students, or the countless gifts that will surely come her way. Believe me, she’s already the type who draws endless offerings.”

A hundred million Pearls per century, at least, not to mention the lecture fees and extravagant gifts — in total, that could easily reach four hundred million Pearls every hundred years. No other instructor had ever approached such figures. And as her master, her guardian, and her superior, all that wealth would naturally flow — directly or indirectly — into his own hands.

”...Go on.” Robin smiled faintly, showing no trace of being swayed by temptation. ”We both know we wouldn’t be having this conversation if that were all there was to it.”

”...There’s nothing more to continue — you’ve seen the situation yourself,” Althera spoke slowly, her tone sharp yet controlled. ”The entire academy is in chaos because of this. The moment the idea of Morgana leaving was mentioned

, the uproar spreads like wildfire. Students, instructors, even external sponsors—everyone would revolt. The mere announcement of the substitute instructor Morgana’s departure would bring catastrophic losses to the Dawn light Stellar Academy.” Her large, luminous eyes focused intensely on him, each word carrying the weight of leadership. ”If you wish, we can negotiate her fixed salary, or adjust her share from the students’ tuition fees, or even expand her privileges as an honorary professor. I’m open to flexibility.”
”Do I look like someone who cares about four or five hundred million Pearls per century, Your Majesty?” Robin’s voice came out with scornful disbelief as he waved his hand dismissively, his movements sharp and unrestrained. ”I could make that much in a single week if I wanted to! Is this really what you brought me here for? What else do you have? We both know this conversation isn’t happening because of a few protests. The Dawn light Stellar Academy stood tall long before Morgana ever set foot here—and it will continue to thrive long after she’s gone. So please, stop hiding behind polite excuses and tell me the real reason. Perhaps I’ll consider it if I hear something that actually sounds truthful.”

”...” Althera’s long lashes fluttered, her eyelid twitching for a fraction of a second.

That single sentence—I don’t care about four hundred million Pearls per century—rang in her ears with an arrogance so vast it almost felt divine. Yet, when those words came from Robin Burton’s mouth, they didn’t sound boastful; they sounded like simple fact. That was what made him dangerous.

”Very well then,” she said at last, straightening her back and nodding twice, as though accepting a challenge. ”If you truly wish to hear the reason, I’ll tell you plainly. Professor Barok has become impossible to manage. He refuses to cooperate and has nearly stopped producing Soul Borrowings entirely. Instructor Morgana, on the other hand, has been compensating for his absence for decades—producing a higher volume of Soul Borrowings at nearly equivalent quality, despite being only a one-star Royal Soul Master.”

”Soul Borrowings?” Robin raised a brow, his expression hard to read. ”Why not just buy what you need from the Soul Society?”

Soul Borrowings were among the most sought-after creations in existence—products born from the essence of a Soul Master’s power. They could take countless forms: defensive barriers capable of blocking attacks, aggressive curses that could shatter the soul of an enemy, or even permanent fragments of a soul that acted as a guardian for the user.

The stronger the Soul Master, the more valuable their Soul Borrowings became. By the time one reached the Royal Soul rank, every piece of their craft turned into a treasure. Their work could alter the fate of wars and decide the rise or fall of entire sects.

”Buy from the Soul Society?” Althera repeated his words with a weary sigh, shaking her head slightly as if the thought itself was naive. ”There’s never enough to meet the demand. Prices there are outrageous, and the Royal Soul Masters sell their works on a whim—one day they release ten, the next they offer none. The supply is erratic and uncontrollable. And the competition...” Her voice hardened, ”...is vicious. Every major power, every ancient sect, every academy across the one thousand middle sectors fights tooth and nail for the right to purchase even a single Royal Soul Borrowing.”

She paused, her expression tightening with visible strain. ”We do buy from there whenever we can—through the official markets, through underground channels, even through the major auction halls—but it’s a battlefield of politics and bidding wars. It’s unreliable and dangerous. We can’t afford to base the academy’s foundation on such instability.”

Then she leaned slightly forward, her gaze sharpening like a blade as her tone softened. ”That’s why we need a Royal Soul Master to remain here in the Academy, full-time. Someone who can sustain the academy’s strength and prestige without having to rely on the fickle whims of the outside world.”

The room fell silent for a heartbeat. The air between them was heavy—thick with unspoken calculations and mutual understanding. Althera’s voice, when it came again, was quieter but far more personal.

”And the only one capable of ensuring that stability... is you.”