Lord of the Truth
Chapter 1388: Fish food

Chapter 1388: Fish food

"...It is the law responsible for the end of the world."

"...."

Robin’s excitement, once ablaze with curiosity, was snuffed out in an instant. His momentum stalled. His feet froze as he started to look around again.

"...I just told you about the end of the world, and you’re already scanning the area looking for a way out?"

The blind old man tilted his head slightly, a hint of genuine offense in his tone.

"Is that how little my words mean to you? Does that phrase stir nothing in your heart?"

"I have things to do," Robin said, brushing past the moment with casual dismissal.

"Too many, actually—so many that even a full millennium feels like a lazy weekend. I don’t have time to stand here and entertain the dramatic prophecies of some lunatic in rags."

He waved his hand dismissively and turned, stepping further into the dense, untamed jungle of the island.

Maybe—just maybe—there was a village nearby. Someone who could tell him where the hell he was.

By his own estimation, he had spent several years in transit—precisely three years and eight months.

That certainly wasn’t a short trip... and it most definitely didn’t feel like a simple jump within Mid-Sector 100.

He hadn’t traveled across sectors before, not really, so he didn’t know exactly how long such a leap should take.

But one thing was certain: he hadn’t landed anywhere close to where he was supposed to be.

First, he needed to know where he was. Then, he could find a way to make his way toward Mid-Sector 99, just as he had intended from the start.

Zoooooooo—

A sudden, dizzying wave of vertigo struck him. The ground twisted beneath his feet, the world spun—and before he could even react—

He was back.

On the beach.

Facing the blind old man again.

"...?!"

"And that," the old man said with a sharp breath, "is why I called you ignorant."

His tone was filled with equal parts disappointment and frustration.

"You have someone like me standing right in front of you, offering you insights—ancient truths, freely given—and yet you act like a spoiled child. You turn your back and walk away without so much as a thank you."

He shook his head slowly, as if Robin’s arrogance physically pained him.

"Your narcissism... your inflated self-worth... it’s off the charts. Honestly, I have no idea how you’re still alive."

"Don’t accuse me of what you are!" Robin snapped, his voice rising with heat.

"Just a moment ago you said the Law of Truth was weak, and now you claim it’s responsible for the end of the world? Are you kidding me?! That’s not just wrong—it’s absurd beyond comprehension!"

He threw his arms wide, taking the matter seriously now, truly offended.

"There is no law more peaceful than the Law of Truth.

When I first awakened it, I couldn’t even use it for combat! Nothing.

Even after I learned some tricks, they were either defensive or purely supportive.

You yourself said it’s a law for observing things, not interfering with them.

So tell me—how can that possibly line up with your ridiculous doomsday theory?!

Did whatever blinded your eyes also scramble your brain?"

"Based on everything we know about the Law of Truth," the blind man responded calmly, "yes—it’s useless. Functionally inert. What does it do? It lets you see patterns."

He gestured toward Robin with a tilt of his head.

"Before you ever arrived on a planet... tell me—was there a Truth Chosen who laid the groundwork before you?

Or did you find complex systems already in place—techniques, structures, tools—all created by people who didn’t even know what a Master Law was?"

"...."

Robin had no words. The silence between them was loud.

The old man was right. Completely.

Planet Jura had advanced all the way to level 40 without a Truth Chosen.

They had even created awe-inspiring technologies like Divine Decree Embodiment—on their own.

And it wasn’t just Jura.

Orphan’s Blood. Greenland. Nearly every planet touched by the True Beginning Empire had made progress without ever seeing a Truth Chosen.

Only Nihari had birthed three of them—including Jabba, the most recent—

And even that might’ve been due to Nihari’s unique position as a galactic seed, or just pure coincidence.

And ironically, Nihari didn’t benefit much from the three!

On every world, the same pattern emerged:

Primitive techniques were created first. Then, over the course of generations, they were refined, purified, perfected.

A Truth Chosen could dramatically accelerate this evolution—but their presence was never necessary.

"The so-called Eye of Truth is, in my view, nothing but a joke."

The old man exhaled sharply.

"It’s a small tip, a token of appreciation—thrown down by the cosmic laws when they find someone curious enough to keep digging.

A breadcrumb."

Then his expression changed—his voice steadied into something deeper.

"But the Master Law of Truth...

That is not the Eye of Truth.

It is not a reward."

He raised a finger as if pointing to something distant beyond the horizon.

"It is a force. A thread in the loom of the cosmos, woven into the final Chapter of existence."

"The Master Law of Truth... has nothing to do with the Eye of Truth?"

