Robin pressed his fingers against the spot between his brows, exhaling slowly.
"This is all very grand, incredibly epic even, but... what’s the point?"
"Don’t worry," Hedrick said, offering a calm, knowing smile.
"I’ll connect the dots for you now."
"Before that turning point in my life—before that mont—I didn’t want anything from the universe except to breathe a little longer, to stay alive just until my fate inevitably caught up with .
When would it happen? I had no idea.
How would it co? Not a clue.
All I knew was that I was growing stronger with every passing century... but for no reason. For nothing at all."
He paused, then continued with greater weight in his voice.
"But after that incident, that brief war... everything changed.
I found sothing I had long been missing: a reason.
I no longer wanted strength for revenge, or as a punishnt to endure.
I wanted to grow stronger for myself, to reclaim aning.
And when I discovered the Verillion Seed, that spark reignited—it gave hope that my revenge wasn’t just possible, it was inevitable.
It was my destiny."
His eyes dimd slightly, as if troubled by an unseen weight.
"But here lies the problem.
All the power I’ve amassed, every armada, every commander, every resource—exists within Mid Sector 101.
Even the Seed itself will ascend into Mid Sector 101 soon.
And that’s the very sa sector where I once made an unbreakable vow... to build a force for Kaylis and defend her domain."
He turned his full gaze to Robin, voice dipping into a low, rhetorical murmur:
"Now tell , Lord Robin—isn’t that the cruelest irony?"
Robin sighed and waved dismissively.
"Please... don’t ask for my opinion on the solution. It’s already written all over your face. You’ve clearly had the plan in your pocket since the beginning."
Hedrick chuckled at the response, leaning back against the cotton-lined seat with the air of a man who had played this conversation out in his mind a thousand tis.
"You’re right, as always. I do have a solution."
He raised a finger, ticking the issues off:
"Two problems, Lord Robin.
One: the relentless pursuit of the Seed in the Young Sector of 101.
Two: the inevitable confrontation with the Radiant Galaxy.
And both problems share the sa radical solution—removing the Galaxy Seed from Young Sector 101 entirely."
"...?" Robin raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
"And how exactly do you propose to do that?
Don’t tell you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say... You’re not seriously talking about the Grade Four Planetary Displacent Gear, are you?"
"That is exactly what I’m talking about." Hedrick nodded slowly, gravely.
"My initial plan, in the event I couldn’t locate a fourth- or fifth-grade Planetary Displacent Gear in ti, was simple: Wait.
Let the planet ascend naturally to the mid Sector 101.
Once it reached that stage, I would use the full strength of my empire and my personal power to shield the Seed and its planet for as long as possible—long enough to find the displacent tool I needed.
And once I had it... I’d relocate the entire Seed to a completely new sector."
He shook his head slowly, jaw tight.
"But that option has been stripped from the table.
The Radiant Galaxy’s veiled hostility has grown louder—too loud to ignore.
They’re unlikely to give even a mont’s window once the Seed reaches the mid-sector.
And based on how fast this war is escalating, the Seed might not even survive long enough to ascend in the first place."
He turned toward the glowing red clouds of dusk, the horizon sared with streaks of fading sunlight.
"The relocation has to happen inside the Young Belt.
Not tomorrow. Not next year.
Today."
Robin’s expression darkened with concern.
He squinted at Hedrick, clearly confused.
"...Do you know sothing I don’t?
I was under the impression that it was flat-out impossible to transfer an entire planet out of its sector using a Fourth Grade Planetary Displacent Gear."
Hedrick waved his hand as if brushing away the notion.
"It’s not impossible.
Difficult? Extrely.
But not beyond reach.
There exists a sixth-grade Planetary Displacent Gear, and with that, it can be done.
It’s been done before—at least once that we know of.
Interas—the only being who ever got his hands on such a tool—managed to relocate not just one, but three Galaxy Seeds in secret.
That act alone cented his position as a Behemoth no one dares to provoke."
"...?!" Robin’s eyes went wide, stunned.
That was the first ti he had ever heard anything of the sort.
"True enough," Hedrick went on, tone even.
"Fourth- and fifth-grade gears cannot achieve inter-sector movent under normal circumstances.
But my situation? It’s far from normal."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly.
"I’ve been preparing for this for a long, long ti.
Since the day I laid eyes on the Verillion Seed, I’ve been gathering everything I’d need to pull this off.
