Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1222 1222: Robinʼs character

”...So youʼre not a wielder of the Master Law of Truth, like you told me.”

Robinʼs voice trembled slightly, not from fear—no, he was long past that—but from the overwhelming weight of revelation pressing down upon his chest like an avalanche.

”Think of whatever answer would satisfy you most,” the All-Seeing god replied with a dismissive flick of the wrist, as if brushing away cosmic dust. ”Whichever version your mind clings to... let it be true. In a world as fluid as this, truth is often the most flexible element.”

Robin slowly lowered himself to the ground, legs folding beneath him until he sat in a crouched position. His gaze was distant, pupils unfocused, as if searching the void itself for something to anchor his spinning thoughts. It was too much—too many truths, too many secrets, all crashing down at once like waves against a brittle shore.

This All-Seeing god—this strange, enigmatic, timeless being—was far more than he had ever let on.

Someone who had moved through the ages, untouched by their decay, selecting candidates from the current of time like a fisherman choosing the most promising of fish.

Dozens. He had said dozens.

Dozens of *Children of Fate*

Each one had been marked by him.

Each had been branded with the golden mark—something the All-Seeing god casually referred to as a ”gift,” but which Robin now realized was a signature... a brand..

Each had been thrown into a grand cosmic boardgame—different realms, different stakes, different enemies—but all had one thing in common: the burden of impossible expectations.

”...What happened to the ones who succeeded? Robin asked, his voice low, controlled. The question felt heavier than any sword he had ever lifted. ”You said some of them found glory. Explain that to me... I need to understand.”

He needed to know.

Because now, more than ever, Robin realized how impossible this path truly was.

He had been given a mission that spanned fifty years into the future—a task that required him to anticipate, prepare, and evolve to fight a Nexus Being.

And that was just his path. What of the others?

The humanoid light gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable.

”Not every mission looked like yours. Some were far less grand... and others far more subtle. I always prepare a variety of boards scattered across the stars—some in distant nebulae, some hidden within ancient empires, some deep in realms untouched by light or time.

When I find a candidate... I assign them a mission that matches not just their strength, but their nature. Their inclinations. Their flaws. Their essence.”

He pointed at Robin then, a single finger extended as if to pierce through his soul.

”You, for instance, were surrounded by armies, already gathering influence, building a legacy of control and power. So I matched you with a battlefield worthy of your ambition—the brewing war between Helen and Rinara. It was fitting. But not all paths are so overtly militaristic or empire-shattering.”

The Seer clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing slowly.

”One successful mission I remember required infiltrating a stellar academy—rising through the ranks, mastering its hidden disciplines, and toppling its corrupt leaders from within. Another involved seducing the daughter of a galactic monarch to incite civil war.”

Then he chuckled, almost wistfully.

”Not everything must be blood and steel. Sometimes, whispers echo louder than cannon fire.”

He turned back to Robin.

”Even your mission, despite its grand scale, was not originally about empire. You misinterpreted it, perhaps... or maybe you chose to misinterpret it, because that was what you knew how to do.”

He spread his arms wide, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher revealing a final lesson.

”The optimal flow of fate in your case was for you to fail at uniting Néhari. That failure wouldʼve taught you humility, forced you to accept that force alone was not enough. It wouldʼve pushed you toward personal growth, toward deepening your own strength in solitude. Over fifty years, you wouldʼve grown... transformed.

And when the invasion finally came, youʼd have been ready—not with armies, but with clarity. You wouldʼve captured enemy scouts, learned their tactics, perhaps disguised yourself as one of them. You wouldʼve infiltrated the Empire of the Great Serpent, disrupted it from within, or followed their coordinates back to their worlds and brought ruin where they least expected it.”

Then, the Seer gestured downward several times.

”That path—the one I just described—was the one 60% of your predecessors would have followed. It was efficient. It was subtle. It was effective.”

His voice darkened just a touch.

”As for the others, the more hot-blooded among them, they would have chosen violence. They would hunt the Great Serpentʼs fleets directly, attempting to destroy them with their Master Laws. And they would fail. Every single one. Hellen would only need to send one of her generals after them.”

Then, suddenly, the All-Seeing god burst into laughter—a loud, unrestrained laugh that echoed off the unseen walls around them.

”But you? You found yourself unwelcomed by the inhabitants of the planet, and what did you do? You built an empire! You brought an entire army from another world just to make your presence known. Ha! Brilliantly excessive!”

He turned to Robin, eyes glittering with amusement.

”Letʼs take a little detour and measure your... letʼs call it ʼunique approachʼ against the methods your brothers took on their missions, shall we? For example, there was that one mission—seducing a noblemanʼs daughter. That candidate succeeded by entering a secluded cultivation realm with her, under the guise of some competitive training. Once inside, he manipulated the situation with subtle charm, deceit, and just the right amount of danger to entice her. Very poetic, very messy.”

