Lord of the Truth

"...I believe I've lingered here long enough."

(....) Slowly, Neri opened her eyes, her gaze serene yet curious. (What do you mean by that? Are you saying you're finally ready to leave this place?)

"Heh~ I had originally given myself a strict limit of one hundred years to complete my seclusion, after all. Even though I was well aware of the risks, of the tightening deadlines… I still had to do it. I had to take this risk to uncover new methods—new paths—to strengthen the army. There's still nine months left before I reach the hundred-year mark, but you've grown far too bothersome lately, so leaving a little early doesn't sound bad. Besides, all my major research is done. Only the fifth cultivation path remains unfinished." Robin's steps quickened as he moved with renewed purpose toward the mouth of the cave.

He soon reached a barrel filled with water just outside the cave's entrance. He leaned over and stared into his reflection on the surface. "Oof… what a miserable-looking man. If Zara were to see me like this, she'd probably kill me on the spot." He raised a single finger, and a small stream of water lifted from the barrel, swirling through the air before gathering around his fingertip, forming into a thin, razor-sharp blade. With care, he began trimming his long, tangled beard that had grown wild over the years.

Within his soul domain, Neri's initial look of surprise gradually melted into a smile of quiet satisfaction. (...) She gently shook her head. To think she had doubted this man's resolve—even for a second—was clearly a misjudgment. (So, tell me… what exactly are you planning to do next?)

"Hmm..." Robin finished neatening his beard until it was short, clean, and even. He then doused his unruly hair in water, letting the droplets soak into the thick strands before he began trimming that too. "First of all, I think it's only proper that I say farewell to the people in the village down below. I likely won't get the chance to see them again."

(Do you even know their names?) Evergreen raised one skeptical eyebrow, her tone dry and teasing. (You only go down there once every few years, and every time, you claim it's just to buy cooking supplies. But let's be honest—you do it just to see human faces again, to hear their voices. You have no personal connection with anyone in that place. Or... are you secretly hoping to catch one final glimpse of the dancers? Ah, of course—purely for your research, right? Hehe~)

Robin blinked in disbelief, baffled by the unwarranted accusation. "Neri, be a dear and smack that girl for me, would you?"

(Gladly!) Neri didn't need to hear the command twice.

(Ouch!!)

"Hmm~ Now this old man's looking handsome again," Robin muttered to himself with a slight grin. He had trimmed the sides of his hair down until they were short and tidy, leaving the top long enough to be styled. Satisfied, he nodded several times while examining himself in the reflection. It was the first time in his life he'd allowed himself a beard, and also the first time he had cut his hair this short. "I wonder how the boys will react when they see this. Hehe."

He pulled out a fresh set of white robes—ones he had purchased during his last visit to the village—and began putting them on with deliberate care. Once he was dressed, he dabbed a small amount of cheap perfume made from the nectar stag onto his neck.

Evergreen, watching this transformation unfold, rested her head in both palms and smiled slyly. (Uncle, are you aiming for more than just a final dance this time? Hehe— Ouch!!)

Neri didn't wait for permission this time. She gave Evergreen another satisfying slap.

"...." Once everything was done, Robin turned to take one final look at the cave's interior—and he smiled.

It was a humble, almost pitiful place: just a hole in the mountain, no larger than the room of a poor family. There was nothing inside except for a bed made of wooden logs and feathers, and a bear pelt stretched across the ground to serve as a rug. The walls—and even the ceiling—were covered in strange, chaotic drawings, the remnants of a mind at work over centuries.

This simple place had been the cradle of Robin's transformation, where he had spent most of his life—two long secluded retreats spanning a total of nearly 230 years. The first seclusion gave rise to The Truth Chosen and All-Seeing god's Candidate, Robin Burton… while the second would fuel the rise of the True Beginning Empire, and perhaps even reshape the universe itself once the fifth cultivation path was completed and made public.

"...Maybe I should turn this place into a tourist site," Robin muttered, scratching his short beard with a contemplative expression. "Charge one pearl per visit?"

After a moment of quiet thought, he gave a casual shrug and turned around, heading toward the exit of the cave. Once he reached the threshold, he paused briefly, raised his right hand slowly, and waved it with calm finality.

"Return."

*Woooo~*

With a sudden shimmer of energy and a resonant hum that seemed to tickle the very air, a series of radiant silver portals erupted into existence all around the small camp. These weren't just random bursts of energy—they were precise, intentional gateways summoned by design. They appeared right next to the soul creatures who had been busy moments ago—some were diligently roasting meat over an open flame, others had been dragging bundles of firewood across the clearing.

Each of these creatures paused, glanced at the portals with instinctive recognition, and, in an almost rehearsed manner, dusted off their hands or paws. Without hesitation, they leapt gracefully toward the swirling lights, disappearing into the brilliance in a blink—returning to their homeland, their purpose here fulfilled.

But that wasn't all.

