Lord of the Truth

Step Step

"Oh? The entire executive power of the empire gathered already?"

With swift, confident strides and a sharp, authoritative voice, a woman wearing glasses stepped onto the platform. She held a thick file filled with documents tightly against her chest, exuding an air of strict professionalism. Three individuals followed closely behind her, each moving with purpose.

Zara immediately chuckled and greeted her with open arms, "Sister Emily!"

"Your Highness, the Princess," Emily replied with a polite nod, her lips curling into a small smile before she stepped into the central group, where Caesar was stationed. The individuals accompanying her —High Officer Marcel and two others— also stepped forward, greeting Caesar and the assembled figures with respect.

Caesar acknowledged them with a nod before finally answering Emily's earlier question, though with a hint of amusement in his tone, "Unfortunately, not everyone has arrived yet. A few individuals are still running late… remind me to deduct from their salaries!"

"NoOo please, Anything but the salary! I have a family to feed!" A dramatic voice rang out from the entrance, drawing all eyes toward the doorway. Elizabeth strolled in with a carefree attitude, her voice filled with exaggerated distress.

"What family? You're not even married yet! Besides, you're the wealthiest among us—you possess enough riches to sustain the entire Trent family for thousands of years!"

Caesar turned toward the new arrivals, his irritation over Aro's presence dissolving in an instant. Of course, he had long known who the newcomers would be, "Haha! What took you all so long?"

Elizabeth sighed dramatically and gestured toward the woman beside her. "This one! She dragged me all over the imperial capital like a child on an adventure!"

"I wasn't the one pretending to trip every few steps just to see how the city's living mechanisms would react!" Victoria shot back, her voice filled with playful annoyance.

The back-and-forth banter caused a few amused smiles to spread among the gathered figures.

"I greet the Supreme General and the esteemed assembly," another voice joined in.

Beside the two women, Alexander performed a crisp military salute toward Caesar, his posture radiating disciplined precision. He then offered a slightly less rigid salute toward Sakaar and Aro, showing measured respect.

"Hoho, the pressure here is overwhelming," an elderly voice chuckled. "Had I known this was the atmosphere, I would have happily waited outside instead."

The speaker was none other than the old strategist, Gu, his hands clasped behind his back as he took slow, deliberate steps forward, his sharp eyes scanning the room with amusement.

Following him was General Martin Barnett, whose sharp gaze immediately narrowed at the sight of Aro and his entourage.

Then came Julian Barnett, the renowned Lord of the Warlords, his presence exuding unwavering confidence as he stepped forward.

And finally, there was Raiden—the man whose ever-present grin made it seem as if he carried laughter itself wherever he went.

"...." Aro, sensing the weight of their gazes, subtly observed the newcomers in return. He was certain that in a one-on-one confrontation, he wouldn't lose to any of them. But despite his confidence, he couldn't deny the unusual pressure that settled over him as they approached so casually.

It wasn't their strength alone—it was the aura they carried. The aura of warriors who had fought battles spanning entire planets and emerged victorious. The presence of true generals, seasoned by war and hardened by triumph.

"Ahh! There you are!"

"Hmm?" Aro turned sharply toward the voice, only to see Raiden approaching at a rapid pace, his excitement radiating like static energy in the air.

In mere moments, Raiden closed the distance between them until he was practically breathing down Aro's neck. The proximity was almost unnerving, but the electric enthusiasm in Raiden's eyes was even more so.

"When are we having our second fight?!" Raiden boomed, his voice filled with an almost childlike eagerness. "Some fools keep overhyping you, calling you the strongest lightning user just because you became a Supreme General before me. Let's settle this debate once and for all and show everyone who the real number one lightning wielder in the empire is!"

He leaned in even closer, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "What do you say? This time, I'll be the one to hold back. Hehehe."

"...?" Aro's mind instantly flashed back to their previous encounter—the battle they had fought during His Excellency's first visit to the Orphan Blood Planet. At that time, Aro had been at level 43, while Raiden had been at level 41.

Despite the gap in power, Raiden had persistently provoked him, relentlessly challenging him.

In the end, Aro had agreed to limit his strength to level 41 match Raiden's, and fought him in front of everyone.

That battle had ended in a draw.

But now…

Aro was at level 46.

And Raiden?

