Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1193 1193: Conversation with an Overlord-1

”…I understand that you have an Overlord — that fact shines as clearly as the midday sun. I do not know who they are, but I assure you of this: I am stronger than them, wealthier than them, and my influence stretches farther than their reach ever could.”

”…..”

Robinʼs expression didnʼt flicker. He neither flinched nor reacted — his gaze remained steady, unshaken. He didnʼt appear impressed, but neither did he seem skeptical.

Stronger, wealthier, and more influential than my Overlord, he thought. Is that even possible?

If Robin considered The All-Seeing God to be his Overlord then this woman was making a bold claim. A claim laced with both arrogance and conviction.

Was she truly stronger than the All-Seeing God? He had no way to confirm.

The All-Seeing God had wielded advanced stages of essential Heavenly laws like time, life easily. He had seen glimpses of realities that should not exist, moments plucked out of possible futures. But this woman, this fox queen, she moved with the kind of confidence that didnʼt feel rehearsed. Even in her fragmented, incomplete form — a mere soul shard — her presence carried weight. It was hard to judge her full might.

As for her wealth… well, Robin had no real doubts there.

After all, he had heard the full story from Deivos the Transcendent.

Planet Gudah — his planet now — was rich in elemental resources. Natural Ice Pearls. Flame Pearls. Natural cores and subterranean veins humming with raw elemental energy and rare materials. And yet… she had ignored all of it. She had overlooked what entire planetary empires would wage wars for, and focused entirely on the fox. On cultivating and preserving the bloodline of the Deivosians. On turning the entire planet into a sanctuary for a single creature.

That… was not poverty. That was strategy. Long-term vision.

Most likely, she was waiting. Waiting for Gudah to ascend from the Young Belt into the Middle Planetary Belt. Once it did, her soldiers could walk in through the spatial portal she had gifted to the locals. Those same locals who revered her, who considered her a benefactor, a guardian, even a deity, or even if some looked at here like some evil god. They would not resist. They would not fight.

She would take the planet without shedding a single drop of blood.

This was the brilliance of investing in young worlds. Of sowing seeds early and harvesting empires later.

Even the Great Serpent Empire operated on this same principle. If any of its nine sponsored planets evolved, they would be absorbed instantly into its dominion — no war, no conflict, just prearranged allegiance.

So no — her dismissal of Gudahʼs current wealth didnʼt mean she was unimaginably rich, but it certainly meant she wasnʼt in need.

But richer than The All-Seeing God?

That man had casually handed Robin the coordinates to Nihari and simply said, ”I want nothing from it.”

That kind of gesture… wasnʼt wealth. It was abundance beyond mortal comprehension.

And when it came to influence... Robin drummed his fingers gently against his thigh, deep in thought. Then, with calm curiosity, he asked: ”Do you know someone who goes by the name… The All-Seeing God?”

”Who?” Rinara blinked. Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

”…Never mind.” Robin exhaled through his nose, a long, slow breath.

The All-Seeing God... That being was a mystery even to this day. There were moments when Robin felt he was staring into the eyes of an ancient deity — a being whose power stretched beyond systems and centuries. And there were other times... when it felt like heʼd met a tired old man from the Middle Belt who just happened to know too much.

And now, with his absence since the end of the war...

What was he planning?

Robin had long hoped to meet him again — if only to sever their connection properly. Maybe... maybe the Seer had already done that himself. Maybe Robin completing the mission had been enough.

Robin rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment, then glanced up toward her, his voice soft but steady.

”Tell me more about your empire.”

The soul shard shimmered faintly at his request, ”The Empire of the Nine Paths has a recorded history that spans over seven million years,” she said, her voice rich with pride. ”It was founded by my great-grandfather. Then it passed to my father, who stabilized it, expanded it, and set the foundation for our planetary dominance.”

”And now,” she said, straightening her posture slightly, ”I carry that legacy forward.”

Her nine ethereal tails shimmered gently behind her, shifting like veils of moonlight.

”Under my direct command are ninety-one planets. We are only nine planets away from earning the sacred classification of a Centennial Planetary Empire.”

She let the words sink in, then tilted her chin upward ever so slightly.

”So unless your Overlord commands an ancient centennial empire of his own I find it hard to believe there is any real competition. Even the newer centennial empires, those who have risen quickly through brute force or fleeting alliances… they cannot compare to us. They lack the heritage. The history. The depth. The weight of seven million years of accumulated knowledge and power.”

”Seven million years… and only ninety-one planets?” Robin murmured, his voice low yet deliberately audible, as if speaking more to himself than to her.

Across from him, Rinaraʼs lips curled into a composed, knowing smile. In most political courts or negotiation tables, such numbers would be flaunted like royal jewels. To survive even a single additional day in the vicious, endlessly contested warzone known as the Middle Planetary Belt was considered a triumph. But seven million years?

Robinʼs silence lingered, deep in contemplation. Then he leaned slightly forward, his tone still casual, but edged with curiosity.

”Isnʼt that… a bit too few, considering the span of time? Ninety-one planets over seven million years?”

Rinara blinked once, clearly surprised. Her smile faltered just enough to show genuine astonishment. ”Few? Few? Ninety-one mid-belt planets — and you call that few?” She let out a short laugh, half amused, half incredulous. ”Who fed you such expectations? Do you even remotely grasp what it means to own one planet in the Middle Belt?”

”The 100th planetary sector was already divided, claimed, and fortified by countless superpowers tens of millions of years ago. That was during the era we now call the Great Colonization, led by the tyrant Interas, whose ambitions reshaped the balance of power forever.”

She leaned forward slightly, voice sharpening as the weight of her words grew heavier.

”From that time until now, seizing a single planet has been a challenge beyond belief. And building an empire of even five or six? Thatʼs not ambition — thatʼs practically a declaration of endless, bloody war. You have to kill those already in power, then hold the planet day and night, every second, against retaliation. You donʼt just own a planet. You bleed for it. And even then, your control is always at risk.”

”Throughout these millions of years,” she continued, voice calmer but still intense, ”monsters have risen — geniuses who shattered ancient legacies, brought down empires, and built their own from the rubble. But each time, greater monsters followed. And they were crushed in turn. This is the cycle of the Middle Belt.”

”If someone manages to cling to even one planet for a few thousand years, that alone earns them the right to walk with pride. If you survive there — even without expansion — youʼre a force to be respected. So imagine holding on to not one… but ninety-one. And not just for a few millennia — for seven million years. Thatʼs not just survival. Thatʼs an empire tempered in hellfire.”

Robin exhaled softly, lips parting into a low whistle of appreciation. Her words didnʼt just make sense — they confirmed theories heʼd already begun to form.

This was why emperors of the Middle Belt invested in younger worlds like his. Not out of kindness or vision — but because it was cheaper to wait. Wait for a planet to rise. Support the locals. Give them tools, techniques, bloodlines. And the moment they ascended? Their planet would fall into the investorʼs hands without shedding a drop of blood.

It also reaffirmed what heʼd once heard described in hushed tones — the hell that awaited young planets after ascension.

The moment a world entered the Middle Belt, it became a battlefield. Everyone would want a piece. Because no one claimed it yet.

”I think… youʼre right,” Robin said at last, offering a respectful nod. ”I spoke too quickly — my mistake.”

A moment passed before he tilted his head, offering a more thoughtful question.

”In that case… let me ask something that fits the situation better. When you inherited your empire from your father… how many planets did you begin with?”

Rinara didnʼt speak immediately. Her silence stretched longer than expected — a pause filled with calculation. But eventually, she met his gaze again. And when she answered, it was with calm, unshakable pride:

”…I inherited ninety-five planets.”