Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1304 1304: Origin of planetary gear

Clack ”...Sold!”

”Huh?” The sudden and jarring shift in the environment left Robin momentarily disoriented.

Just seconds ago, he had been standing in an endless, expansive hallway—one with no visible beginning or end—where every individual present seemed completely absorbed in their own affairs, minding their own business without concern for anyone else. Now, however, he found himself abruptly seated on a cushioned chair within a grand, circular auditorium.

At the far end of this auditorium stood a raised platform. Upon it, an elderly man stood motionless. His appearance was striking: a long white beard that extended all the way to the ground, and eyes completely hidden beneath thick, bushy eyebrows. His posture was upright and dignified, and there was something about the stillness of his form that made him appear more like a statue than a living being.

Despite how lifelike the old man looked—down to the wrinkles on his hands and the slow rhythm of his breath—Robin quickly sensed that he wasnʼt a real person. He was part of the system simulation, just like the fairy he had interacted with earlier.

Then, without even moving his lips, the old manʼs voice echoed through the chamber in a deep, resonant tone that could be heard clearly by all:

”We will now proceed to display the next item in the planetary equipment category.”

Whoosh Whoosh

Dozens of graceful fairies appeared in a sudden burst of shimmering light. They fluttered delicately through the air in synchronized patterns above the platform before flying off together toward the left side of the room. A few moments passed before they returned, now carrying a velvet cushion upon which rested a single shoe.

The shoe was a vivid, radiant shade of orange. It had a tall collar that rose to cover the wearerʼs heel entirely. The outer surface gleamed as if made from polished metal, yet there was an evident softness to it as well—especially from the padded interior that appeared cozy and supportive. Regardless of its simplicity, the shoe held a captivating presence, almost demanding attention.

”So thatʼs what planetary equipment looks like?” Robin muttered under her breath, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise. At first glance, it resembled nothing more than a well-made, ordinary boot.

the fairyʼs voice whispered directly into Robinʼs ear, clear and informative.

”Oh, I see…” Robin raised his eyebrows slightly higher, his curiosity deepening. He had genuinely been wondering how they could possibly manifest physical equipment inside a place that clearly wasnʼt bound by physical laws.

Shoo Shoo Shoo

In that instant, the auditoriumʼs seats began to fill again. Some individuals appeared out of thin air, just like Robin had, while others came rushing in through large doors—either walking briskly or flying through the air. One by one, they all took their places with practiced urgency.

”...The Moonlight Step Boots, First Grade. They grant the wearer a 10% increase in speed under all conditions, with that boost rising to 15% during nighttime hours.” The old manʼs voice was calm, but it carried weight. ”The opening bid is 60,000 Energy pearls or its equivalent.”

Robin gave a faint whistle and leaned forward. ”That much… just for a 10% boost in speed? Isnʼt that a little excessive?”

the fairy replied gently, her voice now more serious.

”Thereʼs really something that incredible?” Robin turned to look at the fairy in astonishment. ”…Forgive me if I sound a bit naïve, but I thought planetary equipment was just… well, a fancy name for high-level items. Isnʼt it just the tier above Epic?”

”What do you mean by that exactly?” Robinʼs expression grew serious as he furrowed his brow in contemplation.

The fairy extended her hand toward the radiant boot on the cushion. Her expression was serene, her voice steady and filled with quiet reverence. She continued, her wings flickering gently behind her:

”He... voluntarily pushed his planetary soul into a seventeen-thousand-year slumber? Just for this boot?!” Robin exclaimed, his mind reeling from the revelation. The very idea seemed incomprehensible. Even if the soul wasnʼt actively involved in battle or cultivation, it still served as a vital link—a means to monitor the planet, to keep tabs on distant events. Losing that connection for such an astronomical duration… was that truly worth it?

The fairy tapped gently beside her ear, then pointed twice toward his own ears, emphasizing what he was meant to pay attention to.

