Lord of the Truth - Chapter 2081 Pressure

Chapter 2081 Pressure

Three days later, inside Robin’s glass house.

Scratch scratch

Holding his epic pen in his left hand, Robin was engraving a new Truth Runes onto a massive board above his desk. The inscription was already nearly 70% complete, yet it looked like the beginning of something endless. Every simple stroke of Robin’s pen seemed like a single drop of water falling into an ocean, swallowed instantly by the overwhelming complexity and density of the design. Layers of meaning, structure, and law were interwoven so deeply that the rune itself felt less like a drawing and more like a living construct of reality.

Yet in truth… he was not even looking at it.

Robin’s gaze was fixed on his right hand, which at that moment was holding another epic pen, using it to write rapidly across a wooden board similar to the ones he had once used to open the passageway. Symbols, formulas, and structural commands formed in precise sequences, his hand moving with mechanical accuracy, as if guided by instinct rather than thought.

As for Seraphim, it was floating near Robin, moving on its own across a gigantic wall-sized panel. At times, it engraved inscriptions with perfect geometric precision; at other times, it calculated complex equations along the side, shifting between creation and computation as if it possessed its own independent will and logic.

Robin’s legs beneath the desk were bare up to the knees. Beneath them lay dozens of energy pearls, all connected together by a small array drawn on the floor. Streams of refined energy flowed upward into the soles of his feet, warm, fast, stable, and continuous, like a controlled current feeding directly into his

core.

Even his energy convergence center was unstable. Robin was using a single source to power all three of his writings simultaneously, while at the same time rebuilding the consumed foundations instantly, never allowing them to drop below five solid foundations. Destruction and reconstruction were happening in the same breath, collapse and restoration woven into one continuous process.

Behind Robin, two soul portals were open, releasing violent vortices that struck a massive mound of green and yellow soul emeralds. Energy fragments scattered, were absorbed, recycled, and drawn back into the system, forming a self-sustaining cycle of consumption and refinement.

At this moment, Robin was using almost all of his consciousness in a purely practical, applied state. He no longer allowed space for meditation, abstract contemplation, theoretical invention, or long-term speculative planning. There was no room left for slow thinking or distant visions. Time had become too valuable for that.

After receiving the powerful Omen of Truth that came from Sevar, he knew that something immense was approaching. Something vast. Something inevitable. Something that could not be avoided, only prepared for.

But at a deeper level, he understood he could not prepare for it through personal power alone. If he attempted a breakthrough now through physical force or raw energy, the problems would only multiply, not diminish. His newly acquired strength, no matter how great, would not be enough to face the enemies that were beginning to turn their eyes toward him.

After that thunderous announcement, and with everyone now speaking of Lord Human, Robin Burton, as the legitimate defender and lawful guardian of the universe, he had to anchor himself firmly and prepare for the first wave of reactions, consequences, and retaliation.

He had prepared for the day of the announcement long ago, when he ordered Morgana to use every legitimate and illegitimate means of publication to spread the legends and feats of the Cosmic Elder among the masses and revive his forgotten glory. Over dozens of years of continuous influence, even an unborn child had heard of the Cosmic Elder, had grown up with his name echoing through society, and had developed a subconscious sense of debt and reverence toward him.

That was why the announcement had been accepted with such ease, smoothness, and almost no resistance.

But Robin had not calculated what would happen after that.

He had believed this step would occur after thousands of years of Nihari’s promotion, after long preparation, after gradual stabilization of power

structures… not this fast. Not this violently. Not this suddenly.

Now, he had almost certainly earned the hostility of Qarun.

And worse than that…

Sevar had begun to see him as a threat.

So the question remained:

Why was he still alive three days after the announcement?

The answer was simple.

It was the Cosmic Elder.

Even if Sevar could somehow locate him through the thread, and even if Qarun could exploit his vast influence and resources to obtain his exact coordinates… neither of them would ever dare to kill him with their own hands, and not in a way that could be traced back to them.

That would be nothing less than a direct insult to the Cosmic Elder, the very same being who had publicly called him his close friend just yesterday, in front of witnesses and powers that spanned entire domains.

