Lord of the Truth-Chapter 1120: Citizen

*Bzzzt* A spatial rift suddenly tore open, crackling with energy, and from within, Robin stepped out with calm, measured steps. His hands were clasped behind his back in a relaxed manner, his expression unreadable. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings as he let out a thoughtful hum.

"Hmm?"

This was the very cave where Richard, Caesar, Amon, and Sakaar used to gather. It was their sanctuary before Robin had left them behind in search of Jabba. But now, there was nothing here but silence.

"It looks like I arrived too late…" Robin murmured to himself, a faint smile forming on his lips. Yet, there was something oddly reassuring about this emptiness. The infirmary being abandoned meant only one thing: they had all recovered enough to leave. That was a good sign.

Satisfied, he turned slightly, already preparing to tear open another passage through space. But just as he took his first step forward, a voice suddenly called out from the side, "Ay, You! Brother, over here!!"

Robin stopped mid-step and turned his head slightly. His gaze landed on a familiar figure— Holak.

"Oh, you’re still alive? How reassuring~" Robin’s voice held no surprise, only mild amusement with a smile on his face. Of course, he had noticed Holak the moment he arrived. He had simply chosen to ignore him.

Holak had suffered unimaginable torment in the battle against Pythor. Among all the warriors who had fought that day, only Amon could compare to him in terms of sheer physical damage. The difference, however, was crucial— Amon’s body was entirely composed of blood, allowing him to regenerate with relative ease. But Holak… Holak was different. For someone like him, even a full week wouldn’t be nearly enough for recovery.

By the end of his brutal fight with Pythor, Holak had been reduced to little more than a shattered husk. His entire body had been mutilated beyond recognition—his skin flayed, his flesh riddled with gaping holes, as though his very being had been torn apart from the inside. Not a single muscle remained unscathed, not a single bone intact. And, of course, there was his arms… or rather, what was left of them. It had been completely obliterated when he had dared to punch Pythor’s core crystal with sheer brute force.

Yet, despite all this, Holak had refused to fall. The only thing keeping him upright in those final moments was the sheer force of his own unyielding pride— the unshakable belief that he was the strongest, that he could not be defeated.

And as if his suffering wasn’t already enough, the battle had taken a devastating turn when the Shadow appeared. The ensuing clash between Robin and the Shadow had turned the battlefield into utter chaos, and Holak —already battered beyond reason— had been dragged into the destruction. He had been submerged in molten lava multiple times, forced to swallow the searing heat until his very insides burned.

The fact that he was still alive now? That was nothing short of a miracle.

"I see you’ve improved. Congratulations," Robin chuckled, his sharp eyes taking in Holak’s condition. Though he was still clearly injured, the once deathly pale hue of his skin had begun to regain a faint blue tint, and the gaping wounds across his body had started to close.

Holak, however, was in no mood for congratulations.

"Fuck you!" he snapped, his voice filled with frustration. "Your damn kids left me behind again! That white-haired brat of yours refused to speed up my healing! I didn’t even get a pillow! I’ve been sleeping on a stone!!"

Robin burst into laughter. "Hah! That’s only natural. You’re not part of the Empire. The fact that they even let you recover here —inside an infirmary meant exclusively for my kids and supreme generals— is already an exception. You fought alongside us, sure, but that doesn’t make you one of us. You made that clear yourself, didn’t you?"

He then tilted his head and asked, "By the way, do you know where they went?"

Holak let out an exhausted sigh, his head still resting against the rough stone surface. Moving too much still hurts.

"I don’t know exactly where they are now. They left two days ago," he muttered. "But I overheard the white-haired brat talking about heading to the Lava Sea… and those two damned red-skinned dirt eaters went with him."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "The demons too went to there, huh?" That made sense. It was only natural for them to venture into the Lava Sea—they were scavengers, always on the hunt for any useful remains or corpses left behind, "And what about Caesar? Has he recovered?"

"Yeah, he woke up three days ago. Left for Planet Jura." Holak paused for a moment, then added with a smirk, "Someone from the new planets came looking for you—some kind of issue, apparently. But, of course, you were too busy relaxing, plucking flowers or whatever the hell you do in your free time. So, your black-haired brat went in your place."

Robin didn’t react to the teasing, but Holak wasn’t done. He slowly lifted his head, just enough to look Robin directly in the eyes.

