Inside the vast academic building-
"...I still can't bring myself to believe what we just witnessed," Shaddad murmured, his massive fra leaning against one of the marble pillars as disbelief flickered through his deep voice. "To think that the Centennial Grave Empire an empire that has obsessed every major power across the past few centuries- has truly advanced to beco a millennial empire, and with such apparent ease..." His eyes widened as if still processing the reality before him. "When this news spreads, it's going to shake the entire Mid Sector 99 to its very core. There will be unrest, panic, and endless speculation."
"The Grave Empire wouldn't dare openly declare itself a millennial empire," Morgana replied, exhaling a long breath. Her tone was calm, but there was a glimr of uncertainty behind her words.
Before she t Robin, she wouldn't have cared about any of these political intricacies-titles, empires, or laws of dominion were nothing more than distant noise. But after spending over a hundred years within the academy's walls, she had co to learn much more than she wished, hearing countless
conversations from students-so she listened to willingly, others she couldn't avoid.
"... You're right." Shaddad nodded thoughtfully, his tusks glinting faintly under the corridor's light. "A true millennial empire must have a Monarch as its ruler- or at least a Guardian powerful enough to carry that burden. Anything less would be a farce." He then raised his head toward Morgana, his voice
deepening. "But isn't that an even greater problem? Now, the Grave Empire will attract the attention -and possibly the wrath of the genuine millennial empires more than ever before!"
"His Majesty seems to have his own designs," Morgana murmured, shrugging slightly, though a hint of respect tinged her eyes. "Even though I barely know anything about him... he's definitely not soone ordinary. Every move of his seems to ripple across the sectors like calculated storm."
"...?" Shaddad nodded in quiet agreent and glanced downward, recalling that vivid mory-he had personally seen Robin heal the cosmic elder, a feat thought impossible, and then claim those unimaginable treasures with a calmness that defied comprehension.
"Uhm," Jabba interrupted, snapping his fingers several tis, his tone playfully exasperated. "Hello? Mind catching up so I can worry along with you two? I feel like the side character in my own story here."
"Ha~" Shaddad slapped his thigh and stood, the ground creaking faintly beneath his weight. "Co on, I'll explain everything while you take your first proper bath." Then he stroked his chin theatrically. "The remnants of the master's baths are still there-the remains of the fifth bath, in fact. That should be absolutely perfect for you!"
"...Why does that sound so disgusting?" Jabba muttered, grimacing, then clapped once in defeat. "You know what, fine. The master told to leave my body strengthening to you-so I won't argue." He leaned forward, wrapping one arm around the three heavy wooden boxes, tucking them beneath his elbow, while the other arm held the three thick tal plates. "Alright then, I'm ready."
"Huh? You're really bringing those inside?" Shaddad blinked at him, utterly baffled.
For two whole months, Jabba had carried those items everywhere-when he walked, ate, trained, even when he slept. He would sit on them while eating, and in the bath? He actually balanced them above his head while soaking. Thanks to Morgana's explanations, Jabba had begun to understand what a Master law truly represented, and the re thought that Jabba possessed not one, but three of them, was enough to make his behavior seem increasingly unstable. Jabba feared that if he placed them inside a low-grade spatial ring- Grade 3 or 4 at best-it might be torn apart by their power, or worse, that they themselves could be hard.
And of course, the three wooden boxes were hardly less significant. How could anyone dare to store those black eggs-each capable of erasing entire sectors- inside a cheap, fragile ring?
"Of course I'm bringing them in!!" Jabba shouted defensively, adjusting his grip as he started marching toward the bath chamber. "Co on, lead the way! Do you at least have a new loofah ready?"
bzzzt
At that very instant, a thin rift tore open in space like a shimring wound. Robin's head and both hands erged from the distortion, his expression sharp and irritated. "I've been searching the apartnt, and you're here playing with them? Hand them over!"
Before Jabba could react, Robin snatched the three boxes from beneath his arm with one swift motion. Bam! His other hand ca down on Jabba's head with a solid smack. "Finish reading those plates quickly-and then destroy them. No
excuses.
bzzzt The spatial rift snapped shut again, vanishing without a trace.
"... What just happened?" Morgana gasped, leaping to her feet, her aura flaring slightly. "Why did His Majesty look angry?"
"Ugh..." Jabba groaned, rubbing the spot where Robin had struck him. "He's angry because he sealed the door with a soul-force lock, then had to rush back out imdiately." He sighed, then waved lazily and hugged the three plates closer to his chest with renewed determination. "Co on, little brother, we've got plenty to do!"
"Let's go!!" Shaddad roared enthusiastically, his booming voice echoing down the hall.
