Chapter 1574: Master-student meeting
"...Get up and stop humiliating yourself further." Robin gave Jabba a light smack on the back of the head, not out of anger but out of blunt familiarity.
"..Hah?" Jabba froze, stunned not only by those unexpected words but also by the almost playful strike. "You... you’re not furious with me?"
"I certainly have reasons to be angry with you, but not for the things you’re imagining. And no—I don’t want to kill you." Robin walked away a few steps, lowering himself to sit upon the narrow stone ledge that jutted from the enormous cave wall. He leaned his back against the cold rock, posture relaxed, mirroring Jabba’s own. "Didn’t you sense even the faintest ripple of time’s current in that strange state you were trapped in?"
"The... flow of time? My state?" Jabba muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground. His mind raced at full throttle, thoughts flashing and colliding so violently it felt as if his skull might burst into flames. Then, almost reluctantly, he raised his head, disbelief written across his face. "Wait... what year is it now?!"
"...." Robin slowly turned toward him, a quiet, satisfied smile curving his lips. He nodded several times, each motion deliberate. "No wonder I chose you as my disciple. You’re sharp, Jabba... reckless and hot-headed like your master at times, yes, but undeniably sharp." His eyes drifted forward again, voice carrying a subtle weight. "Four centuries have passed since the battle against the Great Serpent Empire."
"Centuries? Four whole centuries?!" Jabba jerked upright, every muscle tense. From Robin’s tone he had suspected that time had passed—perhaps months, even years—but never such an unfathomable span. "...What in the world happened?"
"You succeeded in activating the grand array you forged, the one you bound to the very blood of the Great Serpent Empire’s soldiers. You triggered it, detonating them all, ending the war in a storm of fire and devastation." Robin spoke as though he were still standing on that battlefield, as though he could feel each thunderous blast reverberating through his bones, as though the ocean of molten lava still burned in his vision.
Then he turned back with a faint smile. "But at the very same moment, the trap buried deep in your soul domain was triggered. It wasn’t, however, the lethal snare you believed it to be. Instead, it was something more insidious—something called the Curse of Eternal Stillness. That curse locked your body into a petrified state, freezing you for four full centuries... until the moment I obtained the key meant to release you."
"The array... it actually worked?!" Jabba’s jaw slackened. He immediately looked down, inspecting his own frame with eyes glowing bright green, testing his very existence. Then, a weary smile spread across his face. He gave a small nod. "Of course it worked. It had to work. After all, I was the one who designed it."
"How humble of you." Robin chuckled, the sound echoing lightly in the cavern.
"I learned both innovation and humility from the greatest master in the field." Jabba’s smile carried a trace of pride, though it faltered. He glanced sideways toward Robin. "...I’m sorry about what I said regarding Lady Mila, back then— I mean, what I said four centuries ago."
As soon as the words left his lips, Jabba wanted desperately to claw them back. After all this time, perhaps Robin had long since forgotten that bitter exchange. Why—why had he brought it up again?!
"...I understand." Robin nodded slowly, still facing forward. "I know you weren’t pretending that day. You spoke straight from your heart. Why should the giant race be condemned to death for a woman I never loved? Wasn’t that more or less what you said?" He shrugged, dismissing the weight. "I don’t blame you. Had I been in your shoes, I might have been consumed by rage as well and spoken foolish words."
At last, he turned toward Jabba, his eyes calm. "If you feel the need to apologize for something, perhaps begin with severing our master–disciple bond just because I refused to walk the path you wanted me to."
"Maybe if you had told me your intentions—if you had let me in on your plan—I could’ve helped you more effectively!!" Jabba’s voice rose with raw frustration, echoing off the cave walls.
"Counsel is valuable, without doubt..." Robin tilted his head, tone patient, thoughtful. "But not in every circumstance. Not when the conversation concerns the fate of someone’s own people. At that point, either I would be mocking myself, or I would be trapping that person in an impossible dilemma."
"So your great answer was to keep fortifying your armies, to wait for Nihari’s people and the invaders to tear each other apart, and then sweep in afterward to crown yourself as the new king? An army, mind you, that you didn’t moved until the very last breath of Pythor’s battle!!" Jabba’s brows furrowed, his words cutting sharp. "Do you even realize how pathetic you looked to me during that time?!"
