Audience with the White King

The problem was the White King.

The guardian deity of the North. The one monster Wilhelm had never managed to kill.

I can handle this.

I shifted my mindset. Change your thinking and the body responds; once the body responds, your bearing changes of its own accord. I had already deceived the Four Pillars. Why should the White King be any different?

The most important thing was not to flinch. If the Heart of the Iron-Blooded Lord held my emotions in check, then Eternal Randolph lent weight to every movement I made. And the knowledge that I could destroy a Mystery at any moment gave me a measure of composure all its own.

The way the Four Pillars had treated me after I destroyed the Imugi's Mystery told me everything I needed to know.

They're wary of me.

Not merely on guard — they were watching me with the full weight of their attention. Destroying a Mystery was something alien even to them. If a Transcendent being could do that, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they reasoned, then surely it could do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠far greater things without hesitation. Perhaps even kill them.

The stronger the monster, the greater the influence its Mystery holds.

Of course, that was only natural. The Mysteries of humans and monsters served entirely different purposes. Just as humans used their names as proof of identity, monsters used their Mysteries as proof of theirs. For a human, a Mystery was merely a mark of station. For a monster, a Mystery was everything.

The very distinction between a Normal Monster and a Boss Monster came down to the presence or absence of a Mystery. Play the game long enough and you inevitably ran into monsters that all looked identical. Yet even among creatures of the same appearance, some were treated as far more dangerous depending on their visual effects — and those effects were more than cosmetic. They were powerful weapons that carried the additional abilities unique to Bosses. Without Mysteries, the vast majority of monsters would be indistinguishable from one another.

It's like starting a fight with one hand already cut off.

That was what stripping a monster of its Mystery meant. Fighting without an arm. The higher the rank, the more powerful the creature, the greater the impact its Mystery carried. If I destroyed the highest-grade Mystery belonging to something on the level of the Four Pillars or the White King, the creature itself might suffer a level-down.

"What an oddly shaped Corpse Crow."

…That was the moment.

In a single instant — without my noticing a thing — the White King stood before me. A half-human, half-beast figure nearly two meters tall, wearing a white tiger's mask. The powerful frame, the white fur, the tail and ears: this was unmistakably the White King.

The one mercy was that he hadn't roared. Cold sweat prickled along my skin, but thankfully that was only my imagination. This place was, without question, a killing ground. Lose focus for even a second and I would die without ever realizing my head had left my shoulders.

And for good reason.

An absurd monster.

…Was his level always this high?

The White King wasn't even a Super Elite Raid Boss. He was something above that — a being of a rank comparable to a Demon King, one without even a proper designated name. The kind of existence gamers simply called a "final boss," or a "Named Boss."

I didn't know the White King's level. There was no information on him anywhere. Wilhelm had failed to subdue him in the first place, after all.

Still, I kept my chin high and met the White King's gaze as he revealed himself.

It works.

The moment our eyes locked, I was certain.

The Hidden Traits are working on him.

I was less shaken than I'd expected. By all rights I should have been completely seen through and beheaded on the spot. The fact that I was still alive meant the Hidden Traits functioned even against the White King. He had failed to read me — and that meant the "thick-skinned" effect of the Hidden Traits was viable here as well.

"…You lack manners, caw."

He had gone beyond mere probing and activated a skill, trying to see through me. It didn't work. The Hidden Traits had neutralized even the White King's abilities.

I twisted my expression into an open display of displeasure, and a spark of interest lit in the White King's eyes. At the same time, the Four Pillars' pupils were trembling violently. A mere Corpse Crow holding its head high before the White King and freely lecturing him on "manners" was clearly more than they could stomach.

"Hmm. He truly is a strange one."

The White King offered his assessment without pretense. A strange one, was I?

That's enough.

A judgment like that was more than favorable. The White King was an unpredictable creature — utterly impossible to read. There was a reason I had spent a full month hunting him. For a being like that to call me "a strange one" was the highest praise he was capable of giving.

"You passed through the Gate of Myth?"

"It was nothing special, caw."

I shrugged as I said it. Of course, it had been anything but nothing. Near the end, I had genuinely thought I was going to die. But there was no need to share that particular detail. If I didn't say it, no one would ever know.

"So there were five trials, not four?"

The White King stroked his chin. He was talking to himself, turning the matter over in his mind. The fourth gate he had abandoned was the Gate of Completion — the stage at which a myth was perfected. The existence of a trial beyond that one was bound to raise questions.

"…How on earth did you clear it?"

The White King could not understand. The Gate of Myth he had challenged had never been designed to be beaten — its difficulty was grotesque. He had completed three stages of trials and been certain: the fourth, Completion, had been impossible from the start. The Tower had arranged it that way.

And yet the Corpse Crow standing before him had surpassed Completion. A fifth stage. Transcendence — or something beyond it entirely.

"Can you tell me what the final trial was?"

"You want me to tell you for free, caw?"

Nothing in this world came free. Why else would the White King have come to meet me? He was a creature utterly detached from worldly affairs —

He's obsessed with the Gate of Myth.

Curiosity about a secret he had never overcome, a secret he hadn't even known existed, had drawn him out. That said, the White King having made it to the third stage was the more impressive feat. I had managed it through tricks that weren't quite tricks; he would have faced the trials as they were.

A real monster.

Fighting ten thousand enemies of equal level, with a devastating new trait added at every stage — clearing three of those stages was only possible because he was the White King.

"What do you want?"

"What if I wanted your remaining fang, caw?"

The instant the words left my mouth —

A violent tremor ran through every one of the Four Pillars. Pure rage. They were staring at me as if they meant to kill me on the spot.

…Had I pushed too hard?

"Hmm. That would be difficult. But how did you know I have only one fang left?"

