Lord of the Truth-Chapter 1194: Conversation with an Overlord-2

"Hehe, well... this doesn't exactly sound like a cheerful situation," Robin said, letting out a soft, amused chuckle.

"Robin Burton," Renara's tone grew sharp, her expression darkening with unmistakable irritation, "a little respect wouldn't hurt you. Respect lingers in people's minds… and so does disrespect, sometimes for far longer." It was clear that his laugh had hit a sensitive nerve.

Robin raised his hands defensively and chuckled again, this time a bit nervously. "Oh—my bad, seriously. I didn't mean to offend or mock you. I wasn't belittling your situation at all. It's just that… stories involving the Mid-Planetary Belt always amaze me. There's something so wild and chaotic about them, I can't help but be fascinated." He gave a few awkward waves, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Then don't let your imagination carry you too far," Renara replied, her voice cold but composed. "I didn't lose four planets, as you seem to believe. No—I lost twenty. Twenty entire planets fell from our grasp after my father was assassinated, simply because I couldn't consolidate my authority over the Nine Imperial Factions fast enough. Chaos spread quickly. But I returned, once my grip on the empire was firm, and I reclaimed eighteen of those planets through sheer force. Later, I lost another five planets to a completely different power altogether—one that emerged from outside our usual sphere of conflict. But I didn't stop there. I fought back, and from them, I seized seven planets. Recently, yes, we've lost four more in a series of difficult campaigns. And if the current tides of war continue, we are in serious danger of losing three more at any moment."

She paused, letting the weight of her words hang in the air before continuing with striking calmness, "Planetary exchange through war is not some strange or rare event. In fact, it's practically tradition in the Mid-Belt. A single planet might change hands dozens of times throughout its lifetime. Among all the planets currently under the Nine Paths Empire's banner, perhaps only five have remained with us since the founding. The rest? They've been traded, seized, reclaimed, and conquered countless times. So your laugh, Robin—it wasn't just a display of poor manners. It was ignorance, plain and simple."

Robin frowned, scratching the back of his head. "Even so… the fact remains. The number of planets under your rule is currently down by four. And if I understood you correctly, you're actively involved in warfare on at least two fronts—maybe even more than that."

Renara's brows knit together in faint annoyance. "And? What exactly is the issue here? It is the norm—completely expected, even—for empires to be engaged in multiple wars simultaneously. These are not neat, connected territories we're talking about. The ninety-one planets that make up my empire are scattered across incomprehensibly vast stretches of space. This isn't some neat artificial galaxy where every planet is within reach. Each planet floats far from the next. And any one of them that happens to be near the sphere of influence of an aggressive empire becomes a target. A conflict waiting to happen. So forget fighting three sides. If I told you I'm engaged in open or covert war with ninety-one different powers, would their be a reason to be surprised?"

"...What?!" Robin's eyes went wide, his thoughts momentarily frozen. That reality had completely slipped his mind.

"Planetary skirmishes and territorial exchanges, while dramatic, are not the wars that matter most," Renara continued, now speaking with a serene dignity. "What truly counts are the decisive wars—the wars that determine the fate of civilizations. And as for me… or rather, the Nine Paths Empire as a whole—we are locked in only one such war." She raised one finger with solemn precision, then gently folded her hands in front of her in a composed and noble gesture.

"...A war against those who murdered your father?" Robin asked quietly, even though the answer had already formed in his heart.

Renara gave a slow, heavy nod. "Yes. We are at war with a Centennial Empire, they are seeking to exterminate all males of our bloodline, and enslave the females for the sole purpose of forced breeding. Their ultimate goal is to seize what remains of our ancestral lineage—the blood of the mythic beast, the Nine-Tailed Fox. That's what they're after."

Her voice trembled slightly, not with fear, but with a righteous fury that burned beneath her composed exterior. "But they will never succeed. Not while I live. I swear it by my name, by my lineage, and by every star that burns in the skies."

Robin froze again, overwhelmed. His thoughts raced in panic, and in a moment of desperation, he reached out within his soul domain. (Neri! Didn't you say I'd be safe if I reached the rank of a Centennial Empire? This woman—this terrifying woman in front of me—she's already nearly at that rank… and yet there are still forces that dare to hunt her people… forces powerful enough to kill the emperor himself!!)