Inside the professor's quiet apartnt-
"Hehe..." Robin chuckled softly as he waved his hand, closing the shimring spatial rift that floated before him. The air rippled once, then fell still. A wide, boyish grin spread across his face the kind of smile that belonged not to an emperor or scholar, but to a curious child who had just found a new toy to take
apart.
With a burst of restless energy, he jumped up from the bed and strode toward his desk, moving almost too fast for the eye to follow. The three heavy wooden boxes rested in his arms, glowing faintly with the seal-marks he had placed on them earlier. He set them down one after another, the echo of wood against tal filling the room. Then, with a spark of excitent flashing in his eyes, he opened the first box.
"Wow..." he whispered under his breath, the sound almost reverent.
Inside lay the Eternal Feather - Seraphim.
The quill pen rested there, serene and radiant, as if it were not rely an artifact but a fragnt of divine will itself. Its presence seed to emit a subtle golden glow that brightened the entire room. The light it gave off wasn't harsh or blinding - it was soft, alive, almost holy as though truth, purity, and creation themselves had been condensed into this single form. Robin reached out, his movents slow and cautious, like a priest approaching a sacred relic. His fingertips brushed the quill, and a warmth pulsed through his hand. Lifting it carefully, he examined it from every angle, his lips curling into a wide, foolish grin of awe. The faint golden light reflected in his eyes, making them burn with twin halos of radiance.
Yet despite his brilliance and countless experiences with heavenly relics, he couldn't make sense of the strange, intertwined runes carved along its shaft. They shimred, rearranged, and resisted comprehension - as if mocking the mortal concept of understanding.
Shooo-
With a thought, a large rectangular board made of Treant bark appeared on the desk before him, the natural fibers faintly humming with life. Three small ink bowls materialized beside it - each crafted from different materials and filled with exotic liquids: the first designed to interact with temporal patterns, the second for life patterns, and the third for blood laws. Each bowl shimred under the light differently, like portals to distinct worlds.
Robin eagerly lowered the quill's tip toward the first bowl, ready to test its reaction. But just as the tip hovered above the surface, he froze. "...."
A sudden instinct stopped him. He hesitated, his hand trembling slightly - then
he turned the quill a few degrees to the left, pressing its glowing tip directly
onto the Treant board instead.
He began to sketch - lines and sigils woven from the Law of Ti, each symbol
carrying the weight of cosmic flow. He fully expected the board to shrink, decay, and crumble the usual consequence of manipulating temporal
essence.
Whoooosh!
"...What?" His eyes widened. The shimring, color-shifting liquid inside the quill flowed out smoothly, forming glowing lines across the bark. It looked like living starlight a liquid dream. Yet the board remained perfectly intact. No
withering. No decay.
Only the faintest ripple of aging touched the edges of the drawn symbols before fading away entirely. That minimal effect - the temporary withering followed by stabilization - was exactly what happened when he used the special ti ink he had created himself.
"This can't be..." Robin muttered, disbelief creeping into his tone.
He quickly lifted his hand and drew again, this ti invoking a different formula
- a fragnt of another law, another test. The ink glead with the sa srizing, multi-hued light. Around the new symbols, the Treant bark pulsed gently, as though breathing, alive again for a fleeting mont before being subdued. Once more, the reaction was identical to his own crafted inks. He stared at the quill in silence. The shimring fluid inside it that glowing, color-shifting essence remained untouched, undiminished.
didn't even decrease," he whispered in awe.
Could it be?
Was this quill replicating his own mories of the inks he had used before? If
so, that ant it could recreate any ink formulation he had ever designed -
and perhaps even improve upon them if he imagined a superior version.
And if that were true, it also ant... The ink inside this quill was endless.
Robin's smile widened slowly. The implications were staggering. He would no
longer have to waste entire days brewing inks, collecting rare materials, distilling their essences, and balancing their temporal reactions. Even more he no longer needed to lift his pen from the board every few
strokes to re-dip it. Those constant interruptions had always consud nearly a quarter of his drawing ti, forcing him to painstakingly match line thickness and ink flow when resuming. With this quill, the flow was continuous, perfect,
infinite.
That alone made his work faster, cleaner - but this was beyond efficiency. It was liberation.
And then another realization struck him - this was the sa quill that had
written on its own before, forming words in midair and even attacking Jabba under its own will. The thought sent a chill of fascination through him. Robin leaned back slightly, staring at the quill with that sa wide, excited grin
spreading across his face again - but this ti, it was mixed with awe and
curiosity.
Every curve, every shimr, every mysterious line engraved upon it held
secrets waiting to be uncovered. He could spend months studying it and still only scratch the surface of its mysteries.
"Truly..." he whispered, the golden glow reflecting in his eyes, "it seems the coming days will be far more entertaining than I imagined."
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