Chapter 1620: The Supreme Sword
"Bring him in, quickly!" Hedrick’s voice boomed with such force that the great hall itself seemed to tremble at his command.
The woman gave a sharp nod. "Understood." She pivoted on her heel and hurried out, leaving the heavy doors ajar behind her.
This was the very first time in over eighty long years that a Shadow Sword had made direct contact with them. Hedrick, seizing the moment, had already scattered his men, guards, and personal attendants in every direction, all ordered to hunt down anyone who could utter even a single word about the elusive Shadow Swords.
"I shall take my leave, Your Majesty." The head of intelligence began to step backward cautiously, his composure cracking, his position becoming perilously weaker by the second.
"Stand your ground!" Hedrick barked, thrusting a finger toward him while releasing the full weight of his aura. "You will not slip away so easily."
"...!!!" The intelligence chief froze instantly, one leg stuck forward, the other bracing behind him, terrified that the smallest movement might provoke Hedrick’s wrath further.
Step... Step...
The echo of measured footsteps filled the chamber. It was the return of Lord Hedrick’s personal aide, moving with deliberate calm to shut the towering doors once more.
But when the spymaster’s gaze shifted instinctively toward the entrance, his blood ran cold. Someone else was there. A figure had silently entered, not only crossing the threshold unnoticed but already advancing halfway toward the throne itself.
It was a young man. Long black hair framed his face, and his eyes—black as pitch, as the kind of moonless night that devoured all light—bore no flicker of life, His expression was empty, unreadable, impossible to discern whether he thought or felt anything at all.
A jet-black armor clung to his frame, so dark it seemed to consume the light that touched it, its details erased by sheer void. Draped across his back hung a heavy black cloak, falling broadly across his shoulders and arms, obscuring even the simple lines of his body. His every movement carried the illusion that he was not a man but a fragment of the night itself, a shard of darkness slowly advancing into the heart of the hall.
Even his aura was terrifying—so thoroughly concealed beneath veils of secrecy that not even Hedrick, a world cataclysm with refined perception, could pierce it. To look at him was to feel as though the unknown itself had taken shape.
"..." Hedrick narrowed his eyes, frowning slightly. "Who are you? You are not the Shadow Sword who delivered me the message."
"I offer greetings to Lord Hedrick." The young man halted at a respectful distance, raising his head to meet the throne with solemn dignity. "My name is Theo. I am the Supreme Sword, head of the Shadow Swords organization... and the adopted son of Lord Robin Burton."
"The head of the Shadow Swords... and Robin’s adopted heir?" Hedrick leaned back a fraction, then slowly lowered himself onto his throne. "So matters are truly this dire?"
"What are you doing, fool? Do you not realize before whom you stand? Kneel this instant!" The intelligence chief, seizing a chance to assert himself, rushed several steps toward Theo and thrust out his hand, trying to force him into submission.
Theo merely turned his gaze upon him.
"...Kkhh!!" The The head of intelligence stumbled to a halt, his body locking in place once more.
It was as if the very air collapsed in around him. The ground beneath his feet vanished into an endless abyss of shadow. And those eyes—those fathomless, obsidian eyes—swirled with unseen vortices, as though they might drag his very soul screaming from his body.
Could he move forward still? Perhaps, yes. His cultivation told him it was possible. But deep within, a primal voice shrieked, commanding him not to try.
After that fleeting exchange, which had lasted no more than the blink of an eye, Theo steadied his gaze forward once more, his voice calm yet unwavering.
"We, the sons of Lord Robin, live by a law that binds us all—we do not kneel to anyone, no matter their title or throne. I ask Lord Hedrick to understand this principle."
"...." A heavy breath escaped Hedrick. The boy had only just stepped into his hall, yet already, this was the second time Theo deliberately implied that Robin stood on equal footing with him.
But in truth, Hedrick had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who had extended the hand of partnership all those years ago, and as long as they called one another partners, then whether he liked it or not, they stood as equals.
"Forget the matter." Hedrick waved a hand, though his expression betrayed the storm beneath. "Tell me, then—what brings the master of the Shadow Swords to me in person?"
Theo clasped one hand behind his back, the other resting loosely at his side. His expression remained utterly still, but the words he chose carried weight, every syllable like a stone dropped into still waters.
"Then allow me to ask first, Your Majesty. Decades ago, we delivered to you extensive and carefully prepared intelligence. Why, after all this time, have you yet to act on it?"
"Your intelligence was incomplete," Hedrick shot back, his brows furrowing deeper. His voice sharpened, carrying frustration with each word. "What you gave us was nothing more than a fragment, a loose thread. I was forced to dispatch my intelligence apparatus to unravel it, and such matters require time—far more time than you seem to appreciate."
"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Theo answered, his tone as sharp as tempered steel, "that was not diligence—it was negligence. Your agents did not tug on the threads we handed them; they cast them aside as worthless and began their search from nothing, as if our words meant nothing. It was clear they placed no trust whatsoever in our source. And though we guided them, propped them up step after step along their fumbling path, we have seen no decisive movement, no practical progress from your side. So I must ask plainly—what, exactly, is happening here?"
"Guided us? Supported us? What nonsense are you spitting out?!" the intelligence chief burst forward, his face reddening, his voice ringing with indignant fury. He spun to face Hedrick, desperate for approval. "This is the first time I have even laid eyes on this man! I have never, ever had dealings with these so-called Shadow Swords!"
Theo did not shift, not even to look at him. His words flowed cold, heavy, as if carved into the air itself.
"And who do you think it was that leaked the information on planet Faro-9 into your hands? Do you truly believe it came from a random child idly kicking a ball in the dust? Who do you think it was that drew your men deep into the cavern networks of planet Kirtan—do you still tell yourself those were specters? Who do you think struck your vessel near the Autumn Nebula, dragging it into the asteroid belt—was it truly pirates, in your mind? Such foolishness. Every single advancement you managed to stumble upon in the past forty years was not of your doing—it was prepared, orchestrated, placed in your path by us. And we only did so after losing all patience in your incompetence for the first forty years."
"You...!!" The chief of intelligence roared, but the words turned to ash in his throat. His mind froze, struck dumb. How? How could this stranger know such exact details about the missions, the disasters, the secrets of those two worlds? His tongue trembled, yet no explanation would form.
"Enough." Hedrick lifted his hand, silencing his subordinate with the gesture alone. A weary sigh followed. "Enough. Stand down."
Then, lowering his head slightly, Hedrick let his crimson eyes peer at Theo from beneath strands of his hair, as if trying to pierce through him. His voice rumbled with suspicion.
"Tell me—was it Robin who sent you today? Did he openly declare to you that we are partners?"
"...No, Your Majesty, he does not even know that I am here," Theo answered, his tone controlled, but the faintest ripple disturbed his composure when the word partner struck his ears. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Hedrick’s keen eyes caught it at once. That word—"partner"—had never been uttered by Robin, never hinted at in any of his instructions. Not once.
"He... is occupied with matters far greater, matters that demand his full attention."
"Oh?" Hedrick leaned back on his throne, lips curving into a cold half-smile. "So you act behind his back? And why is that? Could it be because he does not want you to aid me? Perhaps he wishes to see me crushed into the dirt, so that he might seize Verilion for himself with those glorious crimson legions of his. Or perhaps... perhaps he simply wants everything wiped away, just to keep me from laying my hands on that fourth-tier Planetary Displacement Gear he guards so jealously. Tell me, young shadow—what if you, without even realizing it, are undermining his grand designs?"