Lord of the Truth - Chapter 2167 Nihari
Young Sector 99 — Nihari — Central Governing Region
Since the coronation ceremony that took place centuries ago, every official within the True Beginning Empire had already accepted a single, undeniable truth: Nihari would one day become their permanent home.
Not as a possibility.
But as an inevitability.
Its vast, almost boundless expanse, its overwhelming reserves of energy, the fact that it was the very seed of the galaxy itself, and the countless developments that followed all combined to solidify its position as the true capital of the new world.
Thus, even though governance continued for a time on Jura, the shift had already begun.
Slowly.
Silently.
Every few years, one or two key headquarters would be transferred to Nihari. What began as a gradual transition eventually became a full migration of authority, until the balance of power tilted completely.
The northern region was the first to undergo total transformation.
It was reshaped into a military-industrial core, specializing in both heavy and light weapon production. A region spanning the equivalent of ten medium-sized planets was entirely devoted to the creation of instruments of war.
Not just factories.
But a unified system.
Each facility designed to complement the others, forming a seamless chain of production that wasted no time, no effort, no potential.
Warships?
The metals required to forge their frames were refined there.
The specialized coatings and energy-resistant paints?
Produced on-site.
Cannon molds, embedded arrays, structural components?
All integrated within the same network.
Even the internal equipment used by the crew, their talismans, their personal weapons, their survival systems—
Everything was manufactured within that single region.
The northern zone no longer required anything except raw materials to sustain its output.
The so-called “strange region,” named for its countless rivers of energy essence and natural springs, was assigned a completely different purpose.
It became the center for replenishing depleted Pearls.
Within its boundaries, massive medical facilities were constructed to treat wounded soldiers, while vast burial grounds were established for those who had fallen in battle.
Most of those graves, however…
Were empty.
Symbolic.
A silent acknowledgment of the countless bodies lost beyond recovery.
Parts of the western region were designated for experimentation.
Weapons testing.
Communication systems.
Unstable technologies.
Anything that required isolation from civilian areas found its place there.
At the same time, large sections of that region were transformed into museums, filled with relics gathered from conquered or discovered worlds.
These were not ordinary exhibitions.
They were monuments.
Displays that immortalized moments of destruction and creation alike.
Statues of His Majesty and his allies stood tall, depicting them as they crushed threats and reshaped reality itself into the new world.
In addition, temporary refuge zones were constructed for entire populations fleeing planetary invasions.
These were not small shelters.
They were massive residential sectors, capable of housing billions at any given moment.
And recently…
They had been used more often than anyone would have preferred.
In truth, the strange region, spanning eight planetary-scale zones, had become a place without permanent residents.
Only those passing through remained.
Visitors.
Refugees.
The wounded.
Experimental subjects.
All of them entered under the supervision of the Light Swords…
And left once their purpose had been fulfilled.
The southern and eastern regions, in contrast, became the heart of civilian life.
The primary residential zones.
All previous cities had been wiped out during the war against the Great Serpent Empire.
Billions perished.
Tens of millions were displaced.
The True Beginning Empire had no choice but to rebuild from nothing.
And they did not rebuild modestly.
The imperial vaults were opened without restriction.
Resources flowed endlessly.
And even now, new cities continued to rise every single day.
Massive.
Advanced.
Constructed with entirely new philosophies.
Designed for future generations.
Protected with layers of defense that rivaled, and in some cases surpassed, the ancient cities of the Behemoths themselves.
And this…
Was only the residential aspect.
The southern and eastern regions also became home to monumental landmarks.
Symbols of history.
Symbols of power.
For example, in the southern region stood a colossal statue of Marshal Sakaar, immortalized in the moment he stood alone against multiple enemy fleets, wielding the Chrysanthemums of the Underworld.
A reminder of defiance.
Of sacrifice.
Of absolute will.
And in the eastern region lay the site known as the Lava Sea, within the Desert of Death.
A place etched into history.
Where His Majesty, while still within the Saint realm, faced an opponent in the Nexus State…
And won.
Protecting not only the planet, but the future of the empire itself.
At that very location, suspended high in the air, was a sight no one could ignore—
A heart.
Still intact.
Still visible.
The heart of Pythor.
The tyrant who had sought to extinguish the empire’s flame before it could even be born.
Now displayed for all to see.
A warning.
A message to every enemy who would dare rise against His Majesty.