From the overwhelming pressure he exuded… it was clear—he was on the verge of breaking through to level 49!

"If you're looking for a fight, our Supreme General doesn't have time to waste on you! But if you insist, I'll play with you instead!" A sharp female voice suddenly cut through the tension, heralding the arrival of new guests onto the scene.

The speaker was none other than Flora—her signature crimson flames dancing wildly between her curved horns, radiating an intense heat. She wasn't alone.

Beside her stood a girl whose physique was an uncanny fusion of human and raptor-like beast, her piercing golden eyes surveying the gathering like a predator analyzing its prey. Next to her, a figure with eight tendril-like legs moved effortlessly, wielding a trident with three deadly blades that gleamed under the light. And among them, standing tall and composed, was Sandria.

Raiden's eyes lit up at the sight of them, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Haha, why not? A little warm-up sounds fun! Come at me, all of y—" Before he could finish his sentence, a firm hand clamped over his mouth, yanking him backward with sudden force.

It was Caesar.

With a single fluid motion, he locked Raiden's head under his arm and effortlessly pulled him back to the center of the platform.

"Shut up and come along," Caesar said in a voice that was both calm and commanding. "I don't want any trouble before the coronation is over!"

Seeing this, Flora sighed and relaxed her stance, letting the embers flickering around her horns settle down as she walked over to Aro.

"…What's with that clown?" she muttered.

But Aro didn't respond.

Crack.

The sound of his fingers tightening into a fist echoed subtly as his knuckles popped. His expression remained unchanged—his lips curled into a stiff, polite smile.

But behind that facade…

His gaze flickered—first toward Caesar and his generals, then toward Sakaar and his subordinates…

And the more he observed, the more his heart pounded.

In terms of sheer numbers, the Third Army boasted the largest force. But when it came to elite warriors—when it came to true power—he was still leagues behind…

Standing among them today, he could feel the undeniable truth pressing down on him.

He had no one.

No one in his army who could stand on equal footing with the titans before him.

Caesar.

Sakar.

Amon.

Richard.

Each of them held an overwhelming presence—an individual force capable of shifting the tide of war on their own.

And now, even Raiden was creeping into that tier?!

Aro clenched his teeth.

He had no one. Not a single one!!

Marshal had been his only obstacle thus far, and he had barely managed to keep him at bay. Meanwhile, those four had already proven themselves capable of annihilating marshals with ease.

At best, Servon and Haros could challenge Raiden—and that was their ceiling!

And that was without even factoring in the others.

Peon.

Theo.

Alexander.

Sayer.

Vairon.

The list went on, each name belonging to an experienced war general, each of them a seasoned veteran of interplanetary battles.

Who among his generals could hold their ground against any of these figures in a duel?

No one.

Even Martin and Elizabeth —who are seemingly a little weaker than the rest— were stronger than every single one of his commanders, except for Haros and Servon!

His only glimmer of hope lay in His Excellency's words.

When His Excellency entrusted him with the Third Army, he had made a promise—

That he would search for a power to grant Aro the strength he lacked.

A force to rival the Flames of Life and the Flames of Death—or at the very least, something close enough to bridge the gap.

But when?

When would it come?

Even if such a power were found, who knew how long it would take before it could actually be used?

"...If only he would agree."Aro muttered the words through gritted teeth.

"Who are you talking about?" Flora leaned closer, wrapping herself around his arm with curiosity.

"…It's nothing."

Aro exhaled sharply, forcing himself to refocus as he turned back toward the grandstands…

Holak.

The man whispered about in rumors.

The only one—besides His Excellency—who had ever stood against Pythor at his peak and lived to tell the tale.

The only warrior capable of going head-to-head with the likes of Caesar, Sakaar, Amon, and Richard.

No— someone who surpassed them.

If only he agreed…

No.

He would agree.

Where else could he possibly go?

But when?!

ROOOOOOOOOOAAAAAARRRR!

A thunderous roar erupted, tearing through the very fabric of the city.

It wasn't just sound—it was force. A tremor that pulsed through the ground, rattling every stone, shaking the very foundation of the empire itself.

In an instant, all other thoughts faded.

Every head in the area instinctively snapped toward the south, drawn by the sheer magnitude of the presence that had just revealed itself.

And just as instinctively—

A wide, knowing grin stretched across Aro's face.

"Speak of the devil…"