A strange smile curled on Robin’s lips as he tilted his head.

His voice was thick with sarcasm.

"You’re rambling.

Your mind’s gone.

And judging by the state of your nonsense, it’s getting worse.

Seriously—have you seen a doctor lately?"

"Are you rejecting your teacher’s words simply because you don’t like them?"

The blind old man’s brows knitted together, his tone calm, but with a quiet edge of disappointment—almost like a father reprimanding a wayward child.

Robin, unfazed, scoffed and waved his hand with a flick of irritation.

"I’m rejecting them because they’re complete nonsense. Empty words.

What could you possibly know about Truth—or the divine nature of the cosmic laws that shape existence itself?!"

"...Far more than you could imagine,"

The old man sighed, a sound that carried centuries of weariness.

Then, slowly—deliberately—he raised his right hand toward his face.

"I know how suffocating the eye of truth can be. How it doesn’t inspire... but paralyzes.

I know it’s the most frustrating, disorienting, and progress-stalling law ever born from the fabric of existence.

If you cling to it too tightly... you’ll spend your entire life shackled—enslaved to a role with no reward, chasing a dream with no substance. A phantom goal with no flesh... only illusion."

"You senile old fool, stop your drivel before I—"

Robin stepped forward, his hand tightening into a fist, eyes narrowed as if ready to lash out.

But the words froze in his throat.

The old man’s fingers had already reached the worn gray band tied around his head.

And with aching slowness, he lifted the right side—revealing the hollow socket beneath.

"..."

Robin’s frown deepened, as expected.

There was nothing inside. Just emptiness. A void where an eye should’ve been.

And then—

Vzzzzhhhhh...

The air changed.

Energy stirred, softly at first—then gathered like a silent storm.

A swirl of glowing essence began to spiral around the empty eye socket, forming a concentrated vortex of reality-bending power.

And before Robin could speak—

The vortex began to coalesce into an eye.

A real eye.

Alive. Aware. Radiating something far beyond physicality.

Clap. Clap.

Robin mockingly clapped his hands together, his sarcasm thick.

"How dramatic. Bravo, old man. The mysterious aura, the ancient gestures, the glowing energy—it’s all very spooky.

I’m so impressed. Look—goosebumps."

But the display didn’t vanish.

Instead, the spiral faded gently, and in its place remained a beautiful eye—clear as sunlight on still water.

Flawless. Crystalline. Beautiful in a way that defied anatomy.

Even Robin—mockery still fresh on his tongue—couldn’t help but stare for several moments.

"Oh? Did your body really have goosebumps?"

The old man’s mouth curled into a grin, revealing that jagged gap where his teeth should’ve been.

Then, without warning, a glow began to build in that new eye.

Its dark hue shifted—

into a piercing, luminous green.

Robin’s breath caught.

The green glow wasn’t just light.

"Hmm... Muscular tension: zero. Pulse: normal. Respiration: steady.

You’re lying, my dear disciple, you didn’t have goosebumps," the old man said with a smirk.

Step. Step.

Robin instinctively stepped backward, his heart skipping a beat, eyes wide.

"Th-this... this is... the Eye of Truth?!"

Of course he recognized it.

That unmistakable glow—the sacred green light—had accompanied him all the way through his early journey, up until Level 20.

He had seen his student, Jabba, use it countless times in battle and in research.

This was the original, unfiltered, undistorted Eye of Truth.

"It’s garbage," the old man muttered bitterly, breaking the silence with pure disdain.

"A worthless ornament. A cosmic pity prize."

Then, before Robin could react, the old man pulled his hand back—

And in one swift, horrifying motion—

Swoosh—

He plunged all five fingers deep into the eye socket...

...And ripped the glowing eye out.

"..."

Blood exploded instantly, coating the old man’s face in dark streaks, pouring freely down his wrinkled cheeks, pooling on the sands below like spilled ink.

The green glow flickered, twisted, and died.

"Wh-what are you doing, you maniac?"

Robin shouted, but even his voice wavered.

His reaction came too late—not because he didn’t care, but because his brain simply couldn’t comprehend what he had just witnessed.

This wasn’t a performance.

This was madness given form.

"Hehehe... Relax," the old man chuckled, as if he had just removed a splinter.

"It was just a first-stage Eye of Truth. Pathetic, really."

He calmly retied the cloth over his now-bloody socket, sealing the void once more with quiet finality.

Then, without even glancing at Robin, he turned toward the sea...

And tossed the glowing eye into the ocean like trash.

"It’ll serve better as fish food."