Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1847 Chasing the Ghost of Perfection - 2

Fortunately, the five Greed Crucibles and the massive expansion of the construction and repair arsenal had not yet been enough to completely disrupt the empireʼs delicate balance. Emily, with her unparalleled genius and

meticulous precision, managed to regain control of the spiraling situation with remarkable speed.

She seized every opportunity, exploiting the ongoing war against the Shining Torrent Empire, carefully identifying and targeting planets rich in the specific metals and raw materials required for her complex operations. Each choice was deliberate, calculated, and executed with surgical precision.

Despite her extraordinary abilities, even she could only barely bring the empireʼs budget back into equilibrium, a task she accomplished through relentless effort, meticulous calculations, and sleepless nights. Every planet, every mine, every shipment had to be accounted for.

Yet, as soon as she managed to stabilize the numbers, a sudden, catastrophic development struck like a hammer, threatening to obliterate all her painstaking work and throw the empireʼs resource management into utter chaos.

Her Highness Zara, aware of the growing urgency, sent an urgent request to her father, His Majesty, seeking alternative raw materials and specialized inks needed for the production of high-level epic equipment. As always, His Majesty lived up to his legendary reputation. Within mere weeks, Harper returned, laden with a comprehensive set of recommendations, formulas, and innovative approaches. These instructions would allow Her Highness Zara to produce high-level epic equipment in the Young Belt, entirely bypassing the need for any of the rare and costly fifth-grade raw materials previously considered indispensable.

Yet, the alternatives proposed by His Majesty were neither abundant nor cheap. Their acquisition required enormous sums, rare planetary resources, and painstaking coordination across multiple sectors of the empire. The production of high-level epic equipment alone caused a staggering deficit of 400 million Pearls per year, a number that would be unfathomable for most even to imagine.

This situation, however, marked a historic milestone for the empire. Producing high-level epic equipment was an achievement that even most millennial empires across the universe could not accomplish. Only a handful of the greatest powers in the cosmos had the ability to create such items, and those who did often sold the majority of their creations immediately to recoup the immense costs and secure profits.

A single full set of high-level epic equipment? Such a thing was virtually unattainable. It was never offered for sale, regardless of price. The best chance one could hope for was a single component, like the one that the Shadow Swords had obtained for Marshal Caesar at the cost of 1.6 million Pearls. Each piece of epic equipment had been painstakingly crafted over decades, sometimes even centuries. They were scattered across the stars, each uniquely imbued with its own subtle characteristics, almost as if each item had a distinct personality, a will of its own.

The equipment functioned almost like planetary weapons. For a Nexus State or even a Monarch who lacked a high-quality planetary weapon, obtaining high-level epic equipment was not merely advantageous-it could be decisive, altering the balance of power in entire regions.

And yet, the numbers remained staggering. 400 million Pearls per year. Over the first century of production efforts, this accumulated to an astonishing 40 billion Pearls. And this was only the scale of this one industry alone, one aspect of the empireʼs intricate and interwoven resource management.

The output?

Only 100 pieces per year.

Yes, not a full set, but 100 pieces. Each individual piece cost the empire roughly three to five million Pearls in resources, depending on its size, complexity, and intended battlefield application. The reason for such staggering expense was simple yet unforgiving: to achieve the same-if not higher-level of quality as other high-level epic equipment using alternative materials and substitutes, every calculation, alloy mixture, and refinement step had to be precise to perfection. Any deviation risked producing a weapon that fell short of the epic standard.

At present, several specialized factories had been established in the northern region of Nihari, devoted exclusively to producing swords, halberds, and bows -offensive pieces intended for deployment exclusively to elite units: the imperial guards, the Shadow Swords, and specialized strike forces. As of now, no complete set of high-level epic equipment had ever been designed. For more than fifty years, the design remained unfinished, locked in a state of perpetual incompletion. Some engineers even whispered that completing such a set was more challenging than executing the blueprint for a capital ship itself -an almost impossible feat.

Yet, no one seemed to be in any rush to finish the sets. Even if the factories could produce a hundred pieces a year, that would amount to only about five complete sets-or perhaps even fewer. And in this current era, where wars erupted across the galaxy with ruthless frequency, the production of individual weapons held far greater strategic value than completing fully coordinated sets of equipment. One precise sword, one effective Halberds, one perfectly tuned bow could turn the tide of a skirmish or protect an entire planetary garrison. ”....” Emily pressed her temples forcefully, feeling the weight of responsibility crush her.

Even after exploiting resources day and night to the limits of possibility, she still had to request that the Shadow Swords provide a staggering 400 million Pearls annually-an almost incomprehensible figure, one equivalent to the entire treasury of a Centennial Empire in the Mid belt! Every shipment had to be accounted for, every resource tracked meticulously, or else the delicate machinery of empire would start to fail.

Of course, such an enormous number could be offset if the empire chose to sell part of its output: perhaps a Note Fleet, a set of lower-tier epic equipment, or surplus production. This was standard practice in militarized empires across the cosmos-produce the weapons, then sell them to recover costs and fund future production, especially when the entire budget was dedicated to manufacturing.

But here, that option was forbidden. Every piece, every sword, every bow, had to serve the empireʼs never-ending wars. None could ever fall into the hands of those who might one day wield them against the empire. This restriction created an almost paradoxical dilemma: pouring resources endlessly into an output that could never generate profit, an eternal, inescapable problem for

Emily.

For someone whose mind relentlessly pursued perfection, the attempt to keep up with rapid production had become a living nightmare. The balance she once thought manageable now teetered on the brink of collapse.

Knock Knock

The massive, reinforced door was tapped gently. A voice followed, crisp and formal: ”My Lady Head of the Headquarters, today the negotiations with the Shining Torrent Centennial Empire to secure a ceasefire will begin. Can you

attend?”

”Hmm?” Emily furrowed her brow, slowly turning to face the door. ”What does this have to do with me? Prime Minister Kristan is the empireʼs official representative. This is his responsibility, not mine.”

The True Beginning Empire, however, had resolved to annihilate the Shining Torrent Empire entirely after their recent treacherous move. The First and Second Armies had united in an unprecedented campaign and struck them without mercy. Several world cataclysms realm demons had swept through the Shining Torrentʼs forces, leaving devastation in their wake.

The results delighted the First and Second Armies beyond measure. No longer did they have to waste time hunting suitable planets, subjugating local populations, or navigating the complex engagement laws decreed by His Majesty. Against the Shining Torrent Empire, all they had to do was locate the planets, eliminate the soldiers, and claim them as their own. Simple, brutal, and effective. This efficiency brought immense satisfaction-they eagerly halted expansion in other regions to focus on devouring the Shining Torrent Empire.

In just two decades, the Shining Torrent Empire had been stripped of half of its planets, with the remaining half on the verge of collapse. In only twenty years, the millennial Shining Torrent Empire-which had existed for 470,000 years, ruling Sector 100 of the Young Belt unchallenged-had been reduced to a mere Centennial Empire.

A cosmic war on a sector-wide scale? No, it was a massacre of unprecedented,

one-sided ferocity.

And whenever the Shining Torrent Empire attempted to resist or launch counterattacks on the planets of the True Beginning Empire, they were consistently thwarted-not by armies, but by the empireʼs police forces.

The police!!