The blind old man lifted his right hand, wiping the blood calmly from his face as if it were rain. Then, with slow grace, he returned his hand behind his back and resud gazing out over the endless sea. He inhaled deeply, letting the clean ocean breeze brush against his aged skin, as though it were trying to carry away the weight of his mories.
"...At the beginning of my life, I was just like you. Just like every Chosen of Truth in their reckless youth—consud by curiosity.
From the mont I first opened my eyes, I had a hunger for knowledge that devoured every boundary. I questioned everything. Studied everything. Pulled apart the very fabric of what I saw to understand it."
He paused—eyes unseen, yet soul wide open.
"But after each great discovery... there was always sothing that made feel small—sothing I could never explain."
"It was the balance," the old man continued, his voice more distant now, as if speaking not just to Robin, but to the universe itself.
"The terrifying, immaculate balance that underlies everything in existence.
The way every law, every elent, every force is delicately countered by another.
It was a system so finely tuned... so mathematically perfect... that even the tiniest disturbance could cause the entire structure to crumble."
The wind shifted.
"That balance haunted . It wasn’t hidden—it was blatantly obvious.
So precise. So undeniable. So symtrical that I thought I was losing my mind.
How? How could sothing like this possibly co to exist by chance?!"
"...."
Robin’s initial shock had fully faded now. He simply nodded, slowly, understanding.
He had seen that balance.
Felt it.
Every ti he deciphered the final blueprint of a law... every ti he discovered how it intertwined with other laws—so that held it back, others that enhanced it, others that prevented its extinction, and still others that stopped it from exceeding its bounds—
It was always there. That sa terrifying precision. That eerie sense of intent.
He still rembered the nights he couldn’t sleep after those revelations.
And that exact fear was what had driven his argunt with Pythor.
That level of precision could not—could not—be the product of chaos.
No rational being could look at the architecture of the heavenly laws and believe they wrote and balanced themselves.
And for soone who walks the path of Truth, that idea... that truth... was devastating.
"...From that point on, I gave up dissecting beasts and objects like I used to," the old man said.
"I abandoned combat training entirely.
At just fifteen years old, I left behind the world and its noise.
I exiled myself, consud not with the laws themselves, but with the delicate balance that binds them all."
He closed his eyes beneath the cloth, breathing in deeply, as if rembering the long years.
"I researched. I observed. I tested, compared, recorded. I chased the pattern behind every pattern.
And eventually..."
A bitter smile ghosted across his face.
"...Eventually, I was rewarded with the Eye of Truth."
He laughed quietly—a dry, humorless sound.
"Before that mont, I hadn’t trained for almost sixty years.
I had only ever reached Level 8 by that point, I believed—foolishly, perhaps—that I could find a lead, even the faintest thread, that pointed to the Master Law of Balance.
And if I found it... I’d use it to break through to level 11, to rise higher."
He looked down at his hand as if rembering the mont it first held power.
"But instead... the cosmos handed the eye of Truth."
Robin clenched his fists, veins twitching at his temple like live wires.
"Oh, how wonderful," he said through gritted teeth, voice thick with sarcasm.
This insane old man gained the Eye of Truth peacefully after six decades of scholarly retreat, while he—Robin—had to die just to awaken it!
"It was wonderful. Or rather, overwhelming."
The old man let the wind carry his voice.
"That day, I saw sothing I wasn’t ready for—a whole new realm of patterns, woven like threads across reality.
I panicked. I fled.
I returned to my family—yes, I had a respectable family in the Middle Belt, with access to decent knowledge—and they confird what I suspected:
I had awakened the Eye of Truth.
And with it, the opportunity to build my own Pillars, to beco a powerful and respected Truth Chosen... To raise my family to glory."
Robin narrowed his eyes.
"Then why didn’t you do it?" he asked quietly. "Was it your obsession with balance? Or was it your hatred of Truth?"
"Neither," the old man said, shaking his head.
"At that ti, they were... equal in my eyes.
One gave purpose.
The other gave vision."
He paused.
"But then I found sothing. A detail. A forgotten scrap of knowledge buried in an ancient record.
A single line that changed everything."
He kept his back turned to Robin, still gazing at the sea. Still letting his spiritual sense dance with the gentle waves.
"...It was about the power of the Eye of Truth.
About the patterns that reveal themselves on Pillars and Foundations when they are being constructed."
"The power of the Eye of Truth... and the patterns that reveal themselves?"
Robin furrowed his brows slightly.
Every ti his Foundations were destroyed, he would only rebuild the part ford from raw energy. The Law of Truth, on the other hand, would rewrite itself—etching symbols and runes that even he, their wielder, couldn’t read.
He had never truly had control over that process.
"Exactly," the old blind man nodded, his voice carrying the weight of bitter understanding.
"I read that Chosen of Truth differ as vastly as the sky and earth when it cos to the strength of their Eyes... and the number of pattern types they can access.
They also differ in how deeply the markings of Truth appear upon their Foundations.
So have just a single Rune.
Others—their Foundations are buried in them. Covered. Engraved like ancient stone tablets."
He took a breath.
"And this... deeply affects what they’ll be capable of in the future."
The old man sighed long and low.
"I read that this difference... stems from the reason a person earned the Eye to begin with.
The thing they were seeking when the universe gave it to them."
"If you were chasing balance, like I was...
If you were researching bloodlines, or a specific race... or so specialized branch of study like talisman crafting—
Then the cosmos gives you the Eye of Truth as a re accessory. A small gift. A research aid.
In that case... those people, even if they build their Pillars with it, are false Chosen of Truth."
He paused for a long mont, before continuing in a quieter, colder tone.
"...That’s very different from those who were seeking the Law of Truth itself from the beginning.
Those are the ones... the only ones... who have even the slightest chance of reaching the Fifth Stage or beyond."
He turned slowly toward Robin, studying him for a heartbeat.
"...You’re one of them, aren’t you?
That’s the only explanation for how far you’ve reached... at your age."
His voice darkened, but not with accusation—only confusion.
"I don’t understand people like you, Chosen of Truth.
What goes on in your heads?
What drives a child—a being who knows nothing of Truth’s nature—to go chasing after the Law of Truth itself?
What were you even looking for at the beginning?
What did Truth an to you, back then?
What would ever drive a rational person to wake up one day and say, ’Today, I’ll search for Truth.’
...Truth of what, exactly?!"
"...."
Robin stood frozen. As if those words reached into his chest and pulled sothing loose.
Now that he thought about it...
The first Chosen of Truth in Nihari had been studying the differences between races.
The second had begun studying tattoos, only after encountering studies of the Law in his predecessor’s work.
Jabba, the third, had followed Robin’s own research—and chose to study bloodlines.
And based on what he’d read of the others...
The dog-Headed Elder had focused on the science of pills.
The Spiked Elder had devoted his life to martial arts.
So... is that why he was different from all of them?
Because he wasn’t looking for so side discipline?
Because he had been looking for the Law of Truth itself, from the very beginning?
Was that why the All-Seeing God had said what he said the day they t?
That soone like him was never ant to discover the Law of Truth?
That the children of such a young world were not ready to know what Truth actually was?
That day... the All-Seeing God didn’t speak about the gift of the Eye.
He spoke of the discovery of the Law itself.
Even in their last conversation, he ntioned how Robin had severed his fate and forged a new destiny by discovering the Law of Truth.
"...."
Robin slowly raised both hands to his head and gripped it in frustration.
"There’s... a difference between the Eye of Truth and the Law of Truth itself?
Have I been using my power wrong this entire ti?!"
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