The silver hue didn't just stop there. It expanded like a wave, like a silken sheet unfurling across the vast expanse of the beast zone. The entire region—both the outer perimeter and the deep inner sanctum of the wild territories—was blanketed in radiant silver light.

In the very next instant, thousands upon thousands of portals tore open across the landscape in perfect synchrony, each one spinning, pulsating, alive with magic. These were not crude rifts but refined, elegant arcs of power, pulling in every last wandering soul beast and creature that had served Robin's cause during his retreat. They were gathered swiftly, silently—no command needed. As if hearing a call from the stars, they answered.

Then, as quickly as they had appeared, the portals began to close, fading away like smoke in the wind, leaving not even a trace.

Robin watched it all with quiet satisfaction. Then he exhaled deeply.

"Hoooo…"

He stepped forward casually, and just like that—he vanished, disappearing entirely from the physical plane, leaving behind no sound but the faintest flutter of fabric against wind.

...Hours Later...

Only after nearly two full hours had passed did the beasts of the land begin to cautiously emerge from the shadows—one clawed footstep at a time. Their eyes darted left and right, wary, confused, perhaps still afraid. And then... they too sighed, sensing the tension had lifted.

With the area once again deemed safe, the creatures began to congregate near the abandoned campfire. A squabble soon erupted—a growling, snarling dispute over the remains of the roasted peacock that had been left behind at the mouth of the cave. It was a ridiculous, chaotic scene. But in its own way, it marked the return of normalcy.

------------------

Hanko Village —

Inhale...

Robin filled his lungs with the fresh morning air as he stood at the entrance of the village, now bathed in warm sunlight. A wide, genuine smile spread across his face—one filled with nostalgia, wonder, and a hint of amusement. His feet moved forward instinctively, drawn by the weight of memory.

This wasn't just any village. This was the very same place he had once visited regularly, centuries ago, during his early years in seclusion. Back then, he would descend every few years, carrying the finest leather hides to trade, and picking up spices, vegetables, and kitchen tools. It had been a routine. A comfort.

But now? The passage of time had rewritten the village entirely.

Two centuries. That's how long it had been. In that time, many generations had risen, lived, and passed on. The simple homes made from clay and straw that he once recognized had long since crumbled into dust. In their place stood new structures—built from sturdy timber, reinforced with metals, covered in tiled roofs and magical wards.

The borders of the village had expanded drastically. What was once a small cluster of homes nestled between the forest and the mountain had now become a thriving, buzzing trade hub—nearly three times its original size.

Yet somehow… despite all the changes, Robin could still feel the same essence.

The spirit of the village lingered.

This place had always sat on the edge of danger—a thin border between human civilization and the vast, unpredictable lands of the beasts. Because of that, its people had developed a very specific worldview: one shaped by risk, loss, and constant pragmatism.

Here, everyone understood that the man you greeted today might be devoured tomorrow. There was little space for sentiment, few tears shed. Relationships were efficient, calculated, and often fleeting. A culture of survival—disguised as commerce.

But something had shifted.

Because of the legend.

It was said, whispered in reverent tones and passed down through generations, that His Majesty—the one who would one day reshape the very fabric of the universe—had spent his formative years meditating near this land. That story alone had transformed the village.

Pilgrims had come. Devotees. Traders hoping for blessing. Travelers chasing stories.

Population exploded. Structures grew taller. A once-forgotten village became a magnet for history-seekers and entrepreneurs alike.

But the most surreal change?

The people. They were no longer all human.

"Ohhh, Robitango! Is that you? I almost didn't recognize you!"

One merchant, clearly thrilled, waddled quickly toward Robin. He was a dwarf—barely waist-high, with a beard so thick it nearly brushed the ground. His eyes sparkled with genuine excitement.

"You look so young now! What did you do?!"

Robin chuckled. "The secret lies in the yellow lily near the western mountain," he said, patting the dwarf's shoulder. "Harvest it. Sell it. You'll find luck smiling upon you."

He wasn't lying. That plant truly did have excellent restorative properties, especially for skin health. And this merchant? He was one of the few genuinely kind and honest ones in the area—always offering sound advice to fledgling adventurers.

"Ohh! Thank you, Robitango!!" the dwarf cried joyfully before hugging Robin's leg in excitement, then scurrying off toward the west with eager determination.

"Hey there, good day!" Robin waved next to a tall woman—with six legs instead of two. She smiled and waved back casually, unfazed.

This was the new Hanko.

The village was now home to a dazzling variety of races and species. Dwarves. Starlings. Half-humans. And even humans with unfamiliar physical traits, like Nihari humans.

Robin had theorized this outcome long ago—interplanetary integration was bound to blur the boundaries between species. But the extent... and the pace... had shocked even him.

Humans from Jura, and beings from distant star systems, now walked side by side. Laughing. Trading. Arguing over prices. As if they had lived together for millennia.

It was a new world.

And yet, for Robin—it felt like coming home.