Lord of the Truth - Chapter 1278

Chapter 1278: Sudden change
Four Days Later — Planet Azakra

There was something hauntingly timeless about this place.

A realm seemingly cut away from the erosion of days, the ticking of seconds, and the endless decay that plagued even the grandest of empires.

A massive garden stretched endlessly, its boundaries swallowed by the distant, shimmering horizon.

It was a paradise of symmetry and grandeur—immaculate statues forged from rare marbles and metals gleamed under twin suns, each shaped with such mastery they seemed ready to breathe.

Ancient trees, with trunks as wide as towers, loomed above like cosmic sentinels, their leaves whispering songs of empires long dead.

But for all its grandeur, the garden was… silent.

Too silent.

There were no children laughing between the hedges, no lovers resting beneath the boughs, no old storytellers spinning sagas into the wind.

No birds perched on branches, no insects skittered through the grass, not even the hum of distant machines.

It was as if the garden had been abandoned by life, frozen in a moment of perfect beauty, forever untouched.

Almost.

Because in the very heart of this still, dreamlike land, two colossal structures shattered the illusion of lifelessness.

The first was a palace.

But calling it just a palace was an insult to its majesty.

It was a skyscraping monolith, built of white crystal and star-metal, so tall that one might snap their neck simply trying to trace its spires.

Each level glowed faintly with arcane light, and strange runes danced across its surface like ripples on water.

The second structure lay before it—a raised circular platform, carved from hard materials and etched with runes.

At its center stood a towering metallic arch, pulsing gently with latent power.

A space portal.

Surrounding it were dozens of elite guards clad in reflective armor, their helmets concealing all emotion, they stood still like the statues around them.

Suddenly—

BZZZZZZZZZZZT.

A hum, followed by a distortion in the air.

The portal sprang to life, radiating beams of raw energy. Its circular core spun, stabilized, and locked into an active transit field.

The moment it did, every guard reacted in perfect synchrony.

Weapons vanished behind their backs.

Feet came together with a heavy stomp.

Backs straightened.

They stood like statues—honor-bound, motionless, unblinking.

This portal was sacred.

It was only ever used by the most important figures within the Empire of the Nine Paths.

Whoever emerged from the portal was not to be questioned.

They were to be received.

But these guards had been stationed here long enough to grow suspicious.

No matter how prestigious the portal, no matter how protected the destination…

Something could go wrong.

And so, as the portal’s energy swirled, their eyes did not lower in reverence.

No—they stared with the sharp alertness of apex predators.

Because one day…

An enemy might slip through.

Today, however, was not that day.

From the shimmering portal stepped a figure both feared and respected.

“We salute Lord Darmek.”

Every soldier lowered into a deep, calculated bow.

“Come, human! “And from behind Lord Darmek followed another. A man—a human.

He wore a suit of black-and-gold armor, but it was marred and scratched.

His hands were shackled with glowing restraints, and a heavy chain was wrapped around his throat like a leash.

Darmek held the chain casually, his grip firm, his stance dominant.

He then turned to the guards.

“Is Her Majesty in the throne hall today?”

The lead guard responded promptly.

“Yes, Lord Darmek. She received a visitor earlier. She remains in the hall.”

He then gestured toward the prisoner, his tone deferential.

“Shall we escort the human to the holding cells, my lord?”

Darmek’s eyes narrowed.

“No need. This one’s judgment will be delivered by Her Majesty herself. He is a war criminal. And shall be given the judgment of such. I will make sure he will!”

He pulled the prisoner sharply and began descending the staircase toward the palace.

The captive grimaced.

His pride, more than his body, had been wounded.

His voice, hoarse yet furious, spilled out:

“This will not end well for you…! When General Raiden learns of this insult, you’ll all—”

WHACK.

Darmek delivered a brutal strike to the back of his head, the sound echoing like thunder across the stone steps.

The man staggered, eyes spinning from the force.

“Speak again,” Darmek said coldly, “and I’ll remove your tongue before the trial.”

BZZZZZZZT.

Again, the portal activated.

Everyone stopped.

Even Darmek turned, gaze sharpening, wanting to see the new comer for himself.

Step.

Out of the rippling energy walked a man.

Human.

Wearing nothing but a plain white robe.

No armor. No jewelry. No visible signs of augmentation or power.

The cloth looked thin, cheap even, entirely unfit for the grandeur of the empire.

Yet he walked with a calm, measured pace.

Hands clasped behind his back.

Head raised.

Eyes curious and serene.

A faint smile graced his lips, as if he had just returned from a peaceful stroll through a forest.

Inhale…

The human drew in a deep, focused breath, closing his eyes briefly as he absorbed the sensations of the world around him.