As for the central region…
It became the counterpart of its equivalent on Jura.
A military-administrative core.
The true center of command.
Here, armies gathered before deployment.
Here, fleets aligned in perfect formation before moving across the sectors.
Here, every branch of governance converged.
At its heart stood the imperial palace.
Surrounded by grand halls where decisions were made…
Decisions that shaped the fate of the entire empire.
—Inside one of the grand halls—
Bang
The heavy doors of the hall were kicked open with force, the sound echoing sharply across the chamber.
Kristan stepped in without hesitation, his right leg still slightly raised from the kick, his expression filled with irritation as he barked, “What the hell is it this time?!”
His voice carried across the entire hall, cutting through the quiet like a blade.
Inside, seated with composed posture at one of the central positions along the long table, Emily slowly lifted her gaze toward him, her brows already drawn together in clear displeasure.
“I’ve never heard of a Prime Minister who spends most of his time on a private planet surrounded by a handful of beasts…” Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And then acts offended when he’s called in to actually do his job.”
She paused for a brief second, letting her words settle, before her tone hardened further.
“Do you want me to submit a request to His Majesty… to have you replaced?”
“Do you think I chose this position?!” Kristan snapped immediately, his patience already gone as he pointed directly at her, his voice rising with frustration. “Take the damned position yourselves!”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned sharply, clearly intending to walk out just as abruptly as he had entered.
But he didn’t get far.
“If you give up the position,” Emily’s voice came from behind him, calm, steady, and completely unhurried, “you’ll lose authority over that planet.”
Kristan’s step slowed.
“And you’ll return all the beast-taming equipment currently in your possession…”
He stopped.
“…including the fourth-grade equipment you acquired recently.”
Silence.
Kristan did not move for a moment.
He hadn’t received a salary despite holding one of the highest-ranking positions in the empire. Instead, he had made a personal request: to accumulate his yearly compensation and convert it entirely into resources for beast taming.
And thanks to the empire’s exceptional internal stability and precise administrative system, the headquarters had approved a special reward for him after opening the budget—
A fourth-grade beast-taming planetary artifact.
Since the day he obtained it, Kristan had practically disappeared.
He rarely left his assigned world, and when he did, it was only to move between Grave worlds across the Mid Sector, visiting the Beast Kings under his control.
Reports even suggested that he had begun organizing an entire personal domain—an ecosystem tailored for himself and those Beast Kings.
A kingdom of beasts.
“…..”
Kristan stood frozen for a few seconds.
Then slowly turned his head.
And without another word of protest, he walked back and dropped into one of the chairs, his posture relaxed but his expression still annoyed.
“So… what do we have today?” he asked, his tone noticeably more subdued.
“We’ll wait until everyone arrives,” Emily replied calmly, as if the earlier exchange had never happened.
“Everyone?” Kristan repeated, raising a brow as he finally took a proper look around.
Only then did it fully register.
This hall… Was packed.
It was not just a meeting between him and Emily.
Not even close.
There were at least fifty individuals seated around the massive table, all of them silent during the earlier exchange, none daring to interrupt.
Not because they were insignificant.
But because none of them held a rank high enough to speak over the two.
And yet… every single one of them carried immense weight.
The official responsible for equipping the soldiers sat to the left.
Across from him was the director of fleet production.
Nearby sat the officer in charge of large-scale army coordination.
Further down the table was the liaison to the Royal Soul Lords of the Burton family.
The head of interplanetary military communications.
The coordinator assigned to work directly with the Shadow Swords.
And many others.
High-ranking officers.
Senior ministers.
Individuals whose decisions shaped the structure of entire sectors.
Every single one of them was perpetually busy, their schedules packed to the point that even gathering three of them in the same place was considered rare.
And yet today…
They were all here.
Together. Silent. Waiting.
Kristan’s expression shifted slightly, confusion creeping in.
“Who else are we waiting for?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, one brow still raised. “What is this supposed to be? A reunion? You planning to reintroduce everyone to each other?”
His tone grew more sarcastic.
“Or what… are you declaring war on the entire Young Belt?”
“…The latter,” Emily replied with a quiet sigh.
The room remained still.
Then, as if sensing something, Emily’s eyes shifted toward the entrance.
Her expression softened just slightly.
“Oh…”
She straightened a little.
“Her Highness has arrived.”