Do the two of them fear him? Perhaps yes, maybe not. But never the less, no one can ignore the Cosmic Elder within the domain of the universe itself. That much is absolutely certain, unquestionable, and universally understood. Even if one of them were delusional enough to believe they could somehow kill the Cosmic Elder, the price would be catastrophic, unbearable beyond imagination, a cost so severe that it would destroy everything they had built. A price they would never be willing to pay, no matter how deep their hatred or ambition ran.

So the reaction would come without doubt… just not now, not openly, and not directly. It would come from the shadows, through proxies, schemes, and

indirect hands.

All he had to do now was focus on translating his knowledge into power as quickly as possible, converting every fragment of understanding into tangible strength, and he also had to-

Knock knock

“Hm?”

Robin raised his head with furrowed brows, his focus breaking for the first time

in a while as he turned to see the newcomer. But his tense expression instantly softened and turned into a warm smile when he saw the figure standing behind

the glass.

“Welcome, Your Majesty.”

“May I come in?”

From behind the glass door, Althera spoke with a blank, composed face, her

eyes fixed on Robin as if she were seeing him for the first time, studying him

not as a man, but as a phenomenon.

“Of course, please.”

Robin released several soul units toward the main door, and it opened smoothly and silently, responding to his will as if it were alive.

Althera entered quietly, her steps light and controlled, still staring at Robin in

open astonishment, as though what she was witnessing defied all logic she

knew.

Robin’s hands did not stop drawing for even a moment, not for a single

heartbeat, even though he was not looking at the boards at all. Yet the lines were perfectly formed, the strokes precise beyond craftsmanship, and the paper panels and even the wooden ones were still glowing faintly, signaling that everything was still aligned, stable, and following the correct path without

deviation.

Aside from the three boards, he was also controlling two separate soul gates,

absorbing raw energy through his legs, circulating it through his body, and rebuilding his foundations at the same time, layer by layer, structure by

structure…

Could a human even do something like this? Could a single being truly sustain this many processes simultaneously without collapse? “…Even if you possess more than one consciousness, you should not place yourself under this kind of pressure, or it will inevitably lead to physical and

mental burnout.”

The teacher’s spirit within Althera could not remain silent, its voice heavy with

concern and warning.

“Heh~”

Robin showed a warm, calm smile and spoke softly, without arrogance or

hesitation.

“There are things that must happen. Things that only I can do. It’s pressure,

without doubt but you won’t find me complaining. I’m doing something I love.

Something I chose.”

Then he tilted his head slightly behind Althera, his gaze shifting with casual

curiosity.

“And who’s the brother?”

There stood a man masked with a white cloth, his posture disciplined, his

presence restrained, looking at him with open curiosity and quiet vigilance.

“He’s my deputy, Aser.”

Althera stepped aside and gestured behind her

her tone neutral.

“He had to come today. This meeting concerns him as well.”

Aser stared at Robin’s face for a few seconds in silence, as if measuring him,

then stepped forward two paces and nodded deeply with formal respect.

“Pleased to meet you, Lord Human.”

“Hmmm,”

Robin smiled faintly as his eyes glowed with a soft, subtle golden light, the glow

carrying quiet authority.

“A Guardian of a Law from the Path of Time. That bloodline, and those clothes

too… the lineage is obvious. Do you know Lord Saher?”

Aser smiled calmly, pride and respect mixed in his expression.

“He is my older brother.”

“Oh?”

Robin raised his brows slightly, then turned his gaze toward Althera in clear

surprise, waiting for an explanation, curiosity now openly visible on his face.

“What?”

Althera frowned slightly, clearly confused by his reaction.

“Didn’t you know? A large number of academy leaders and deputies are, in fact,

the children of Behemoths.”

“How would I know something like that?”

Robin raised one eyebrow sharply, half amused, half incredulous.

“A large number, you say? Ten percent, for example?”

“Hm?”

Althera looked at him in disbelief, her expression shifting into genuine

astonishment.

“How do you intend to rule the Cosmic Academies when you don’t know

information like this?”

Then she raised both hands slightly and added with absolute certainty,

“Make it ninety percent.”