Lord of the Truth

"Father."

"My Lord."

"Your Majesty."

Within only a few short minutes after Robin had made his request, individuals began to appear around him, one after another. These were not ordinary people — they were the high-ranking officials, the military commanders, and the key administrative figures of the empire. They were every person present had stood on the ceremonial platform just before his coronation.

"Any updates, Father? What exactly happened with the soul shard?" Richard descended gracefully from the sky and approached without hesitation, his expression concerned and curious.

"Everything is under control~" Robin answered with a warm smile, his tone light but composed. He then allowed his gaze to wander across the gathering, taking in the faces of his most trusted followers. "...I see that everyone is smiling, well that is a good sign."

"The celebrations will last an entire week, Your Majesty," Raiden said cheerfully, clapping his hands in rhythm and breaking into a playful little dance. "If we don't keep up the energy, we'll ruin the mood for everyone!"

SMACK! Caesar slapped his general across the back of the head with practiced ease, clearly used to reigning in Raiden's antics. Then he turned to his father with a smile. "Fortunately, That girl, Kerry — the deputy leader of the Shadow Swords — managed to record everything that happened to you today, from the very first moment to the final scene. We're currently editing the footage, cutting together key events and splicing in relevant moments from other recordings to enhance the impact. By the end of the day, we'll have a cinematic piece ready for public release detailing the coronation and its surrounding drama. I'm also planning a public information campaign to educate people about the 'World Catastrophe' levels and the concept of 'Nexus' so they can grasp the immense danger you faced today. Honestly, this day has gone even better than I hoped — it's a massive win for my narrative strategy."

"That's wonderful to hear." Robin chuckled, patting his son on the shoulder proudly. Then he took a step forward and addressed the entire group. "As all of you can see with your own eyes... I have been stripped of nearly all my strength. I must enter a long, secluded cultivation retreat if I hope to restore my former peak — no, not just restore it, but surpass it. I have called you all here for one reason: to set things in order before I disappear for an unknown period of time, I don't want any disturbance after today!"

He took a breath, letting the seriousness settle in. "I've finalized an agreement with Lady Renara. Over the next thirty years, we will be receiving seven Stellar Scout Ships. These vessels are specialized for deep space exploration, capable of scanning and identifying planets at vast interstellar distances. Their purpose is simple: to make your next mission easier."

"And what exactly is the mission, Your Majesty?" Aro asked, narrowing his eyes slightly with concern and curiosity.

"Conquest." Robin's voice rang out with clarity and force, echoing like a declaration of destiny. He then fixed his gaze on Aro, Sakaar, and Caesar one by one. "Over the course of the next one thousand years, each of you is expected to conquer no fewer than fifty planets on my behalf. I've already equipped you with everything you need to succeed — and I'll continue to empower you. But mark my words: I will accept nothing less than this minimum requirement. Those of you who exceed expectations will be rewarded beyond your imagination."

In Robin's mind, even if none of the three reached the quota individually, their combined efforts should guarantee at least a hundred planets secured by the end of the millennium. Setting the bar any lower would be an invitation to complacency — and that was something he could not afford.

"..."

The three generals, however, did not interpret it so optimistically. Each one furrowed their brow in deep thought. After a brief pause, they nodded, silently acknowledging the command and its gravity.

Meanwhile, the other commanders and high-ranking officers under Caesar, Sakaar, and Aro looked at one another, the fire of ambition igniting in their eyes. Excitement and fear danced together in their chests, fueled by the weight of the Emperor's vision.

Only Servon and Haros, who stood somewhat apart from the rest at the back of the gathering, shared a more doubtful reaction. They exchanged glances, both frowning heavily.

This demand... this target... was the most absurd thing either of them had ever heard.

One hundred and fifty planets in a thousand years? Was this man completely mad?!

But then they remembered… the promise of seven Stellar Scout Ships.

Seven. Not one, not two—seven of those mythical vessels, so advanced that even their previous Overlord, did not have a single one to her name.

The sheer weight of this realization hit like thunder.

CRACK.

Haros clenched his fists with such force that his knuckles turned white and the air around his gauntlets shivered. His breath quickened, no longer calm or even. It was as though his lungs were struggling to contain the storm now building within him—a storm of ambition, disbelief, and fury. The magnitude of what had just been offered was nothing short of insane.

Robin, unfazed by the emotional swell he had caused, continued speaking in a calm, steady voice that demanded attention.

