Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1843 Hour

Six hundred years ago-

Helen was gazing downward at the city that should have been erased from existence by the Nature Annihilating Strike-a city that, by every law of nature and every expectation of destruction, should have been flattened. Yet it still stood, untouched, impossibly preserved. Its towers remained upright, its streets unbroken, and its people-those fragile mortals-still lived and breathed beneath her shadow.

That rat, Robin Burton, had attempted to block the attack... but then he suddenly vanished, disappearing in a flash of light, followed moments later by a distant explosion that echoed like the final breath of a dying world. The reason was unclear, but the intention was not. Most likely, he had chosen to die alone -sacrificing himself in a desperate, foolish attempt to buy the survivors even the slimmest chance... a chance to negotiate with her, exactly as he had hoped for in his final moments. ”...Juri, I donʼt care what happens to anyone else—I order you to bring me my fatherʼs body! Even if everyone else dies for it, I want to see him one last time!!” ”Hm?” Helen slightly furrowed her brows as she heard the scream of the white-haired boy below. His sorrowful voice pierced through the ruins like a blade.

He had actually decided to make the Planet Spirit cease its resistance against her in exchange for retrieving the body... the body of the man he still clung to. He looked like a sobbing child who had just lost his entire family and had no idea what path remained to walk.

Yet, strangely-absurdly-she found herself supporting his request, if only for the selfish satisfaction it offered.

She would love to see the ratʼs corpse, to confirm he was truly gone, to ensure no trick remained.

So, almost instinctively, she loosened her pressure-just a fraction-just enough for the Planet Spirit to extract what remained of Robin Burton.

And indeed-

Woosh.

At that moment, something strange occurred, something far outside her calculations.

The Planet Spirit retrieved the ratʼs remains... but they were not ash, not dust, not the charred scrap she expected. Instead, what appeared was something bizarre and horrifying, a grotesque sculpture of life:

A brain.

A life artery.

A still heart.

An energy gathering center.

And, naturally, a long spinal cord connecting all pieces into one dreadful structure.

Every organ pulsed with a soft golden glow, flickering like dying stars.

The sight was uncanny, twisted-but undeniably, there was power leaking from them. That rat had done something, something monstrous, something beyond his rank.

The entire city fixed its eyes upon him-upon what remained of their lord- staring with tear-filled gazes, their hearts overflowing with grief for the future that had been stolen from them. The silence was suffocating.

Then their eyes slowly shifted upward toward her, toward the sky, toward the woman who had taken everything from them, filled with a hatred so intense it seemed they wanted to carve the face of the ultimate Demon into their memories forever... before following their lord into oblivion.

And among all those faces, one person suddenly stole the spotlight-

A young man clad in black-and-gold armor.

He stared silently at the remains for several long seconds without crying, without speaking, without even blinking. His calmness contrasted painfully with the despair around him.

Then, suddenly, he raised his hand in a full military salute- first to the remains on the ground, then to the people surrounding him.

In a loud, steady, unwavering voice, he declared: ”All of you... it has been an honor to share all those moments with you.

Your command structure after me will be: Richard, Sakaar, Peon, then Theo.

After that, you are free to do as you wish.

Farewell.” ”Hm?”

In a moment like this-everyone in the city, even Helen herself, found their attention pulled toward that cockroach... that insolent soldier.

His quiet, calm words were completely out of place in such a tragic scene.

His charisma-his overwhelming presence-forced every eye to turn away from the remains of His Majesty and toward him alone, as if gravity itself bent around his resolve.

Shuwaaaaa-

The young man shot upward under the gaze of the entire city.

A vast, oppressive sea of black flames erupted from him, blanketing the sky in a suffocating darkness before launching upward like a comet tearing through existence.

The vile, crushing aura of those flames was not much weaker than the Nature-Annihilating Strike itself.

And yet, that aura continued to rise-growing worse, heavier, deeper, more terrifying with every passing moment, as though something ancient and forbidden had awakened inside him...

Helen was forced to watch that strange, suicidal young man-forced to focus on every tiny detail of his reckless charge.

She was forced to look into his eyes, eyes that were steadily bleaching into a pure, unnatural white, as he hurled himself toward her with a terrifying mixture of calmness and blazing hatred.

It wasnʼt simple anger.

It was raw, unfiltered hatred-hatred so ancient, so heavy, so deeply rooted that she instinctively understood it was something no human heart should ever be capable of carrying.

Then she heard those words...

The strangest threat she had ever encountered in all her centuries, and at the same time, the most brutally serious, the most viciously sincere.

It was a threat pathetic yet so realistic, one that whose owner radiated absolute willingness to die just to make it real.

A threat sharp enough that -for the briefest fraction of a moment- Helen genuinely felt danger prickle across her skin: ”One hour! Today, I will take at least one hour from your goddamn life!” ”...Helen Distra, do you remember me?”

Ctack!

Helen staggered one step backward, her boots scraping against the floor as her entire body jolted. Her eyes widened so violently they looked ready to burst from their sockets. ”You...!!”

Caesar lifted his head only slightly, but it was enough to send a deep, icy tremor through the hall.

The Law of Death surged through his veins like a tidal wave, rising at a rate that instantly crossed the 15% threshold.

His eyes darkened into a pitch-black well, a void over which pale clouds drifted continuously, like a midnight sky abruptly igniting with pale, ghostly flames. ”Iʼll take that reaction as confirmation that you remember me. What a tremendous honor... truly.”

Bam.

Helen reacted on pure instinct. She shot her hand forward with terrifying speed, seized his neck in an iron grip, and hoisted him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. ”You? You are Marshal Caesar?! You... you...!?!?”

Her voice cracked between disbelief and fury.

The exposed sliver of her expression beneath the mask fluttered chaotically- shock, denial, rage, and a deep, stinging sense of betrayal all colliding at once.

Why him of all people?

Why now?

Why today, of all possible days?

How could any of this even be real?

That man she remembered him clearly- had been beside Robin Burton on the day she planned to obliterate the planets of the Young Belt.

The same day that mysterious shadow appeared, effortlessly sending her back to her quarters with nothing more than a casual wave of his hand.

Was this man Robin Burtonʼs son? His nephew? His brother? A bloodline relative?

Even if he wasnʼt, he was unmistakably aligned with him, bound to him, connected to him in a way that left no room for doubt.

So what was he doing here?

How had he risen to command the entire Centennial Cradle Empire?

What twisted path had brought him to this throne?

Woosh Woosh Woosh Woosh

Four shadows rushed in from the four corners of the chamber, each one armed with two or three planetary-grade weapons. Their killing intent spiked instantly, an oppressive pressure filling the hall as they prepared to strike Helen without hesitation.

But Caesar simply raised one hand-just one-and lowered it slowly.

A silent command.

A command strong enough to freeze all four of them mid-kill. Throughout it all, he never once broke eye contact with Helenʼs trembling, conflicted stare.

Meanwhile, his aura continued to deteriorate into something darker, colder, and infinitely more unnerving. His body temperature dropped, a chilling frost-like aura spreading outward, and the whiteness in his eyes intensified to a blinding degree. ”That hour... I still want it,” he murmured, his voice quiet yet carved from stone. ”..?!”