He paused, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

”Now, if you had received that exact same mission, I imagine youʼd have taken an entirely different route. You would have probably built an empire first, ensured your rank and status were beyond reproach, and then marched to her fatherʼs doorstep, dressed in formal regalia, and politely asked for her hand in marriage. Maybe even hosted a diplomatic summit over it.”

He shook his head in mock disbelief before continuing.

”Letʼs not forget the mission that involved infiltrating a stellar academy and climbing to its peak of power. That candidate turned to assassinations, sowed chaos in the ranks, and wrapped the administration around his finger with webs of influence and manipulation. Ruthless, but effective. But you? No, no. Youʼd have enrolled officially, founded a faction bearing your name, submitted dozens of contribution papers, reshaped the very core of the academyʼs research programs, and eventually been voted into leadership by a landslide. All nice and clean, with everyone clapping.”

”I honestly canʼt tell if thatʼs a compliment or an insult,” Robin said, shaking his head slowly.

The All-Seeing god spoke as if Robin were some noble paragon, but the undercurrent of mockery in his voice was impossible to ignore.

”Itʼs neither,” the humanoid light replied flatly, his face unusually serious for a brief moment. ”Itʼs simply... your nature. When confronted with uncertainty or resistance, you default to overwhelming force and long-term domination. You seek stability in strength, not chaos. You build fortresses where others dig foxholes. You form armies when others whisper in the dark. And you surround yourself with people you treat as family. I suppose thatʼs linked to your past, yes? All that loneliness and abandonment? It lingers, doesnʼt it? Even now.”

”Stay focused,” Robin snapped, his tone curt. He had no interest in being psychoanalyzed by this manipulative immortal being.

The Seer only shrugged.

”What else is there to say? Yes, some of your fellow candidates succeeded in their assignments. Some sparked wars that engulfed galaxies. Ancient powers vanished. New orders rose from the ashes. A few of them are legends now in their own corners of the universe... and yet,” he let out a long sigh, ”thatʼs all it amounted to.”

”Thatʼs all?” Robinʼs voice sharpened, disbelief coloring his words. ”What do you mean thatʼs all? What more could you possibly want beyond a cosmic war?”

The truth of it all hit Robin in waves. This man—no, this being—wasnʼt just some puppet master. He had caused multiple cosmic disasters already.

And now he sat here, speaking as if that wasnʼt enough?

”Little brother...” the All-Seeing godʼs voice dropped, quieter now, deeper. ”Do you really think I orchestrate cosmic wars just to snack on popcorn and enjoy the spectacle? Do you think I enjoy watching stars die and civilizations crumble for sport?”

His gaze burned now, intense.

”No. The war itself? Itʼs nothing but a spark. What matters is what comes after. The aftermath. The shift. The meaning. The result. My pawns—your brothers and sisters—they managed to light that spark, yes... but none of them had the strength, the vision, or the will to see it through to the end.”

His words thundered in the air like a stormcloud.

”Some survived. A few earned recognition. But none—not one—claimed the true glory. The ultimate triumph. The apex of purpose I had offered them.”

Robin scoffed under his breath, bitterness lacing his voice.

”What a wretched idea of glory...”

The humanoid light went silent. His eyes studied Robin for a long, still moment. Then, without a word, he turned and began walking slowly to the side, hands folding behind his back again like a disappointed teacher.

”Under different circumstances, those words alone would be enough to warrant annihilation,” he said, his voice calm but cold. ”But Iʼll let it go. Youʼre still ignorant of the path, and Iʼll pretend I didnʼt hear it.”

He lifted a hand, motioning vaguely in Robinʼs direction, still facing away.

”The glory I speak of has nothing to do with wealth, or power, or indulgence. It is something eternal. Real. Something so profound that, if you were to feel even a fraction of it, youʼd beg to take back those words you just spat out.”

His voice softened, carrying a strange kind of warmth.

”Itʼs something you once dreamed of, back when you were just a child, isnʼt it?”

Robin stood in silence, his eyes lowering to the ground as memories stirred within him. Another long pause.

”....Why are we still talking?” he finally asked, softly. ”Do you appear to mock all your pawns after they fail? Is this some ritual of yours? A farewell before you let me die in peace?”

The All-Seeing god stopped in his tracks, and for a moment, a nostalgic smile crossed his lips. His voice returned to a gentle cadence, laced with something older than time.

”Since the incident in the cave has come up so often in this conversation, allow me to repeat something I said to you back then.”

He turned, eyes shining, and folded his hands behind his back once more.

”Robin... do you want another chance?”