If You Cannot Be Certain, Trust No One
"I beg you to grant me death."
Elder Wildflower bowed, the line of his body so exact it might have been painted.
Na Wangrang clutched his pounding head and waved him off.
"People get it wrong sometimes. It's fine. I'm... used to it."
He knew perfectly well how he looked to the world: slender, small, pretty, and with a voice gone husky. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, they guessed his gender wrong. The misery of being turned away at the door of the men's bath still came hunting him in dreams. Undeniable proof swung free enough down below, but he could hardly go around uncovered just to put a stop to the confusion.
In all his life, Dan Chuyeon was the only one who had known at a glance. That was how they had become friends.
"Even so, to fail to recognize the king's own sex—this is a wrong that can only be answered with death."
"That's an order, so don't. Get up and sit down while you're at it."
"Yes, sir."
The moment the word order was attached, Elder Wildflower hurried to the sofa and sat. Not a trace remained of the face that had been crumpling toward tears a moment before.
Is he shameless, or has he actually gone senile?
There was no telling where the old man's thoughts would leap next. Wangrang cleared his throat and introduced himself.
"A little late, but hello. My name is Na Wangrang."
"The honor is mine. This humble one is called the blue wildflower of the plain."
The introductions passed back and forth, and silence followed them. Cold sweat soaked the back of Wangrang's shirt.
Now what?
Meeting an elder so quickly had been a good thing. He had simply never decided what he was supposed to do once they met.
Uh... should I go to the werewolves?
His mother had once hinted at a village of werewolves. Was he meant to rule there as king? He didn't want that. And yet that was exactly the sort of thing a king's role was.
"Your Majesty."
"Yes?"
"You seem heavy with thought."
Elder Wildflower's eyes looked straight into his. Wangrang swallowed.
Clear, cool eyes. An old man's gaze with not one speck of doubt in its own conviction.
"Your Majesty. There is no need to think. Do not brood. Act on whatever comes to you. This wolf of mine will always follow the king's will."
"...What does that mean?"
"Ho ho. It means that if the throne sits too heavily on you, you need not take it."
"......!"
He had struck the heart of it. Wangrang composed his face.
"I can't. I'm the one who said I would. I won't run from it anymore."
"If that is the king's thought, then I will follow it with everything I have. Have you some vision of your own, apart from that?"
"......"
Wangrang went mute as a man with honey in his mouth. Elder Wildflower only laughed, easy and untroubled.
What is with this old man?
Is he even the same person as a minute ago?
There was a bone in every sentence, as if Wangrang's clumsy thoughts lay open in the palm of his hand. He could no longer meet those eyes straight on.
"...I'm sorry."
An empty apology was all he had to give, and he felt wretched for it. Elder Wildflower smiled with a grandfather's kindness.
"Your Majesty."
He sank to one knee and met Wangrang's eyes again.
"Do not let the throne burden you. That you were born to us as king is already enough for the clan. There is no need to bind yourself in responsibility, or in duty."
"But the legend says the king brings prosperity to the werewolves. That's my role. How am I supposed to turn my back on it?"
"So the legend is written. It says the king brings prosperity. It was never handed down how."
"Which is why it remains a legend, I suppose."
"But Your Majesty, the legend is already fulfilled by your existence alone. If you merely breathe and go on living, we will prosper. So pay the throne no mind."
Conviction lay in Elder Wildflower's voice, the kind that moves a person—a faith rooted so deep it felt obvious, absolute, a thing that must come to pass. Wangrang's chest grew tight.
"...Thank you. I feel a little steadier because of you."
"To hear thanks from the king. That is the glory of three lifetimes."
Tears welled in the old man's eyes. Wangrang caught his hand and held it hard.
"Elder, if I've said I'll be king, I want to see it through to the end. What am I supposed to do?"
"The first thing..."
Elder Wildflower's gaze slid toward the trio.
"...is to gather the clan scattered across Korea."
"Understood."
Wangrang turned the order on the three.
"Gather them. Every werewolf."
"Understood!"
All three answered at once, went straight out the door, and vanished. Elder Wildflower opened a window and stepped out after them.
"I will carry the king's will to my fellow elders. So for today, rest easy, and do not worry."
He gave a short bow, kicked off, and was gone.
"Long day."
"Yeah."
Dan Chuyeon slung an arm around Wangrang's shoulders.
"Think you can do it?"
"Failing's the one thing I'm not sure I can do."
Wangrang grinned, all confidence.
