Chapter 112: Chapter: 112 Celestials, Demons and Humans. [4]

Robwin took a slow breath, thinking carefully, as if he were trying to remember every small detail from the old records.

After a moment he spoke, his voice calm but still carrying a tiny hint of doubt.

“Not necessarily so,” he said again.

He kept his eyes lowered for a second, then continued.

“It depends on enlightenment… on how deeply someone can understand the heavens and the laws that shape the world.”

“If a person reaches that level of understanding, then as time goes on, they might reach a kind of awakening.”

“And with that awakening, they may learn how to guide emotions… maybe even control them.”

His voice softened at the end, and he looked at Vivian with a slightly unsure expression, almost like someone repeating words that were hard to believe even for himself.

Vivian’s confusion only grew.

He frowned lightly.

“So… does that mean someone in this era could also control emotions if they reach enlightenment?”

Robwin didn’t answer right away.

His eyebrows pulled together as he thought.

The room felt quiet, as if even the air waited for him to speak.

After a few long seconds he said, “I’m… not sure.”

His tone was uncertain, almost careful.

“The ancient texts never said it clearly. They only spoke in simple lines… like hints.”

“They said humans can rise higher than other races, but they never wrote how.”

Vivian fell quiet, his thoughts turning in circles.

The more he replayed Robwin’s words, the less sense they seemed to make.

What did the laws of heaven have to do with emotions?

Why would understanding how the world worked give someone the power to command something as personal as fear, joy, anger, or sorrow?

Wouldn’t it make more sense to study emotions themselves… not the sky above?

The questions pressed against his mind until he couldn’t hold them anymore.

He lifted his head.

“Did any human ever reach that stage?” he asked.

His voice came out a bit sharper than he meant, a small edge of impatience slipping through.

Robwin noticed it, but he didn’t seem bothered.

He took a slow breath, eyes drifting toward the ground as if looking for answers carved into the floor.

Robwin hesitated.

It wasn’t the usual thoughtful pause he often had, this one felt heavier, like he was deciding whether the truth should be spoken at all.

His lips pressed together for a moment, and a faint tension showed in his jaw.

But when his eyes met Vivian’s, the hesitation melted.

Something in Vivian’s eager, searching gaze pushed the answer out of him.

“There was,” Robwin said quietly.

Vivian’s breath caught.

His eyes went wide for a moment, but the shock quickly shifted into a sharp, focused seriousness… mixed with an excitement he couldn’t hide.

“Who?” he asked at once.

The word jumped out of him before he could soften it.

Robwin let out a long sigh, the kind that came from old memories and old warnings.

His gaze turned distant for a heartbeat, then settled back on Vivian.

“Have you ever heard,” he said slowly, “of a god called the Master of All?”

Vivian’s frown deepened.

The name stirred nothing in his memory, not from his old world, not from his book, not from anything he had studied here.

His own writing felt useless now; that world he created didn’t hold even a hint of this “Master of All.”

Thinking about those empty pages wouldn’t help him now.

“Who was he?” Vivian asked, leaning in without noticing.

“Was he a celestial? A demon? One of their gods?”

Robwin didn’t answer right away.

He let out a long, tired sigh, the kind that said he was crossing a line he probably shouldn’t.

For a second he even looked like he regretted speaking at all.

“I shouldn’t say this,” he murmured.

“But since we’ve come this far… we might as well finish the story.”

He drew in a deep breath.

As he let it out, the hesitation in his voice faded completely, replaced by a calm, steady certainty.

“He was a human,” Robwin said.

“And not just any human. He was the strongest being… dead or alive… to ever exist in this world.”

The words felt heavy, as if the room itself grew still just to hear them.

Vivian’s breath quickened.

“Strongest?” he repeated, his voice rising without him meaning it to.

“So… does that mean he could control every emotion?”

Robwin gave a slow nod.

“Yes. He could. Every single one.”

His tone stayed calm, but there was a quiet awe beneath it.

“And he did it before he even reached twenty-five.”

Vivian’s eyes widened so much they almost hurt.

Excitement rushed through him like a spark jumping into dry grass.