"Until those ships arrive—until the day those seven scouts pierce the dark of space—we will have approximately thirty years," he declared. "Thirty years of preparation. Thirty years of rest and sharpening the blade. This period will serve as a critical phase of recovery, reinforcement, and realignment for all three of you."

He let the words sink in before adding with authority, "Use that time wisely. Raise your armies, gather your commanders, align your banners. Prepare for large-scale conflicts and establish rapid invasion protocols. When those ships arrive, I expect nothing less than immediate expansion."

Then his gaze turned toward Emily—sharp and expectant.

"Emily, I want you to begin coordinating with Caesar and Richard. Together, the three of you will draw up a complete and effective plan for pacifying and integrating planetary populations. The goal is speed and stability. I will not tolerate endless years wasted on rebellions or trying to appease uncooperative locals. We need dominion, not diplomacy."

"Understood, Your Majesty," Emily responded firmly, nodding with conviction, though her eyes momentarily flicked toward the others, already calculating the complexity of the task.

"Why me?!" Richard spoke up, confused and somewhat defensive. "Why am I part of this?"

Choosing Caesar made perfect sense—he was, after all, the architect of the *Empire of Tomorrow* initiative. Emily, too, had full administrative control and access to the treasury. But Richard?

Robin simply smirked.

"I've heard plenty about Planet Jura and what's been going on there," he said with a chuckle. "You think I'm asleep with cotton stuffed in my ears?"

Then he stepped closer and tapped his son lightly on the back of the neck, grinning. "If you'd rather your little tricks remain secret, I won't stop you. I'll assign you several planets instead. Do with them as you will."

"…Fine," Richard exhaled, reluctantly accepting the truth that perhaps he hadn't been as discreet as he'd believed.

"There's something else," Robin added, shifting his tone into something heavier. He turned again to Emily. "For the next thirty years, I don't want you to hesitate even for a second when it comes to funding military production. I want fleets, cruisers, mobile bases, and orbital artillery ready when the time comes. We will recover our losses later. Right now, we must invest in our survival and dominance."

"…As you wish, Your Majesty," Emily replied slowly, her voice thick with the weight of what he was asking. Her fingers tightened into a subtle fist behind her back.

Robin sighed, his features betraying a flicker of weariness. This was the hidden cost of war—the draining of not just lives and blood, but of wealth, energy, and will. This is what turned proud empires into husks.

It's what made the infamous Empress of Blood and Destruction poor, even while ruling over dozens of planets. War was an expensive addiction. And one that didn't spare even the mighty.

He lifted his head again, voice regaining its imperial strength. "Now, on to the division of forces and allocation of hunting zones."

He pointed at Aro.

"The Third Army will be based primarily on two stronghold-planets: Nihari and Orphan Blood. These will serve as your central recruiting and training grounds. From those two planets, your Stellar Scout Ships will be launched. Your expansion shall remain confined to Planetary Sector 99. That will be your domain."

"The Third Army accepts this sacred charge, Your Majesty," Aro responded, offering a slight but formal bow. Behind him, his generals mimicked the gesture with solemn discipline.

"And as for you…" Robin turned to Sakaar, pausing to make sure the general's full attention was on him. "All demonkind will be relocated to three specific planets: S2, S3, and S4. These planets are scarcely inhabited—only a few hundred thousand humans left, most of whom were dumped there by the Great Serpent Empire during their colonization efforts. Their true homeland is the planet Poison Rock."

He folded his hands behind his back.

"All those humans will be safely relocated to Greenland, which shall serve as their permanent sanctuary from now on. In their place, your demon kin shall settle. These three planets will become your breeding grounds, your fortresses, and the launchpads for your scout ships. From there, you will expand into and eventually conquer all of Planetary Sector 100."

For a few heartbeats, Sakaar stood silent—staring.

And then, all at once, emotion overtook him.

"I have spent the past hours imagining countless futures, countless reactions Your Majesty might have to what occurred today," Sakaar said, voice low but trembling with reverence. "But not once did I expect… this."

He bent forward, his upper body forming a perfect 90-degree bow. Beside him, Amon did the same, and behind them all the demon generals dropped to their knees in full prostration. Their foreheads kissed the ground.

"Thank you, my Lord… for granting our kind a homeland. We, the demon race, shall serve your will with unwavering loyalty—until the end of time."

"Until the end of time!" the remaining demon generals echoed, their voices rising in unison like a vow cast in steel.