Yet Robin’s calm remained unshaken. Instead of anger, he allowed a faint smile to play upon his lips. "Look at you now... no longer a boy, but a man forming grand strategies and voicing objections. Heh. Your brilliant master plan was to infiltrate them, plant explosives, and wipe them out in one fell swoop. Cute... but then what?"
"...Did you ever once calculate for the reappearance of that shadow—the very same shadow that tampered with your soul domain and laid a trap for you before? Because it did appear, Jabba. It revealed itself after Pythor and his men perished, and its intent was nothing less than the complete annihilation of Nihari itself. Tell me—how would you have stopped it? What answer would you have given to that kind of calamity?"
"...And what about the countless forces that still remained scattered across Pythor’s other planets, legions that kept waging war against us for many long years even after the so-called end of the Great War? Did you make room in your grand design for them as well? What about all the other empires, those subjugated under the dominion of their overlord, Helen—empires she threatened more than once to hurl into Nihari like a tide of destruction? Were you planning to infiltrate them too, to pretend loyalty and then slaughter them all as well?"
"..." Jabba’s lips trembled. Words hovered on the edge of his tongue, but he swallowed them back down, silence gnawing at him.
"The first army you despised so much, the one you accused me of leaving aside—that very army was the wall that withstood the remnants of the Great Serpent Empire’s forces. It was my men who secured the survivors when everything collapsed, who built new foundations, who raised new cities for those broken peoples. It was that same army that struck fear into Helen’s heart, that made her hesitate, that forced her to abandon the thought of unleashing the empires under her authority upon us once again. After the demon army was annihilated—first by the Serpent Empire, then by your hand—" Robin raised a finger, his voice hard with pride, "—the First, Human, Army stood as my unyielding shield and my decisive sword. They were the force that truly ended the conflict by just being there."
He slapped his thigh with emphasis, the sound cracking through the cavern. "Had my First Army not remained whole, had it crumbled when all else did, then every ounce of sacrifice, every intricate move, everything we had accomplished would have been reduced to ashes. It was only because the First Army endured that Rinara, on that fateful day, saw a bulwark so solid that she dared not unleash her followers. Without them, she would have crushed us outright." His head lifted, gaze sharp. "Yes, it’s true—I had wished for the Great Serpent Empire’s army to collapse with fewer losses, even if it meant the total erasure of Nihari’s races. But tell me, Jabba—what is so wrong with that?"
"...Because of MY choices," Robin’s voice grew heavier, steadier, "the races of Nihari endured. Not one race vanished into extinction. Four centuries have now swept by, and the balance of numbers has begun to return, the old populations slowly reborn under the peace I hammered into place—the peace that was purchased with their blood and their scars." He turned his face toward Jabba, meeting him with unflinching eyes. "If I were to descend into the bustling streets of Nihari’s modern cities today and asked the people: if you could turn back time, would you alter the destiny of your forefathers? Would you return to endless tribal warfare and bloodshed against Helen’s empires, or would you preserve the life you now live? ...How many of them do you think, Jabba, would willingly abandon their peace, their families, their future, just to honor ancestors who would have fallen again regardless?"
Jabba exhaled with a bitter, heavy laugh, "...Unbelievable. You speak as though letting billions of lives perish in cold blood was somehow a mercy, a twisted gift for their own good—and the terrifying thing is that I find myself convinced by you." his voice weighed with resignation. "How do you manage that? How do you bend the truth until even those who oppose you begin to believe? But I cannot refute you... I failed where you triumphed. I realized it when my plan reached its brink of completion—when the truth became undeniable. So in the end, I chose to lend you my support, because your grip over Nihari, harsh as it may be, would still be far better than theirs. I had hoped... foolishly, perhaps, that when you saw the sacrifice of Nihari’s giants, some fragment of mercy might stir within you."
He paused, his throat tightening. Then Jabba lifted his head fully, his green eyes locking on Robin’s. "...Speaking of Nihari’s giants... tell me, after four long centuries, how many of them still draw breath?"