Robwin continued, his voice steady now that he had finally chosen to speak.

“But he died soon after. His life was short. Too short for someone like him.”

He looked down for a moment before lifting his gaze again.

“People called him the Master of All because he could do anything. Not as a title he chose… but because his followers gave it to him.”

Robwin’s tone softened as he went on.

“He was a legendary archer. A master swordsman. Any weapon he touched became stronger in his hands.”

“His skill with them was so perfect it felt unreal. Some said the weapons obeyed him as if they were alive.”

He let out a slow breath.

“His mastery was unmatched… not because the weapons made him strong, but because he carried a heart that could command every emotion without losing himself.”

Vivian listened closely, and the more Robwin spoke, the more he felt two things mixing in the older man’s voice, a quiet, buried hatred… and a respect so deep it almost hurt to hear.

It was strange, hearing both emotions woven together like that, but it told him one thing clearly:

This story mattered to Robwin. Far more than he usually let on.

Vivian waited until Robwin paused for breath before asking softly, “Sir Robwin… you said he was a god, right?”

Robwin let out a small exhale.

“Yes,” he said. “He was a god. A human god.”

The way he said it carried both sadness and admiration.

“He was worshipped as one after he defeated the strongest demon god in all recorded history… the Demon God of Pride.”

Vivian felt his spine straighten.

Pride, the one emotion that burned hotter than most.

For a moment he tried to imagine that battle, but his mind kept falling short.

Robwin went on, his voice calmer but still laced with that old emotional weight.

“The Demon God of Pride forgot his role as a balancer. Instead of guarding his emotion, he wanted to conquer every realm. Humans were the easiest target, so he started with them.”

His eyes softened with something like regret.

“At that time, no celestial, no demon, no ancient guardian could stand against him. His pride had grown too strong… too sharp.”

Robwin’s voice lowered.

“The Celestial God of Mercy was the only one who tried to stop him. She trapped him for a short time… but the price was half her life span.”

Vivian’s heart tightened. “Half…?”

Robwin nodded slowly.

“In exchange, she bought thirty years of peace. Thirty years where humans could breathe while she held him at bay.”

He looked down at his hands, his expression darkening for a moment.

“Those thirty years,” he said, “were the years the Master of All was born.”

Vivian couldn’t help the small gasp that slipped out.

The timing sounded almost unreal, the kind of story told to children before sleep, where fate lines up so perfectly that the hero is born just when the world needs him most.

But this wasn’t a gentle tale.

Nothing in Robwin’s voice hinted at comfort.

So Vivian stayed silent, waiting, letting the story carry him.

Robwin continued with a slow, steady breath.

“He was a kind man,” he said.

“Kind in a way that felt rare even in those days. People started calling him another name… ’the Ideal Man.’

The gods, both celestial and demon, used to wonder what a man could ever do.

He showed them exactly what a man could do.”

There was no pride in Robwin’s tone, only a tired sort of respect, the kind that came from knowing a legendary figure had walked the same land he stood on.

“He grew up in a simple family,” Robwin said.

“Nothing special about them. He learned the basic things any child learns.”

“But when he held a weapon… everything changed. No one could match him. Not his teachers. Not warriors. Not even the old masters of that age.”

Robwin paused for a moment, letting the weight of those words sink in.

His eyes grew distant again, as if seeing scenes long lost to time.

“Years passed,” he went on, “and the Demon God of Pride finally broke free. When he awakened, the first thing he saw was a man standing in front of him.”

Vivian pictured it, a god rising from imprisonment, expecting an army, a celestial, a rival deity… and instead seeing a young man.

Robwin’s voice lowered, almost as if he could hear the memory echoing.

“The man stared at him with calm eyes. Eyes as clear as a child’s. When the Demon God saw those eyes, he knew it right away… there was nothing he could do.”

He shook his head slightly.

“But he was the God of Pride. Running wasn’t something he could even think about.”

Robwin let out a breath, slow and heavy. “So he fought… and he died.”

The words hung in the air like falling ash, soft, quiet, and impossible to ignore.

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