”Sixty-five thousand! Sixty-five thousand right here!”

”Seventy-one thousand Energy Pearls!” another voice echoed.

Robinʼs brows furrowed slightly, his eyes sharpening. The bidding was accelerating with fierce intensity. It had already soared past seventy-seven thousand, and the numbers continued to climb steadily, each new bid like a spark tossed into a growing blaze.

Ah… so this is it, Robin thought.

The boot itself wasnʼt the goal. The real aim was this—this auction, this flurry of activity, this sudden river of wealth flowing toward its owner.

Whoever commissioned the planetary soul to make the item wasnʼt just sacrificing power—they were monetizing their planetary soulʼs sacrifice, trading decades of planetary potential for riches now.

And by the standards of the Middle Belt—one of the most economically dense regions in the known systems—this return was not just acceptable, it was extraordinary.

Yet... wasnʼt it also a dangerous move? Robinʼs eyes narrowed in concern. A planetary spirit in deep hibernation could not defend its realm. If someone hostile arrived while the soul was asleep and managed to refine it, the original owner would suffer catastrophic loss—perhaps losing half of their soul domain, or worse, facing complete soul collapse and death.

”What a perilous—but immensely profitable—gamble...” Robin murmured, nodding slowly in appreciation. He found himself eyeing the boot again, drawn to the idea. A ten percent boost to everything he did—not just running, but every task, every skill, every technique... The more he thought about it, the more it sounded irresistible.

Then his eyes snapped open in sudden realization. Something clicked.

He clapped his palms together loudly. ”Hulakʼs purgatory armor!”

From the very first moment Robin encountered Hulak, he had taken note of the strange, nearly invisible armor the man wore. It clung to his form like a second skin, as if it were no more than an undergarment. But that was an illusion. It blazed with the flames of purification, possessing a density and resilience that made it seem unbreakable—even mythical. Hulak could channel its power into his fists, amplifying his strength while shielding his body from the destructive backlash of his own overwhelming force.

That armor... had not been bought, nor looted.

It had been forged specially for him. harvesting the scales of Crixus The Great. Then he had ventured into the territories of the Giant Tribes ordering them to gather the strongest, most sacred metals their people could offer.

And he had entrusted all of that—every rare piece—to Neri.

He hadnʼt given her blueprints or rigid instructions. He had simply provided his refinement ratio—Nihari-level precision—and told her: ”Make me something that will never break in my hands.”

What she created was the Purgatory Armor—sleek, unyielding, almost divine.

”So itʼs planetary-grade, then… or at least half-planetary?” Robin muttered, his fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully. ”Hah~ well, I suppose it doesnʼt really matter. If heʼs wearing that under the armor of the Imperial Guard, even a direct hit from a World Cataclysm wouldnʼt be able to harm him!”

”Eighty-one thousand Pearls!”

Whoosh!

”Eighty-two thousand!”

Whoosh!

Robin glanced around slowly, observing the chamber with a keen, cautious eye. But to his mild surprise, the atmosphere wasnʼt tense at all—it was eerily calm. In fact, every time the bids crossed a certain threshold, a few figures simply disappeared from the room, vanishing without a trace.

The remaining participants seemed… artificial. Their motions were repetitive. Their voices were eerily similar. Every time they raised a hand to bid, it was in the exact same way, at the same speed. No emotion. No outbursts. No frustration or bravado.

Even the old auctioneer on the platform hadnʼt said a word since the bidding began. He remained hunched over his staff, eyes half-closed, barely moving—like someone on the edge of sleep.

”Whatʼs with this... weirdly quiet vibe?” Robin asked, raising an eyebrow in bewilderment.

The fairy was not offended by his tone. She answered patiently, as if she had been asked this question countless times before:

”…Control panel?” Robin frowned, his curiosity piqued.

With a soft smile, the fairy gently raised her hand and made a small wave through the air, as if brushing away an invisible veil.