"Tell me, did you find that Jabba guy?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity. "He seemed like a good giant."

"None of your business." Robin waved a dismissive hand before turning away, already in the process of opening another spatial rift. "You can go back to whatever you were doing."

"Wait!" Holak suddenly called out, raising his incomplete arm as if reaching for something just beyond his grasp.

His next words were quieter, almost hesitant.

"What… what am I to you?" he asked. "Where exactly do we stand in our relationship?"

"Stop saying weird things! What if someone hears you?!"

Robin turned sharply, his face betraying a hint of embarrassment. This creature… He had no sense of proper wording. No restraint. No filter.

"Secondly," he continued, crossing his arms, "what do you even mean by ’what am I to you’? You’re a citizen."

"A citizen?" Holak’s burned eyebrows furrowed, confusion flickering in his weary eyes.

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

"Of course," Robin said matter-of-factly. "You live on Nihari—my personal domain. And as long as you refuse to be part of the military establishment, that makes you an ordinary citizen. A commoner."

Then, his piercing gaze locked onto Holak’s, and a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.

"Unless… you have a different opinion?"

"...."

Holak closed his eyes, resting his head back against the hard stone beneath him. After a moment, his voice came out quieter, as if the weight of reality had finally settled in.

"...Citizens have no opinions. They listen. They obey."

"Good. I’m glad you understand."

Robin’s voice was firm, final. He was about to turn away, to step through another rift, but something made him pause.

He stood still for a moment, looking down at the ground. A memory surfaced—the instant when Pythor had lunged at him, desperate and furious, even after Robin had ripped his heart out.

In that moment, Robin still possessed twenty thousand soul units. He could have defended himself with ease. But Holak… Holak hadn’t known that.

Despite his shattered body, despite having nothing left to give, Holak had thrown himself into the fray, using the last remnants of his strength to shove Pythor away.

Robin exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose before turning back to Holak.

"Listen… there’s something Jabba was right about." His voice was quieter now, edged with an honesty rarely heard from him. "I despise the Nihari giants with all my heart and soul."

Holak lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

"You, as a race, are creatures driven by two things—lust and betrayal. It’s in your blood. It’s woven into your very nature, no matter how much you try to hide it."

"If that’s what you think~" Holak shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Then, after a short pause, he lifted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

"...But you’re different, in a way," he admitted. "At least when it comes to lust, you’re still a virgin. You’ve spent your entire life chasing power, never once distracted by women or any other pleasures of the flesh. And as for betrayal…"

His gaze turned sharper.

"Even though you annoyed me back when I ordered you to bring reinforcements during the Safe City battle —and you refused— you were only following the terms of our agreement. And up until now, I haven’t seen you commit outright betrayal. Even though you’ve had plenty of chances to do so."

"...I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or be offended by the ’virgin’ comment."

Holak smirked, but before he could make another sarcastic remark, Robin interrupted him.

"I’ll give you one last chance." His tone shifted, turning authoritative, commanding. "Work for me."

Holak raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Serving under my command will not diminish you. Power, glory, authority—everything you desire, you will have. Even that so-called divine tattoo of yours… I can refine it, and enhance it. I can unlock your body’s full potential and place you on the battlefield where you truly belong. Under my guidance, you will ascend to heights beyond your imagination!"

For a rare moment, Holak looked genuinely contemplative. He exhaled deeply and muttered, almost to himself,

"Hmm, I do want to break through, it’s been a while since I have…"

Robin clicked his tongue in irritation. "Tsk~ Forget it." He waved dismissively before tearing another rift into space. "Think about it and come find me if you agree. If not, that’s fine too. Find a place to live out your days in peace…"

Then, his voice dropped slightly, his words carrying the weight of an unshakable decree.

"But forget about the Northern Edge Mountain. It’s no longer yours, in either case."

*Bzzzt*

With a single step, Robin vanished from the cave.

Left alone in the dimly lit space, Holak let out a dry chuckle, his usual sarcastic smirk returning to his lips.

"...All I asked for was a damn pillow, you bastards…"

But slowly, his laughter faded. His features darkened, shifting from amusement to quiet resentment, then to something colder. Something heavier.

Then—

"Pffft—"

He spat out a mouthful of blood.