Lord of the Truth

155 years had passed since Robin first entered the Mid-Sector 100— on the forsaken planet of Zerph.

Clatter… Clatter…

Upon one of the tallest peaks, where snow never fell but the wind howled like ancient beasts, a lone figure stood against the sky. He was clad in a full suit of obsidian-black armor, its surface adorned with mesmerizing golden filigree that shimmered like stardust. Draped behind him, a long golden cloak billowed violently in the cold winds—emblazoned at its center was the unmistakable insignia of a black flame, burning not with heat, but with meaning.

With measured grace, the armored figure accepted a small scroll, its paper bound by an arcane seal still faintly glowing. Without hesitation, he crushed the seal in his palm with a crack, and unrolled the parchment between both gauntleted hands.

Silence. His eyes scanned the message—cold, calculating.

Then woosh—a flicker of flame ignited from his fingertips and consumed the scroll to ash in a breath. He raised his head toward the cloud-streaked sky, clasping his hands behind his back with a huff of disdain.

"Tsk~ What do I care for news about that bastard Hulak and the rest of the children playing war? Where is the news that matters—news of His Majesty?! You've grown far too soft. Perhaps we should start calling you 'Shadow Daggers'... or even 'Shadow Clippers'. Clearly, the title of Swords has grown too heavy for your shoulders."

From behind him, a calm but firm voice responded.

"Why the bitterness now, Supreme General?" Kiri, standing in the shadow of the cliffside, raised her eyebrows slightly. "We are exhausting every avenue to locate His Majesty. But we're not searching a single city, or even a handful of worlds—we are casting our nets across a sea of millions of planets. And for all we know, His Grace may have already left this region entirely—seeking refuge beyond this domain to escape the rumors that now bind his name to Sector 100. In fact, we've shifted even more of our efforts into Sector 99. We believe it may be a natural path he would take."

Caesar's face darkened, his golden eyes narrowing as he clenched his jaw.

"Sector 99? You mean to tell me that after all this time, we still have no real leads? What of Planet Zaron? The Imperial Portal keepers of the Nine Paths Palace said he passed through that trade planet. That was the last confirmed location."

Kiri lowered her gaze slightly.

"He did go to Zaron. But we got the information nearly twenty years after his presence there. There's no chance he stayed that long—especially with the kind of attention he's begun to attract. His Majesty is no fool. He wouldn't let himself be caged in a spotlight. By now, he could have passed through hundreds of planets."

"Damn it all…"

Caesar turned with frustration, his teeth gritted.

"My father—His Majesty—don't desired this kind of fame. If anything, it's a burden he's always despised. Right now, I know he's moving in shadows... carefully, cautiously, trying to anticipate every consequence. He's worried. Maybe even afraid of what comes next."

He pointed toward Kiri, his tone rising.

"Tell Theo… I am prepared to relinquish the entire First Army's operational budget if it guarantees His Majesty's safe return. If he can promise me he will use it well, it's his."

Kiri bowed her head solemnly.

"Understood, Supreme General."

Then, with the practiced grace of a ghost, she retreated into the darkness behind them.

A deep sigh escaped Caesar as he folded his arms tightly across his armored chest, once again facing the mountain's edge.

"Tsk~ The bones of the Shadow Swords have grown frail…"

"Hah, give them credit where it's due," a voice said with a chuckle.

From behind him, a young warrior approached, clad in the same obsidian armor—though the golden filigree on his suit was arranged like branching veins of divine lightning. His gait was steady, his presence confident.

"The Shadow Swords have carved out a terrifyingly vast reach across Mid-Sector 100 and even into 99. Their influence runs deeper than many are willing to admit. Even the ancient guilds of assassins and spies have begun hiring the Shadow Swords to carry out their hardest work."

He paused and smiled faintly.

"Truth is… if they weren't ours, we'd be emptying our coffers trying to buy their help in finding His Majesty."

Caesar remained silent for a long breath, then spoke in a softer tone.

"...I'm just worried. He's extended himself too far, too fast, across a landscape too wide. I can't tell anymore what he's thinking… or if even he can."

The younger warrior stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Caesar's armored back.

"Don't worry, Supreme General. Theo worries for His Majesty just as deeply—perhaps even more. Finding him is not just a mission—it is his burden. A vow he carved into his own bones. And as for us…"

He gestured downward to the unseen world below.

"…we have our own responsibilities. Ones we'll be held to when His Majesty returns. And return… he will."

