Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1771: Soul Society


"….."

Inside his professor's apartment, Robin slowly opened his eyes, then let out a long, tired exhale and rubbed his head with both hands, as if trying to ease a pressure that had been accumulating for days.

Unlike the past—when he used to spend a great amount of time in the Soul Society, especially inside the Hall of Meditation and Focus—now he tried to limit his visits to the smallest number possible, almost treating them like a burden he wanted to postpone endlessly. His trips were reduced to picking up tasks and delivering completed ones, nothing more. Lately, he even began taking fifty tasks at once just to increase the gap between visits… stretching every interval as far as he reasonably could.

After once having absolute faith in the Soul Society—a system that maintained its honorable reputation for tens of millions of years—he now acted with extreme caution, like an ant hugging a wall so it wouldn't get stepped on by a passing giant. Every step he took inside their halls felt like walking through an invisible battlefield where a single mistake could cost him his life.

Even the soul seed inside his soul domain —despite its core condition preventing it from spying on the state of the soul domain— he still placed several seals on it anyway, isolating it completely and cutting it off from anything it could sense or influence.

And although those seals permanently consumed a considerable portion of his energy, draining him day after day, he had no issue with it at all. He welcomed the exhaustion if it meant even a sliver of extra safety.

The reason was Arkalon.

Arkalon's memories of how he was killed made Robin's heart tighten like a clenched fist whenever he interacted with the Soul Society. That genius of soul studies—a man capable of completely altering the entire structure of the first cultivation path, the path of soul force—was murdered after attempting to spread the Soul Cultivation Technique! A prodigy so brilliant that a single idea of his could rewrite centuries of accumulated knowledge… yet he was silenced before he could change the world.

And his killers—members of that Syndicate—told him verbally, to his face, that the Soul Society was the one who sent them.

This incident troubled Robin greatly… If the Soul Society viewed him as a threat to their interests, why didn't they abduct him and force him to create more techniques for them? Why leave someone like him free at all?

But he quickly dismissed the idea.

In creative work, pressure and threat are impossible tools. They were poison, not motivation.

The innovator, the painter, the author—any profession requiring deep focus and creativity—cannot function at gunpoint. How could a person concentrate and produce anything with a weapon pressed to their head, with death breathing on the back of their neck?

When someone once attempted something similar with Robin, the result was that he created a mind-control technique—because that was the only thing that pain and pressure could push him toward at the time, the only direction his mind could flee to under suffocating terror.

People of such professions can spend ten years searching for an idea, wandering through dead ends and failures, only to have a single afternoon spark a concept that immortalizes them forever.

There are only two ways to deal with people like that… buy them, or kill them.

And Arkalon could not be bought… they tried everything: offers, temptations, threats, promises of unimaginable wealth—nothing worked.

After reading Arkalon's memories more than once, Robin exhaled with genuine relief that everything he had ever sold in the Soul Society was related only to martial arts, talismans, and arrays—never anything tied to soul studies, never anything that could be interpreted as crossing the forbidden line.

Because he had been standing dangerously close to Arkalon's fate… without even knowing it, without realizing that one wrong idea, one curious experiment, could have placed the noose around his own neck as well.

Robin now possessed at least three groundbreaking innovations, each capable of provoking a reaction as extreme—or perhaps even more catastrophic—than the one he had faced from Morpheus the Dreamer. The very thought of these devices in the wrong hands sent a shiver down his spine.

The Soul-Force Storage Chain:

A chain that could function as a second spiritual domain, massively expanding the capacity of any soul master. With this, even the most ordinary soul users could amplify their abilities to unprecedented levels. The sheer potential it held could tip the balance of power across the universe, turning minor conflicts into full-blown wars if misused.

The Converter:

This was one half of the pendant he had entrusted to Morgana. Through it, a soul master could convert their soul units directly into control over natural laws, manipulating flame, earth, destruction, and a myriad of other forces—as long as they understood the precise pattern formulas. Even a partial leak of this knowledge could destabilize civilizations. Every soul master would pursue Robin relentlessly: some desperate to purchase it, others scheming to steal it, and countless more intent on preventing him from ever producing another. The universe itself could tremble under its influence.

The Royal Star-Pressure Assistant:

Originally the creation of Arkalon, this device had remained hidden, unknown to the Soul Society. Its revelation alone could trigger chaos, for it had the capacity to multiply the number of Royal Soul Masters exponentially. If word got out that Robin now held it, even the most secure empires would face instability.

Yet these were not his only schemes. Robin was venturing into ideas regarding the soul itself, ideas that bordered on madness. He was developing an array capable of compressing soul units during harvesting and transforming them into precious emeralds.

If perfected, this technology would render specter farms obsolete, eradicating the horrific practices he had witnessed with his own eyes. But that was only part of its potential—once completed, it would also act as a limitless money-printing machine, generating wealth without end, never once running dry.

"Ughhh…" Robin groaned, rubbing the side of his head. He had been mere moments away from handing over one of these devices to the Soul Society. Had he done so, everything he had worked for might have collapsed, leaving him exposed despite his good intentions.

Yet, severing ties with the Soul Society was impossible. They still controlled the universe's information network and remained his greatest source of profit. All he could do was shield his major works from their scrutiny, reduce direct contact with their leaders, and hope that peace would hold long enough for him to gain the freedom to publish whatever he desired, whenever he desired.

…After spending a long while reflecting with gratitude on Arkalon, Robin finally opened a soul gate—hoooom—and from it emerged a soul creature. Its form resembled that of a human, muscular and imposing, with strong, angular jaw bones and long, flowing hair cascading down its back. Arkalon stepped forward in full splendor, radiating a brilliant white-gold light.

"Hello, my friend. I thought it was time you got some fresh air—you've been confined to the domain for too long," Robin said, his smile bright and cheerful.

"…?" Arkalon tilted his head, scrutinizing Robin from head to toe. "What's with that smile? Have you finally accepted your sexual preferences?"

Robin's smile faded instantly. He massaged his forehead, resisting the urge to strike his own soul creature out of frustration. To shift the topic, he tossed a casual question:

"How are things progressing with the Soul Force Absorption Technique?"

"Take a look," Arkalon replied. He waved his hand, and a complex network of inscriptions appeared before Robin, folding and compressing repeatedly until it formed a nearly perfect, closed sphere almost as tall as Robin himself.

"Hmm…" Robin widened his eyes and stepped out of bed, circling the sphere in awe.

"It's complete…" His voice trembled with excitement. Then, pointing firmly at it, he shouted to Arkalon:

"It's complete!!"

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