Lord of the Truth

"...Who, exactly, will be placing the crown upon His Excellency's head?"

"..."

The question was simple, yet it landed on the balcony like an explosive. Silence fell over everyone—especially Caesar! Conversations halted, and even those who had been standing casually straightened their postures, suddenly more aware of the weight of the moment.

"...What?" Emily glanced around, bewildered by the lack of response. "You haven't decided yet? Or do you expect His Excellency to place the crown on his own head? Seriously?! Can you people not plan anything without me?!"

"It's not that big of a deal, is it?" Caesar sighed, pressing his fingers against his forehead. His temples throbbed slightly—not because the question itself was particularly difficult, but because he knew it would turn into an unnecessary debate. "Who usually performs the coronation in cases like this?"

"Traditionally, the one who places the crown on a new king or emperor's head is the previous ruler—his father," Emily explained, her tone growing more formal as she slipped into lecture mode. "The second option is the leader of the dominant religious sect of the kingdom, a high priest or equivalent figure, who blesses the ceremony and anoints the ruler."

She folded her arms. "But neither of those options apply here. His Excellency has no predecessor to crown him, and Jura has no unified religious authority. The planet's religious groups are fragmented, most of them small sects that venerate their ancestors. Their influence is too scattered to make any of them a legitimate choice."

She paused for a moment as if recalling something, then added, "Now that I think about it... there is a religious sect that has been gaining traction recently. It originated from Lady Zara's explanations to the scholars of The Research and Development City regarding His Excellency's philosophy on the nature of divinity and the creation of the universe. According to reports, this sect has amassed nearly ten thousand followers as of last week, and their numbers continue to grow exponentially."

"...What?" Caesar's expression twisted in disbelief. "Are you telling me that a brand new religion has formed just because Zara couldn't keep her mouth shut?! I'm not going out to find the leader of a ten-thousand-strong cult to crown my father!!" Caesar turned to Emily, utterly baffled by the suggestion. Then he turned to Zara, narrowing his eyes. "Seriously?"

"The scholars love hearing anything about Father! How was I supposed to know it would spread like this?" Zara defended herself vehemently, crossing her arms. However, the intensity of her older brother's gaze was too much, and she quickly ducked behind Peon, using him as a human shield.

"Ugh..." Caesar groaned, rubbing his temples again. He turned toward Richard, already knowing he would regret this. "Alright then, you do it."

"Me?" Richard blinked, then quickly shook his head. "Absolutely not. I'm the youngest brother. How would it look if I crowned our father while you stood there watching? Second—" he exhaled sharply, already prepared for an argument, "I still reject the title of Crown Prince that people keep throwing at me. It's an undeserved position when you, Brother Theo, Brother Peon, and Sister Zara all stand before me in priority. If there's any kind of line of succession, I should be the last in it."

"Cut the nonsense." Caesar took a step forward and smacked Richard on the back of the head, earning a small grunt from him. "You're his only biological son. Of course, everyone sees you as the Crown Prince. It's settled. You're the one performing the coronation."

"Sorry, phrase it however you like, but I stand by my decision." Richard shook his head stubbornly. "Crowning Father while the four of you are present would be overstepping my place, and I could never forgive myself for that. Even Father wouldn't be comfortable with it." He stepped back slightly, distancing himself from the discussion.

"...What about you, Your Highness?" Emily locked eyes with Caesar. "I don't think anyone would object if you did it."

The group collectively nodded—even the non-humans in attendance gave their approval. The silent acknowledgment sent a ripple of tension through the air.

Caesar wasn't just one of the strongest figures in the empire, nor merely one of its oldest commanders. He was His Excellency's first kid. More than that, he had been His Excellency's earliest companion—back when they lived in the cave, when Caesar hunted to feed him while he was immersed in his research, the very research that changed everything they knew. He had witnessed the rise of their empire from its very foundation. If anyone had the right to crown His Excellency, it was him.

"Me? No, no, that's not appropriate!" Caesar waved his hands dismissively, trying to shake off the expectation. "I'm just a general—a warhound that follows his orders. How could I overstep my bounds and place the crown upon his head in front of billions of spectators in an event that will be broadcast and remembered forever? Maybe I could help him put on his shoes or something—that would be more fitting."

"Your Highness, you're not helping..." Emily sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. "Based on what you just said, it sounds like you're rejecting the idea of any general performing the coronation. What then? Do you want me to crown His Excellency?" She nodded firmly. "I have no objections."