RUMBLE… RUMBLE…

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!

"…"

After holding his gaze over the battlefield for several long, heavy seconds, Caesar gave a firm, resolute nod. Without a word, he turned and walked slowly—each footstep steady and deliberate—until he reached a man seated on a grand, worn chair carved into the very peak of the mountain.

This was no ordinary man.

He was a hybrid—half-human, half-fox—his presence emanating both ancient calm and untamed danger. Behind him, seven majestic tails fluttered in the wind like the banners of an extinct empire, each glowing faintly with primal energy. His eyes were closed. His body—still as stone. The world roared around him, but he sat untouched, undisturbed... as if he were one with the mountain itself.

Caesar stopped before him, raised his head high with the utmost reverence, clasped his hands behind his back, and spoke in a voice that was respectful yet clear:

"Supervisor, sir… the army is ready. We await your signal."

There was no reply—only the whisper of the wind.

Then, after a moment of stillness, the elder raised one hand, fingers flicking in a slow, effortless gesture—twice, as if pushing away dust. That was all. No words. No ceremony. The command had been given.

Caesar nodded solemnly and turned back to face the edge of the mountain. He took a deep, steadying breath that filled his lungs with the sharp, thin air of war, then unleashed a roar of power, amplified by the sheer might of a Level 50 Martial Emperor:

"SOLDIERS OF THE FIRST ARMY… ARE YOU READY?!"

"AHUAAAAAAAA!!"

Though Caesar stood atop a mountain towering over two thousand meters high, the thunderous reply from below made the very cliffside tremble beneath his boots. The stones cried out in response.

"Through your unyielding bravery… and by the divine blessing of His Majesty… we have become a force that cannot be broken. We are no longer a prey to anyone. We are no longer the ones waiting in fear, trembling in silence, hoping the invaders pass us by. Today, we become the conquerors. We bring the war to their doorstep!"

"AHUAAAAAAAA!!"

"With our First Army alone, we seized two planets in the Mid-Belt. We shattered their illusions and burned their banners. And now, today, we do it again. This is the turning point. This is our moment of reckoning. TODAY, YOU BRING ME THE THIRD PLANET. TODAY, YOU BRING IT FOR THE EMPIRE OF TRUE BEGINNING!!"

"AHUAAAAAA!! AHUAAAAAA!! AHUAAAAAA!!"

"ADVANCE!"

BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!!

From the base of the mountain, dust erupted into the sky like volcanic ash. Thirty thousand armored Terra Beasts, each ridden by a deadly Martial Emperor, began to march forward in perfect synchrony, their steps pounding the earth like divine drums of war.

Above Caesar, the skies turned blood-red. With a deafening screech, five thousand winged Draco Beasts surged from the clouds like a plague of ancient beasts. Each one bore a Special Forces Emperor on its back, gleaming in golden-black armor, eyes glowing like gods of war descending to pass judgment.

On the far side of the battlefield, the enemy stirred.

From across the valley came a dark tide—one million soldiers strong, charging either on foot or atop monstrous wild boars, each beast large enough to carry twenty men without slowing. Above them soared tens of thousands of flying creatures, grotesque hybrids of boar and eagle, shrieking as they circled the sky in anticipation of blood.

The sight alone would cripple the hearts of lesser men. The sheer magnitude of the enemy force made the ground quake and the skies burn with dread.

But not a single step of the Golden Army faltered. Not a single warrior turned away.

"Hah! I better jump in now before you all hog the glory!"

With laughter booming like thunder, Raiden launched himself from the mountaintop, his body a streak of lightning as he plummeted toward the battlefield. He landed with earth-shaking impact, then raced to the very front of the vanguard, spear in hand and eyes ablaze.

"That fat beast leading the enemy? That's dinner for me tonight!"

But the enemy commander, riding atop the largest of the war boars, didn't flinch. He stood tall on the beast's back and bellowed toward the heavens, his voice a furious roar:

"CAESAAAAAR!! TODAY I TAKE YOUR HEAD! YOUR WHOLE ARMY WILL BE BURIED UNDER MY HEEL!"

"Heh… HAHAHAHAHA!!"

Back at the summit, Caesar let out a wild, fearless laugh. He drew forth his massive obsidian glaive, slid his black helm over his brow, and charged forward—leaping into the void like a falling meteor, a god of war descending upon the battlefield.

"COME THEN! CLAIM IT… MOOOTAA!!!"