“…Yes, the energy density here is unmistakably lower than what I’m used to on Nihari. Interesting… One can actually feel the imposed restrictions on Law perception—there’s a sharp cutoff. I can’t sense anything beyond the Fourth Stage of the Heavenly Laws. And… there’s something else… a strange, almost gravitational weight tugging at my core, distorting the flow at the center of my energy vortex. Fascinating…”

A voice interrupted his musings.

“May I ask who you are, human?”

The captain of the guards stepped forward, his posture rigid, military, one arm folded neatly behind his back in ceremonial formality.

His tone, though polite on the surface, was edged with clear disdain. It oozed with skepticism.

After all, what he saw before him hardly matched the profile of someone worthy of passing through the royal portal.

This was no noble.

No emissary clad in enchanted armor.

No being of divine rank or celestial resonance.

The man before him wore a simple white robe, loose and unassuming, made of coarse material with no enhancements of any kind. No sacred sigils, no cosmic energy field, no protective runes. And his aura? Barely Level 44. By all appearances, he was little more than a wandering monk or a backwater villager who had somehow stumbled onto imperial soil.

And above all else—he was human.

Still, duty demanded a thin veil of courtesy.

The portal from which this stranger emerged was reserved for those of exceptional importance—nobility, envoys, imperial messengers. No ordinary traveler could gain access to it. If this man had come through, then someone, somewhere, had granted him permission.

“Oh! My sincerest apologies,” the man said cheerfully, his voice warm and oddly disarming. “Where are my manners?”

He offered a light clap of the hands and bowed his head slightly.

“I’ve come from the Young Belt. I bring with me an item—a rather special one, in fact—for Lady Renara. Please, if it’s not too much trouble, inform her that I’ve arrived.”

He then turned his gaze back to the scenery, eyes gleaming with an almost childlike curiosity.

Of course, this was no other than Robin.

He studied the surrounding trees, the air, the earth itself, as though each carried secrets whispered only to those who truly listened. Even if he couldn’t yet directly feel the fully matured Laws that governed this world, he could still deduce them—from the lifeforms, from the architecture, from the subtle energies that danced around every object.

“Lady Renara?”

The guard captain frowned deeply, brows knitting together in clear irritation.

“Her Majesty does not entertain just anyone. Follow me. You’ll be taken to the Department of Young Belt Affairs. They’ll determine how to process your presence here.”

“No problem at all,” the human replied with a casual shrug, completely unfazed.

Bureaucracy didn’t bother him, he wanted time to get use to this new environment anyway.

“Good. Glad we understand each other.”

The captain gestured to one of his subordinates, who stepped forward to escort the man. Then the captain turned back with one final warning.

“Keep your hands to yourself. Do not touch anything. Every stone, every blade of grass in this garden is worth more than your life.”

“Yes, yes… whatever you say…”

The man murmured absentmindedly, his attention drifting again toward a towering tree not far from the path.

He wasn’t listening.

His senses were already busy analyzing the deeply rooted, ancient Laws etched into the bark of the tree.

“Move along, peasant,” the escorting guard snapped, gesturing sharply toward the palace stairs.

“Hmmm… astonishing…”

Robin—still lost in thought—followed instinctively.

Every step he took was deliberate, every breath a recording of this place’s mystical essence.

Then—

A voice, sharp and bitter, sliced through the air:

“You there! We don’t have humans as followers in the Young Belt unless they serve under the so-called Empire of True Beginning. What are you doing here? Did that coward Raiden send you to scout for weakness? Or did your pathetic Emperor send you crawling here with an apology? Either way… you’re too late.”

“Shut up!”

The shackled prisoner snarled back, his voice hoarse but filled with wrath.

“Even General Raiden might show mercy when insulted—but none will not allow you to defile His Majesty’s name!”

THWACK!

Without warning, Darmek lashed out, striking the prisoner on the back of the head with crushing force.

Blood burst from the man’s ears, eyes, and mouth. He staggered but did not fall, still held upright by the chains around his neck.

“You think I give a damn about your general, or your Emperor?”

Darmek’s voice was cold and devoid of emotion, like metal scraping stone.

Robin—still observing the world around him—froze.

A single word echoed in his mind: “Raiden?”

His focus snapped like a tightened wire.

He looked ahead.

And there—standing tall and terrifying—was a being with eight massive tails flowing behind him like smoke.

He was dragging a man in black-and-gold imperial armor, like an animal on a leash.

The cheerful light vanished from the Robin’s eyes.

His face darkened.

His brows sank so low they seemed to shadow his entire face.

His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of thunder:

“…What the hell is going on here?”