The White King sounded genuinely troubled. He wore the mask precisely to hide the single remaining fang — the one Wilhelm, the Knight King, had torn out. Aside from Wilhelm and the Four Pillars, no one should have known. How, then, did I?

He must never learn that I was Wilhelm.

I was Randolph. Thoroughly, completely Randolph. Anything less would break the agreement. The White King and the Four Pillars would throw everything they had into killing me this time.

"How could anyone not know, caw?"

As if ignorance itself were the strange part. Better to push hard than offer some half-hearted explanation. Leave it to their imaginations and they would flesh out the details themselves — and in doing so, mistake me for something even more dangerous and formidable than I was.

"Hrm. So the Four Pillars were right to bring you to me."

The White King fixed me with a steady gaze. A being the Four Pillars could not measure. One even his own eyes could not fully grasp. From the moment of his arrival, I had shown no surprise, no wavering, not even a lack of composure. Eyes that seemed to know everything. I had even correctly identified his missing fang. Seeing through the mask was a feat even Medusa could not accomplish.

The one who sees through…

One who had reached the end of the Mythic Trials. Indeed — a being the entire Four Pillars had abandoned trying to understand. Had I startled or reacted when he first appeared, he would have been disappointed. But the Corpse Crow before him showed no such sign. His heartbeat was calm and still; there was no tremor in his pupils or his skin.

To look any deeper, I would need to take my true form.

The White King considered it briefly. Transforming into his true body and using a skill would let him peer into deeper abysses still — enough to determine whether what blocked his mana was the creature's rank itself, or something else entirely.

But he shook his head. The remark about manners meant the crow had already read even the subtle skill he had used. This Corpse Crow possessed the talent to detect skill activation.

And more than that —

He destroyed a Mystery. The Gate of Mystery must have granted him the authority to destroy Mysteries outright.

The White King already knew the Corpse Crow had destroyed the Imugi's Mystery. He could not have possessed such a power from the beginning. He must have obtained it from the Gate of Mystery — which meant the Tower itself had recognized this Corpse Crow as a King of Mysteries.

And what did that mean?

That his species rank is higher than even mine.

A Mystery was also an index of a species' grade. In other words, this Corpse Crow's racial value exceeded his own — exceeded anyone's. A high racial value was not the same thing as raw strength, but anyone who had completed the final Mythic Trial was not a creature to be taken lightly.

The White King felt an intensely powerful emotion welling up in his chest.

…Competitive spirit.

That was it. A competitive fire. A being who had broken the trial he himself had failed to obtain, failed to achieve — standing before him now, scattering fighting spirit without a scratch. His body grew hot.

But competitive spirit was not the only thing he felt.

My own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Mystery is afraid of him as well.

The White King was in perfect unity with his Mystery — a connection of an entirely different order from other monsters, as intimate as skin, as the very tissue of skin. And yet the Mystery he carried was rigid with alarm at the sight of this Corpse Crow, as if terrified by the appearance of a being capable of destroying it.

This was a first.

Truly fascinating.

It was time to acknowledge it. The Corpse Crow before him was, without question, a being that possessed something real.

"What is your name?"

The White King asked for my name. Grasping the intent behind the question, I clenched a fist inwardly and answered.

"Randolph, caw."

"I heard you were looking for me. Why?"

"For the same reason you are here, caw."

"You mean the reason I am in Kramdel?"

"That's right, caw."

I was certain. The White King had no interest in Kramdel. No — he was detached from worldly affairs entirely. Whether Kramdel fell or stood, he did not care. He only pretended to care for the sake of the Four Pillars who trusted and followed him.

And yet that same White King was here in Kramdel now.

At last, he nodded.

"…The Thirty-Third Star. So you came to investigate it as well."

"Correct, caw."

"But authority over the Stars belongs solely to the Star Guardians. Even I have no right to interfere with them."

Star Guardians — the term for the powerful monsters that protected the Stars. Even the mighty White King, it seemed, was completely cut off from them. The fact that he could not intervene even within Kramdel made that clear. As I had seen at Kramdel's entrance, they were treated as something entirely different from ordinary monsters.

The White King spoke again.

"Are you saying you know exactly what the Star Guardians are searching for?"

"I do, caw."

I alone could know for certain. Dramut was here, after all. And perhaps — just perhaps — the guardians of the five Stars Wilhelm had once held might be here as well.

"That place is sealed by a Unique-grade Mystery. Even so?"

"An easy matter, caw."

Sealed by a Mystery. So that was why the White King had tried to investigate and given up. All the better for me.

"…Very well. Then I shall temporarily grant you the seat of the Fifth Lord. It will make operating within Kramdel considerably more convenient."

"White King…!"

The Four Pillars shot to their feet in shock. The White King merely shrugged and asked,

"I can hardly give him my own seat, can I?"

"Even so — the position of a Lord, to some creature we've only just met? Absolutely not!"

Dae-to-ryong raised his voice. I opened my mouth in a tone that made it clear I was no more pleased than he was.

"Why should I serve under you, caw?"

"Because I cannot simply let a being as dangerous as you walk free."

As if to forestall any misunderstanding, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the White King continued.

"And a Lord's seat is not a position beneath me — it is a status equal to my own. They simply choose to show me respect. In practice, it is the Lords who lead Kramdel, not I."

Equal status. But what concerned me more was the phrase about not letting me go. A being like me, whose allegiance as ally or enemy was unknown — if he did not want a fight, he would have to pin a title on me. Implicit in that was the will to force a battle if I refused.

In which case, all that remained was to drive a wedge of an entirely different magnitude from anything I had done so far.

"True enough. If you and I fought, Kramdel would vanish from the map, caw."

At my words, every one of the Four Pillars' eyes flooded with shock.

The Death King.

Arrogant beyond all reason.