Lord of the Truth

Chapter 2293: Good man

".....?!" Saher’s eyes flew wide open, and his entire body stiffened at the sudden appearance that had come without the slightest warning, fluctuation, or trace for anyone to detect beforehand. Yet even as shock gripped him, his mind instantly shifted into a state of hostility and battle readiness, every instinct forged through countless battles roaring to life as he prepared himself for the possibility that the newcomer might be an enemy.

"....?!" Arkail of Time placed both hands firmly upon the armrests of his throne before slowly pushing himself to his feet, his eyes just as wide as he stared intently at the newcomer, as though both his eyes and his soul needed confirmation before he could believe what he was seeing. "Lord Robin... is that you?"

"Lord Robin?!" Saher’s thoughts collapsed instantly, his mind going completely blank for a brief moment before countless questions exploded within it.

He had spoken with the human lord several times before the Soul Society was established, but throughout every one of those meetings, all he had ever seen was that metallic face. That mask had never left Lord Robin’s face for even a single moment, whether during official meetings, private conversations, or casual encounters, to the point that the mask itself had become inseparable from the identity of Lord Robin in everyone’s minds.

As for the founding of the Sacred Covenant Academy... the countless rumors regarding his friendship with the Elder Cosmic... and the increasingly widespread stories about an empire known as the "True Beginning"... none of those events had anything whatsoever to do with Lord Robin’s actual appearance. Up until this very moment, only his own followers had ever laid eyes upon his true face.

Even the major powers that had desperately attempted to gather intelligence on him possessed nothing beyond vague descriptions and endless speculation, while every portrait or illustration circulating throughout the sectors was nothing more than an artist’s imagination built upon rumors.

"Oh, it seems I’m rather famous around here. Good." Robin smiled faintly as he began walking toward Arkail with his usual composed and restrained expression. "My apologies for arriving so uninvited."

"....." Arkail nodded after a brief pause, forcing himself to regain his composure. "Not a problem at all. As a matter of fact, we were discussing the current state of the war just moments ago."

He then turned toward Saher without taking his eyes off Robin for long.

"Bring a seat for Lord Robin!"

"At once!" Saher answered without the slightest hesitation.

He already possessed several thrones and chairs inside his spatial ring, but he naturally understood exactly what his father meant. This was not a simple request to provide a place to sit. Arkail was ordering him to bring a throne worthy of someone he had publicly acknowledged as his partner. Any chair that differed in quality, craftsmanship, or dignity from Arkail’s own throne would amount to a direct insult, regardless of anyone’s intentions.

"No need." Robin replied calmly.

Then, whoosh, the instant his next step touched the ground, something extraordinary happened before everyone’s eyes.

The desert sands directly before Arkail silently began to separate as though an invisible force were gently parting them, and from beneath them rose a magnificent stone throne identical in every conceivable detail to the one upon which Arkail himself sat. Its proportions, carvings, polish, and craftsmanship were flawless, and it came to rest directly opposite Arkail’s own seat as though it had always belonged there.

Nor did the phenomenon end there.

A small stone table emerged between the two thrones, carved from precisely the same material and fashioned with exactly the same sculpting techniques, to the point that it genuinely appeared as though the very artist who had crafted Arkail’s throne long ago had personally returned to create this matching piece.

Off to one side, three additional seats slowly rose from beneath the sand in perfect alignment. Though slightly less majestic than the two primary thrones, they remained exceptionally refined, each accompanied by its own matching table, together forming what looked less like something hastily created and more like a reception area that had existed beneath the desert for countless years.

"...?!" Saher stood frozen where he was, completely speechless, unable to decide whether he should continue walking, bow, or simply continue staring.

Many experts and veteran warriors—including himself—could manipulate the terrain through overwhelming power, forcing the earth to assume various shapes. If he wished, he too could slam his foot into the ground and produce a seat.

But the result would merely be a crude chair formed from compressed sand, rough around the edges and lacking any genuine craftsmanship, resembling something a child might mold while playing on a beach.

This...

No.

This was not something that could ever be achieved through raw power alone.

"...?" Arkail lowered only his eyes for a brief moment to examine the newly formed furniture before raising his gaze back to Robin’s face, his expression noticeably more serious than before.

"Fundamental Reshaping Law... or the Master Creation Law?"

"The Master Creation Law." Robin answered honestly, without the slightest intention of concealing it.

By then he had already reached his newly formed throne, and with a relaxed gesture he motioned for Arkail to resume his seat.

"Please. Our discussion may take quite some time. There’s no need for either of us to remain standing."

Robin then sat down as well as naturally as though he had been sitting there from the very beginning.