"I said I would. So that's that."
"Must be nice, keeping it that simple."
Chuyeon found himself looking forward to this friend, who had grown somewhere along the way. What kind of king would he become? Nature, which had always given Chuyeon the answer, stayed quiet—as if to say that watching would be his own part to play.
Peril, sprinting on the king's command, was caught almost at once by the Elder Wildflower who came after him.
"Eep—?! E-Elder?!"
"Quiet, you brat."
Elder Wildflower growled. Peril clapped both hands over his mouth and sealed it shut like a clam.
Then the elder let go of the scruff of his neck, and Peril flopped onto the rooftop in an undignified heap.
"Speak."
"A-about what, exactly...?"
"Everything you know."
Elder Wildflower's face was cold past all measure. Not a shred remained of the joy with which he had received his king, and Peril was afraid, because that mood had turned vicious for reasons he could not see. Not wanting to die, he set his mouth running at once.
Thud!
"Ghk—!"
When the story was finished, Elder Wildflower kicked him. Peril flew the gap between the buildings, struck a water tank, and went down.
"E-Elder..."
"Do you understand the crime you have committed?"
Killing intent.
Decades of it, honed on the open plain, crushed down on Peril until his lungs heaved as if begging for air.
"I—I'm sorr—"
"I will let it pass that you never announced the king's existence. The motive, I can understand. I will even let it pass that the three of you raised holy hell. In the end, it benefited the king."
But—
"You should have known everything around the king, down to the last detail!"
He had understood it the instant he set foot inside. That place was a demon realm. A slaughterhouse, where monsters lurked in every corner who could tear the likes of him apart without the slightest effort.
Nothing but a wall. Beyond that needless wall waited a blade sunk in despair—a blade that would drag you to the ocean floor if you so much as drew near. And beneath that deep, a devil crouched.
In another room lay a vast evil, steeped in vengeance and grief. An evil that roared.
And the king's dear friend. Dan Chuyeon.
The first time Elder Wildflower looked at him, he thought his mind would leave him. The boy was grassland. He was a tree. He was the sea, and he was a cloud adrift. How could a human be such a thing? How could that worthless little body hold nature inside it?
"You fucking son of a bitch. Are those eyes just for show? You've watched the king all this time, and you still can't tell what's dangerous?!"
Elder Wildflower's instincts were good. The best among the werewolves, even—good enough, perhaps, to stand beside the chairman of Korea's Hero Association. He had surrendered a piece of reason to drive instinct as far as it would go, and sometimes that instinct showed him what others could not see.
He saw flame. His whole body felt as if it had caught fire. A god of fire stood there.
He saw Heaven. Lonely, and absolute.
He saw Life. The other face of nature. A power that kept all things alive.
"E-Elder, what in the world did you sense...?"
"Nothing the likes of you could imagine."
Terror flooded his face. He dragged a nail across his own wrist. The artery burst, and blood poured out in a flood, and only when death drew near could Elder Wildflower keep from going mad. Only then could he recall, whole, the thing he had seen.
A shadow.
Wearing a mask.
Just a human.
Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human—
HUMAAAAAAN!!!
Crack.
"Elder?!"
"Khuk—! Khuk—!"
Elder Wildflower had wrenched his wrist until the bone gave. Pain snapped his mind clear.
"W-why would you do that all of a sudden?! A hospital—quickly!"
⟨ Reign of the Lofty Summit! ⟩
Peril froze at the sound of his true name.
"Listen well. The king is not safe. We must protect him."
Elder Wildflower wrung out what clarity he had left.
"Gather every one of the clan in Korea. Build the king the barest minimum of a safeguard! After that, go to the elders I am close with. Tell them where the king is, and that he exists. Summon them!"
"Why not the other elders...?"
"There are malcontents nursing foolish thoughts. They must not learn of the king."
With his good hand he seized Peril by the collar.
"Get your head on straight. This world is not safe. Danger is everywhere you look—and around the king, it is worse!"
"...What would you have me do?"
"Protect the king. Until everything is safe."
"And how are we to come by that safety? His Majesty values his friend above all else..."
"Whatever the danger, the king's will comes first."
But he was to remember this.
"You understand?"
"I do. Now you may pass out."
"Yes..."
He crumpled, and Peril caught him as he fell. Looking at that face gone pale, Peril clenched his teeth, then carried Elder Wildflower to a nearby hospital.
Where they had been, a pool of the elder's blood remained.
Over the pool, the moon was rising.