(And what exactly is the problem…?) Neri's tiny shoulders rose in a delicate shrug within Robin's soul domain, her tone casual, even a little amused. (That war she spoke of—it might have been raging for hundreds of thousands of years, maybe even millions, for all we know. And despite all that time, despite the chaos and bloodshed, she's only lost four planets. Only four. Her empire is still intact—still formidable, still awe-inspiring.)

She turned slightly, her voice growing just a touch more serious. (I never said that once you achieve the title of a Centennial Empire, everyone around you would suddenly turn into saints or angels, letting you live your life in peace and harmony. That was never the promise. What I told you was that you'd earn respect. A shield. A layer of protection. That's all. And right now, you're witnessing exactly what that sounds like.)

"…" Robin nodded several times, slowly, his mind beginning to string the pieces together. The world of the Mid-Planetary Belt—the so-called Mid-Belt—was starting to come into focus. Its contours were no longer vague ideas, but something real, sharp, and cold.

Here, in the Young belt, things were very different. The majority of the planets were still wild, unclaimed, drifting like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked by the bold or the lucky. Robin, along with many others from the Young Belt, could feasibly live their entire lives exploring, building, expanding—without ever needing to lift a sword in real war. There was still room. Still time. Still freedom.

But in the Mid-Belt?

There, the story was different. In that ancient, contested region, there were too many predators and too little prey. As the saying went: "There are many dogs… and not enough meat." Survival meant violence. Peace was a luxury few could afford. And power… power was the only law that held any meaning.

"I don't know why you're asking all these questions," Renara said, her tone growing slightly more clipped, more firm. "But you've received your answers. Every one of them. So tell me—what do you intend to do with them?" There was no fear in her voice, but there was irritation. Not because she was ashamed of the topic—planetary wars weren't something she ever shied away from—but because Robin's words had hinted, even unintentionally, at failure. At weakness. At the loss of part of her father's legacy. And that… stung.

Robin raised one hand to his chest and smiled, his voice calm and measured. "I'm merely trying to understand the person I'm speaking with, My Lady. That's all. I meant no offense, no insult. There was no hidden venom in my words."

He leaned back, then rested his hand gently on the armrest of the elegant seat he'd been given. "From where I stand, it seems clear that you are already heavily burdened. You're at war—at multiple wars, no doubt. Your mind is surely occupied with countless matters, strategies, threats, negotiations… and yet, despite all that, you're here, sitting across from someone like me." He leaned forward now, eyes sharp, voice low and steady. "So I'll ask plainly—what do you want from me?"

Renara tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. Then she spoke, voice graceful, almost gentle. "It's very simple, Robin. I see great potential in you. Talents that are still blooming. And I want to make sure they're not crushed before they've had a chance to shine. Power like that needs protection. And only under the banner of a force like the Nine Paths Empire can such talent move freely—without fear, without constant interruption. Just the name alone is enough to make people think twice before challenging you."

She lifted her chin, a subtle gesture of pride.

But Robin's response came swiftly, his tone frank. "Flattering, with all due respect. But I'm not some naive child who gets swayed by pretty words and lofty titles. If it's protection you're offering—I accept it. Happily, even. Who wouldn't want to walk around with the shield of a well-known empire behind them? But let's not kid ourselves. There's always a price. Always a catch." He raised a hand and waved it loosely in the air, his tone almost playful now. "So tell me. What is it you really want from me?"

In truth, Robin had no clear idea just how powerful Renara truly was when compared to the impatient woman. The one he had insulted beyond forgiveness. The one who had ruled over the most powerful empire in the Young Sector—until he shattered it in a blaze of fury and fire. That woman was no saint—he'd heard she was bleeding her planets dry, draining every last drop of life and resource from her territory in a desperate attempt to stay afloat. Surely, she had to be weaker than Renara. Right?

If he could align himself with Renara—cling to her influence, to the immense might of the Nine Paths Empire—then maybe, just maybe, he could shield himself from the fury of that woman. From the consequences of his own recklessness. But such protection… came at a cost. That much, he knew.

Renara's lips curled into a slow, confident smile, her voice as calm as it was terrifying.

"I want everything, Robin Burton. Everything."