And then, finally, I acquired a very specific device...
a Grade Four Planetary Extremity Gear."
Robin blinked, confused.
"...Planetary Extremity Gear?"
"It’s a unique and rare type of tool—one that’s designed not for everyday use, but for a very specific purpose," Hedrick began, his tone steady and focused.
"A piece of gear that forces a person—or even an object—to operate at their absolute peak. No reservations, no half-asures. If you’re casting a spell while using the Extremity Gear, it doesn’t just amplify your casting—it extracts every ounce of your potential and channels it into that one mont. If you’re attacking, you won’t hold back a single shred of power; every cell, every breath will go into that blow. And most interestingly..."
He paused for effect, his gaze darkening.
"If you apply it to another tool, it forcibly draws out the entirety of that tool’s stored energy. Nothing remains hidden. No restraint is left intact. What erges is a result far beyond normal thresholds—an extre outco, one bordering on the destructive."
"Hmm..." Robin leaned slightly forward, processing the explanation, his eyes narrowing in thought.
"So what you’re planning is to use that Extremity Gear on a Grade Four Planetary Displacent Gear... hoping that, with this fusion, you can force the Planetary Gear to pull off sothing it was never ant to do—move a Galaxy Seed to an entirely different sector."
Hedrick nodded solemnly.
"Exactly. If I had a displacent device of a higher grade—say, Grade Five instead of Four—then I’d be far more confident.
The process would be safer, more stable, and the device itself might even survive the ordeal intact.
But as it stands, no such tool has surfaced—not in black markets, not in hidden vaults, nowhere. And whoever might possess one clearly has no intention of bringing it into the light."
His voice dropped slightly, tinged with quiet frustration.
"So... I must work with what I have. I’ll be using a fourth-grade Planetary Displacent Gear combined with the Extremity Gear.
It’s not ideal, but I’ve calculated the risks.
I’d say there’s a fifty-percent chance of success. Maybe more, if we execute everything perfectly."
"Wait, wait." Robin raised a hand, squinting at Hedrick.
"Did you just say the gear might not survive the process? That it could be destroyed outright?"
"Yes." Hedrick didn’t flinch.
"Both tools—the displacent device and the Extremity Gear—will almost certainly be rendered unusable once the operation is complete.
But for , that’s a sacrifice worth making.
Losing two powerful items in exchange for the salvation of the Galaxy Seed, and a chance at long-term victory? That’s a fair trade."
"A fair price, you say," Robin muttered under his breath, nodding with increasing sarcasm as a flicker of irritation passed over his face.
"Alright, then let hazard another guess. The sector you’re trying to move the Seed into—that would be Mid Sector 100, right?"
Hedrick turned his head slowly, calmly locking eyes with Robin, and then smiled faintly.
"Right on the mark."
Robin let out a dry, hollow chuckle, sowhere between impressed and annoyed.
"So not only have you thought through how to protect the Seed and how to move it, you’ve also roped in your baby sister—who still hasn’t even built her first real domain back then—and convinced her to migrate to the sector right next to yours.
Mid Sector 100. Just to set up an empire there.
No, not just an empire... a stage, a whole battlefield waiting for you on the other side."
He suddenly clapped his hands together, as if struck by another revelation.
"Oh! Let guess again! You were the one who advised her—no, gently persuaded her—to establish several allied factions in the Young Sector 100, all in the na of ’resource flow’ and ’defense capacity,’ right?
Even though you know it’s strategically pointless in the short term?
Because what you really wanted... was a waiting army, a scaffold of ready-made forces to support the Seed the mont it lands, so it doesn’t have to start over from scratch.
Hah! That’s insane.
Brilliant.
But insane."
Hedrick’s smile faded, expression tightening into a quieter, colder neutrality.
"...Is that a problem for you?" he asked, voice calm yet firm.
Robin tilted his head, his smirk turning sly and sharp.
"Tell sothing—does your little sister actually know any of this?"
"No." Hedrick raised his chin with a quiet pride.
"Neither she nor my closest lieutenants know the truth.
They don’t know the full story of how I ca to reside in Sector 101.
They have no idea about my plans, about why I chose to remain so long in a place so dangerous.
No one knows what I truly intend—what my real objective is.
No one... except you."
"..."
Robin’s expression changed imdiately. The smugness, the mischief—it vanished in an instant.
User Comments
0 comments from readers