"....." Caesar raised a single eyebrow and pointed behind her. "Go prepare me a drink or something."

"Understood." Emily, ever the literalist, took his words at face value and actually left to do just that.

As she walked away, a heavy silence lingered.

"May I give my opinion, Your Highness?" Aro stepped forward, placing a hand over his chest before pointing at himself. His golden eyes glowed faintly under the lantern light, as if reflecting something beyond the physical world.

"....."

Caesar was not particularly fond of Aero from a military standpoint, but he acknowledged without a doubt that Aro was the most skilled politician in the empire. With a slow wave of his hand, he signaled for him to speak. "Go ahead. Do you have a solution? Just don't tell me you're nominating yourself."

"Haha, of course not, Your Highness," Aro chuckled, shaking his head with a knowing smile. "I am fully aware that even the rank of Supreme General, or surpassing my position in any way, is beyond my place when compared to you or Supreme General Sakaar. With your strength, lineage, and accomplishments alone, both of you are the only ones worthy of such an esteemed role in His Excellency's court." He then placed a hand on his chest in a gesture of humility. "I am merely His Excellency's tool for managing the various races under his rule—I do not see myself as anything more than that."

"..." Both Sakaar and Caesar felt a subtle sense of relief settle in their chests. Aro had always been an enigmatic figure, one whose loyalties were sometimes questioned. But at the very least, it seemed he knew his place.

"That being said, I do have a suggestion," Aero continued smoothly, stepping forward slightly. "Since His Excellency has no predecessor—neither by bloodline nor by position—why not create a predecessor for him, drawn from his own lands?"

Caesar narrowed his eyes slightly, intrigued but skeptical. "Go on."

"The Tree Fathers," Aro stated plainly, his voice firm and deliberate. "They are the oldest sentient beings within His Excellency's domain. Their lifespans are estimated to be in the millions of years, and they possess the ability to create smaller projections of themselves, ones that appear ancient and wise. There are three of them still alive, correct? We should request each of them to send an ancient-looking avatar, and have them jointly place the crown on His Excellency's head."

"...The visual spectacle alone would be incredible," Caesar murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. His mind played through the scene—a trio of towering, ancient beings, their bark-like skin crackling with age-old wisdom, bestowing the crown upon his father. "We could even have them declare that he is the greatest ruler they have seen in millions of years, or something like that..." His eyes flickered as he considered the implications. "...But aren't they just subjects at the end of the day? Wouldn't that make the coronation feel less legitimate?"

"I—I! I will crown Father!" Zara suddenly stepped forward from behind Peon, her violet eyes flashing with determination. "I'm not a man, so I don't care about any Crown Prince ranking! I'm not a general either! And most importantly—Father loves me the most out of all of you! I should be the one to do it!"

"....." Caesar stared at his younger sister for a long moment, picturing the planetary emperor, Robin Burton, being crowned by a girl half his size. Slowly, his gaze shifted back to Aro, "...The three Tree Fathers idea doesn't sound so bad anymore," he muttered. "I'll go to one, you take the second, and I'll send Theo to the third. We meet back here in an hour."

"Ugh!" Zara stomped her foot against the ground in frustration. "You're always like this! Always—"

OOOOOOOOMMMMMNNNNNNN——

In the span of a single instant, everything was consumed by an overwhelming white light. A suffocating pressure descended upon them, pressing down with the weight of something far beyond mortal comprehension.

Everyone who had been speaking swallowed their words.

Everyone who had been breathing held the air in their lungs, too afraid to release it.

A collective realization struck them all at once—

Something had happened.

Something that could not possibly be good.

A moment later, the intensity of the light dimmed slightly, just enough for the onlookers to force their eyes open and turn toward the source.

There—hovering high above the arena—was what seemed to be a sun of unnatural shape.

At first glance, it was nothing but a blinding sphere of white radiance, pulsing with energy that defied all logic. But upon closer inspection…

That sun had legs.

It had feet.

It had a head.

A towering being of pure, luminous energy floated above the grandstands, radiating such oppressive power that even the strongest warriors in the empire struggled to remain standing. The air itself felt heavy, crackling with an unfamiliar force.

The entity, its form shifting like a celestial storm contained within a humanoid frame, scanned its surroundings. The air trembled as it turned its gaze downward.

Its piercing, radiant eyes locked onto a single figure below—

The massive white fox seated gracefully on the right side of the stands.

A voice, deep and unyielding, rang out like a decree from the heavens.

"Frostfox, What is this place?" It frowned deeply, "...Are you trying to escape me?"