"....." Robin's expression twisted instantly, his jaw tightening as frustration surged through him. He sprang to his feet, spun toward the nearest purple bubble, and kicked it with all his strength. "Damn it!!"
The bubble rippled violently but held firm. He delivered a second kick -"Damn it!"— and then a third -"Damn it!!"- before turning back, pointing at Aro's smiling face on the screen. "Look at that smugness!!"
Neri glanced first at Aro's image, then back at Robin. "...It is a ridiculously smug smile, I admit, but did he actually say anything wrong?"
"He's an arrogant, pompous bastard, just like Caesar," Robin spat out. "Both of them expanded irrationally, recklessly even, until they provoked and stirred up an entire Millennial Empire." He spread his hands in exasperation. "But Caesar learned from the swamp Aro fell into. He asked for permission first. This one, on the other hand, throws himself headfirst into chaos and only afterward asks to be rescued!"
Robin kicked the bubble again, sending it wobbling. "That bastard has the audacity to talk to me about victory! The truth behind his so-called 'victory' is painfully clear in every word he writes: planetary arrays damaged, the Pearls he possessed drained almost completely, and the Wings themselves have lost confidence in him. He is inching closer to defeat, yet he dares to flaunt that insufferable, smug smile directly at me!!"
"I don't think your anger at him makes any sense," Neri said, stepping closer to Robin. "He is expanding for your benefit, and this entire war is being waged on your behalf. I don't believe blaming him-or blaming Caesar, or even your own followers under such circumstances-will produce anything positive. You must support them first, and only then, after victory, can you reprimand them... assuming the thrill of triumph doesn't make you forget all else."
"...." Robin took a deep breath, calming slightly, and began massaging the space between his eyebrows.
He knew both empires would encounter serious problems without his direct support-and indeed, that had already happened-but the scale was far greater than he had anticipated. Each one demanding 20-30 billion Pearls at least? Madness!!
Of course, he could refuse, and the war would continue regardless. Even if he withheld any financial aid from the Shadow Swords due to the Syndicate's restrictions, the Academy still existed-the Academy that supplied all of his empires with hundreds of millions of Pearls each year.
Every single year, it provided funds equivalent to the contents of the treasuries of Centennial Empires!!
But as everyone wisely said, this was not the time to teach hard lessons. Only about three centuries remained. This was no moment to accumulate losses, or to gamble recklessly with what little leverage remained.
"Tsk-show me another message," Robin said sharply, waving his hand while turning his back on the small sapling at his side.
"Understood!" Timari accepted the command instantly. "Here's the next message. It's from: the Boogeyman's Fist."
"....." Hearing the name and having already received messages from Caesar and Aro- Robin felt a chill of recognition. He had a distinct sense that he knew who this person was...
"Oh, for hell's sake-is this mule going to ask for Pearls too? Has everyone completely lost their minds?!" Robin turned quickly, only to see Holak grinning widely at him from the screen.
Then the image froze completely. The message had ended. "...." Near the end, Robin's initial anger had cooled. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, but the heat in his mind had faded somewhat. Holak's request was surprisingly logical for someone of his personality. The only thing that truly confirmed that this was indeed Holak, in all his stubbornness and audacity, was his insistence on attacking and raiding all the neighboring sectors! Yet the refusals from Kristan and Emily were equally understandable. Robin himself had been deeply involved in resolving the crisis of producing high-tier epic equipment before. He knew intimately the enormous amount of resources and the staggering costs required to manufacture such items- especially when the design was properly constructed and fused with laws from core paths. A hundred million Pearls for a single set consisting of reinforced body armor and a high-level epic weapon was by no means an excessive price. In fact, it was the cost after careful modifications had been made to simplify the production process and lower the expense as much as possible. There were virtually no such sets outside the control of the planetary emperors of the Millennial Empire. Elsewhere, they were reserved exclusively for the great powers within the Behemoth galaxies. These armors were a mark of those within the Dominant tier-a symbol of status, authority, and extreme capability. Giving such gear to individuals at the level of a single combat. emperor was sheer waste, and a joke that was decidedly not funny! All five Crucibles of Greed were primarily dedicated to producing Gen-4 Note fleets. Not a single one of them could be halted for any reason, no matter the orders. Nota fleets were the backbone of war-they were what would ultimately secure victory in the ongoing battles across the starfields. Meanwhile, the manual shipbuilding arsenal was expanding daily. New construction technologies were continuously integrated, and fresh labor was constantly added. The facilities had not been neglected; they produced a full Nota fleet every year. Additionally, they manufactured the Shadow Swords' phantom vessels-crafted in extremely limited numbers, with highly specialized specifications that allowed them to infiltrate areas that would normally be inaccessible. So should they halt the production of Note fleets or phantom vessels just to fabricate Royal Guards craft? That was the question. Holak's request, though entirely reasonable in terms of protecting the lives of the Imperial Guardians, was, in truth, far more challenging than the demands Caesar or Aro had ever made.