"....?" Arkail knitted his brows for a brief moment while contemplating that answer before quietly returning to his own throne. After settling into his seat, he tilted his head ever so slightly toward the small gateway Robin had used to enter.

"Fundamental Space Law... or the Master Spacetime Law?"

"The Master Spacetime Law." Robin nodded without hesitation.

".....?!" The expression in Arkail’s eyes as he looked at Robin became extraordinarily peculiar, carrying unmistakable surprise mixed with deep contemplation, yet even that could not compare to the look on Saher’s face. The latter’s thoughts had already become a complete mess as one impossible revelation after another unfolded before him, each one overturning everything he believed he knew about the man standing before them.

Hummm...

At that very moment, Glatheon stepped through the gateway, supporting Richard as the latter leaned heavily against him while slowly making his way inside. Richard’s breathing remained steady, yet every step seemed to demand tremendous effort, as though his exhausted body and battered soul were being forced forward purely through stubborn determination.

"Oh," Robin casually gestured behind him without turning around, "I brought my son along to get some fresh air, as well as another companion. I hope that won’t be an inconvenience or disrupt your hospitality."

"...Not at all." Arkail replied in his usual calm tone, although his attention immediately shifted toward the two newcomers, carefully examining them with a single sweeping glance that missed almost nothing.

One of them bore no visible external injuries whatsoever, yet his condition was obviously terrible. He appeared utterly drained, physically exhausted, mentally fatigued, and even the state of his soul suggested that it had endured a level of strain bordering on complete collapse, as though it had only recently survived an unimaginably fierce ordeal.

The other, however, radiated power. A Guardian, by all appearances. His skin shimmered like a flawless sculpture carved from living ice, a natural crystalline crown adorned his head without the aid of any artifact, and an intensely cold aura quietly surrounded his body, causing the surrounding air to feel subtly heavier despite remaining perfectly under control.

Arkail’s brows immediately knitted together ever so slightly.

"Glatheon?"

"Oh, Your Majesty, one moment please." Glatheon continued walking beside Richard without stopping until he gently helped him settle into one of the three side seats, making sure he was seated comfortably before finally stepping away. Only then did he place a hand over his chest and offer Arkail a respectful bow. "It is truly a pleasure to see Your Majesty once again after all this time."

"Hm?" Robin smiled with mild curiosity. "It seems you two are old acquaintances."

"I wish we were," Glatheon answered almost immediately with a modest smile. "Some time ago I was invited to attend Your Majesty’s ten-millionth birthday celebration, and I had the honor of meeting you there. Although our conversation was brief, the occasion itself left quite an impression on me."

"Ten million?" Robin let out a soft whistle before looking back toward Arkail with an amused smile. "That’s quite a lot of candles."

"They are merely social gatherings intended to strengthen relationships, encourage communication, and bring different viewpoints closer together." Arkail gave Glatheon one final thoughtful glance before returning his attention to Robin. "You have secured an extraordinary prize by earning this young man’s loyalty. He is a genuine genius in analysis, deduction, and strategic planning. Even I once hoped to recruit him as one of my advisors. Some time ago I heard that he had joined you as one of your Wings, but I assumed he had merely done so to spare himself unnecessary mental effort, as is usually his habit. I never expected that you would truly gain him as a serious companion who would willingly remain at your side."

"Hehe, don’t be so serious, Your Majesty." Glatheon laughed awkwardly while scratching the back of his head. "Who am I to become Lord Robin’s companion or minister? You’re giving me far too much credit."

Despite the smile, a trace of nervousness appeared on his face before he quietly walked toward one corner of the area, gathering scattered pieces of old firewood that had been lying around for who knew how long.

He then pointed toward Saher.

"I’m borrowing you for a moment. Build us a proper setup here with the sand. Make it a good one. We can’t exactly entertain honored guests beside a pile of old wood."

"....?!" Saher pointed at himself in surprise before instinctively looking toward his father for confirmation. Arkail remained silent for a brief moment before finally giving a reluctant nod.

Without another word, Saher rolled up his sleeves and hurried over to help Glatheon, deciding that asking questions could wait until later.

Left behind where they had been were only the calm Arkail, the smiling Robin, and the quietly suffering Richard, whose exhausted figure remained leaned back against the stone seat while recovering what little strength he could.

"So..." Arkail was the first to speak again, naturally fulfilling his role as the host despite everything that had happened. "The Laws of Creation... and Spacetime?"

"Your son was killed before my eyes."

Robin spoke directly, without the slightest hesitation, his expression remaining completely devoid of visible emotion,

"My deepest condolences. He was a fine young man."