Chapter 1532: The pressure
"Haha, that’s the spirit!" Robin grasped the girl’s hand firmly, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "So, may I finally call you Morgana now, without all the cold formalities?"
"...Do as you please." Morgana muttered, retreating back into the safety of her knees, hugging them with both arms like a fortress against the world. Her voice softened, though curiosity slipped through. "And you... what is your name, stranger—the man who suddenly became my master?"
"My name is Robin Burton." Robin pointed to himself with a proud yet playful laugh. "A Truth Chosen, a professor in a stellar academy, and a Planetary Emperor. You can address me however you like: Professor Robin, Master, Lord, Your Majesty... any of those titles will suffice~"
"Truth Chosen, huh? No wonder you’ve seen and experienced so much. Hmmm... what if I just call you Robin?" Morgana let a small, teasing smile curl across her lips.
"Tut-tut~" Robin wagged his finger, still smiling, a glint of mock sternness in his gaze. "Respect is important, young lady. Remember this well—you serve me, not the other way around."
"..." Morgana pressed her lips together and looked away.
Since childhood she had been raised as a princess within a grand millennial planetary empire. Later, she abandoned all ties and wandered alone across the stars, toppling whoever she wished without bowing to anyone. When, truly, had she last given respect to another person? Perhaps never. The concept itself felt alien, something her pride resisted. It would take her time—perhaps a very long time—to adjust to this new dynamic.
Robin, however, did not linger on her silence. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully before he asked, "Now that I think about it... for hundreds of thousands of years you’ve been stealing specter farms. You invade living worlds, slaughter or drive out their inhabitants, then use planetary displacement devices to steal the planets themselves, hiding them forever in the boundless sea of stars. Where are those worlds now?"
"I relocate them to a safe place," Morgana replied calmly, almost proudly. "A semi-sealed spatial pocket hidden on the sector’s edge. No one can find them without the precise coordinates—and of course... no one possesses those coordinates but me."
Robin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And why do you take them there?"
"So that the planet can begin to heal, while the specters living on it fade away as their cycle ends." Morgana rested her chin upon her knees, her voice gaining a softer, gentler rhythm. "I dislike killing them outright. They still have remnants of awareness—fragments of fear, of the will to survive. They were people once, just like you and me. So I let them wither, let them starve, and allow nature itself to bring them to an end. If a planet is left without the living or new specters forming, all of them vanish in a few thousand years. Then, slowly, the planetary spirit heals, and the natural cycle of life is restored, little by little."
A fragile but genuine smile spread across her pale face. "Seventeen planets have already reached that stage. Life has returned—plants sprouting, small animals roaming once more. It’s... beautiful. To witness life reborn after such ruin is a rare, precious sight."
"Seventeen?!" Robin’s eyes shot wide, his voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. "Just how many planets have you stolen in total?"
"Forty-nine worlds." Morgana’s gaze drifted toward the cave’s entrance, her tone carrying both pride and weariness. "The Specter Valley was meant to be the fiftieth—the final one—before my soul domain collapsed from the strain. But fate had other plans it seems..."
"There are forty-nine specter farms in just mid-sector 99 alone?!" Robin felt blood rush to his head, anger pulsing in his veins. He had seen firsthand the horror of such farms—the endless cycle of specters harvested and multiplied!
"I haven’t even scratched the surface." Morgana’s sigh carried the weight of centuries, her dark eyes shimmering with sorrow.
"...!!!" Robin’s fists clenched, his expression darkening. Rage burned in his heart. He could understand why cultivators relied on specters—soul cultivation was nearly impossible without them. But how many powers, how many entire clans had willingly chosen such a twisted, demonic path? Had this vile practice become a fashion among the soul races of the sector?!
No wonder Theo had warned him, before he even set foot here, that specters dominated this sector, that the soul path was king in this place. The truth was undeniable. This wasn’t merely corruption. It was... pure evil.
Robin exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down. He shook his head, gaze dropping for a moment as his fury cooled into determination. One day, when he held this sector within his grasp, all such atrocities would end. That was the only way forward.
Was he a hypocrite? Perhaps. He would seize power by force, and the blood of countless soldiers would stain the stars. Yet in his heart, he clung to a single conviction: at least peace would follow. At least there would be an end to the endless slaughter.
A faint smile, bitter yet steady, curved across his lips as he looked back at Morgana. "Forty-nine planets, huh? That practically makes you a planetary empress in your own right."
"Indeed..." Morgana’s eyes brightened for a fleeting instant, mischief flickering there. "Then call me Your Majesty."
Robin’s face fell into a deadpan scowl. "Don’t push your luck."
"Was worth a try." Morgana chuckled softly, her laughter echoing lightly in the cavern as she turned her gaze away once more.
"At the right time, I’ll send an expedition with you to inspect those seventeen planets. If they’re ready, we can transfer them to become part of the Grave Empire. Most likely, the ones who owned those farms wouldn’t even recognize them now, even if they saw them."
"...?!" Morgana’s eyes flew wide. "The Grave Empire belongs to you?!"
"You know of us?" Robin asked in surprise. "I thought you didn’t keep up with the news..."
"...Hard to ignore them. They’ve taken a vast portion of the sector by storm since their appearance. In just a few years, they’ve become a respected multi-planetary empire with numerous alliances, and they’ve already subdued most of their enemies. Although their planetary emperor, a high-level Nexus State cultivator, has never spoken a word, Marshal Aro is said to be a true prodigy in both diplomacy and war. They say he can kill World Cataclysms while still being only in the realm of a Martial Emperor. Everyone talks about him!"
She lifted her gaze to meet Robin’s. "Are you saying you know them?"
"Aro is my third supreme general, and that high-level Nexus State planetary emperor is my vassal." Robin laughed proudly.
"Your vassal? Wait... Aro is just the third supreme general? You mean you have two others like that monster?!" Morgana’s eyes widened even further. "Is this the system you wanted me to be the fourth in?!"
"What, are you already feeling the pressure? Get a grip—you’re a Royal Soul Master." Robin laughed heartily, delighted to hear praise for the subordinates he had painstakingly raised.
But Morgana didn’t share in his amusement. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You know I could attack the Grave Empire by myself."
"I know." Robin lifted his hands in mock surrender. "If you wish to be the fourth, the position is yours. If not, they’re still your comrades—you’ll find them at your side when hardship comes."
"...I’ll think about it." Morgana looked away. "You may go now."
"I may go?" Robin smiled, amused. "And what about you?"
"There’s no way I can leave through the gates, obviously." Morgana gave him a look of disbelief. "You’ll have to return with a phantom starship or come up with some plan to smuggle me out. I’ll remain here, endure as best I can until you come back. Just... don’t take too long."
"Hah~" Robin sighed in relief that she hadn’t refused him outright. "No need. We’ll leave through the gate—while you’re in my hands."