Chapter 343

Chapter 343
## Chapter 343

The true nature of ‘it’ was something the Forgotten God could never have envisioned. It was a manifestation completely beyond her comprehension.

**The Gray King, the Nameless Devourer.**

He was the sovereign of all wild things. Yet, this was no ordinary ‘monarch.’ In the ancient dawn, countless breeds of monsters prowled the world, some even touched by the divine, but a singular ‘king’ among them had never existed.

And yet, there he stood. An entity that could only be described as the King of the Primordial Beasts. Furthermore, the sheer magnitude of the power he wielded transcended even that lofty title.

—

The creature underwent a cycle of continuous, relentless evolution. It shifted and improved time and time again, reaching a point where its presence was utterly suffocating. Just when one thought the transformation had peaked, another layer of power surfaced; when it seemed to have reached its limit, yet another form emerged.

Under normal circumstances, this would not have mattered. No being should have been able to withstand Mok, the King of Ruin, a creature that represented the absolute pinnacle of its lineage. That was the conviction held until the Gray King revealed himself.

*Grrrk. Grrrrk.*

Mok, the King of Ruin, emitted a guttural, wary noise as he dropped into a defensive crouch. Simultaneously, the White King’s brow furrowed in irritation.

‘That aroma…’

The scent in the air had intensified. It wasn’t the stench of a loser, but something entirely alien—a fragrance he had never encountered in all his years.

‘What am I smelling?’

Had it been the odor of impending mortality, he would have recognized it instantly. This was different—darker, more stagnant, and heavy with a musty weight. Moreover, another familiar trail was mixing in.

“The Lord of Five Calamities…”

That specific scent was also growing potent. It was a profile so distinct it could belong to no one else. But for a being supposedly evolved by the Druid of the Golden Rule, the aura was excessively grim. It suggested that this darkness was the actual shade of the Druid’s inner self.

The Gray King. The Nameless Devourer.

A haunting suspicion began to take root. If that was truly the essence of the Druid of the Golden Rule—if he was both the Gray King and a consumer of souls…

“You…”

The White King’s features turned stone-cold. The mere hypothesis was enough to incite a deep, visceral revulsion.

“Did you… consume the Lord of Five Calamities?”

There was no other logical conclusion. Without having feasted upon the Lord of Five Calamities, the current olfactory evidence made no sense.

The Druid of the Golden Rule remained silent. But in this instance, silence was an admission. The heavy atmosphere and the lack of denial provided all the confirmation the White King needed. His expression hardened into a mask of fury. Regardless of how wretched the Lord of Five Calamities was, or how much of a disrespectful, chaotic bird he had been, he was still one of his own.

‘He remains the Lord of Five Calamities. He is my sworn subject.’

Loyalty and blood ties were paramount. The Lord of Five Calamities was among the five elite lieutenants the White King had hand-picked. Furthermore, the Lord had chosen to serve him over the Star Guardians. Given his ties to the White King’s daughter, Aria, and his assistance in recovering a lost relic, their fates were tightly entwined.

The Druid of the Golden Rule had preyed upon such a vital subordinate. Therefore, any remaining patience or respect for the Druid evaporated instantly.

“Eliminate him, Mok.”

*Guoooooo—!*

Mok, the King of Ruin, allowed his physical form to expand with lethal intent. He would rip the opponent into nothingness.

—

“The scale of this… it’s on another level.”

“Exactly what I expected from the Druid of the Golden Rule.”

The observing members of the organization began to murmur. The duel unfolding before them was breathtaking, showcasing a chasm in power that dwarfed their own capabilities.

With a stunned expression, Druid Albino remarked, “We use the term ‘soul’… but it is synonymous with ‘craving’.”

The Monster Soul was a mirror of the master’s inner being. But what defined a soul? What dictated its rank and magnitude? Albino’s philosophy was that ‘craving’ was the deciding factor. In the grand scheme of existence, a soul and its deepest desires were essentially the same.

The depth of one’s hunger determined the vastness of the soul. The yearning to grow more powerful even as one reached new heights, the drive to shatter barriers and exceed one’s own nature—all of this required both desire and understanding. As one’s knowledge expanded, so too did their cravings and the soul itself.

“Are you saying that eagle’s shape is the embodiment of Hyun’s desire?” Lyca questioned.

If the soul and desire were identical, how could one explain that specific manifestation? It wasn’t merely his status as the Gray King. From the moment the clash began, the ashen predator had dissolved into a mist, confounding the many eyes of Mok, the King of Ruin.

That mist then coalesced into twelve distinct shadows, centered around a rising, leaden sun. As that sun gradually deepened into a void-like black, the many eyes scattered across Mok’s hide began to snap shut. No, they weren’t simply closing.

‘…They are being blotted out.’

The eyes were being erased, as if they were being systematically consumed. Lyca watched the spectacle with a grim look. If this was the core of Hyun’s soul, it meant he was a creature that existed to swallow everything. It was a terrifyingly greedy and vast existence.

*Guwaaaaaaak—!*

Mok, the King of Ruin, let out a tortured shriek. His physical strikes were useless; they merely passed through the shifting vapor. The twelve shadows were equally elusive. Yet, every time a beak struck from within the haze, Mok’s flesh was brutally gouged away.

Suddenly, a new variable entered the fray.

“…I will not permit this insolence.”

*Shiiik—! Kwaaaaaang!*

The White King threw himself into the center of the spiritual duel. He lunged forward, striking directly at the primary form of the Nameless Devourer. With his sharpened predatory instincts, he had managed to pinpoint the original among the illusions.

However, his interference was a blatant breach of the engagement’s terms.

> **【 The ‘White King’ is disqualified. 】**
> **【 The ‘Druid of the Golden Rule’ is the victor! 】**

The verdict meant nothing to him. Victory and defeat were secondary to his rage.

‘How dare you.’

*Crack—*

The White King’s body began a violent expansion. He shed his human guise entirely, reverting to his ‘primal state’ rather than the restrained form he usually maintained. It was a shape he hadn’t revealed since his legendary battle with Wilhelm. Now, he was even more massive than he had been then.

His size, his aura, and his ferocity were unparalleled—the true majesty of the White Tiger Clan, the eternal lords of the northern territories. He had intended to save this form for a confrontation with the Black King, but the Gray King was too great a threat to ignore.

He was past the point of caring. How dare this upstart consume his servant. Such a predator could not be allowed to persist.

—

The Forgotten God watched with a frown as Mok, the King of Ruin, fell.

—He even managed to replicate the essence of Truth…?

This was more than mere consumption. It was an authority that transcended eating; it was the power to devour and then erase from existence. Had the Druid succeeded completely, the soul would have been extinguished forever, and Mok would never have been able to manifest in the world again. It was undeniably the influence of Truth.

But how could he possibly mimic such a cosmic absolute?

‘He bested Truth once.’

The realization became clear. Truth must have attempted to delete the Druid of the Golden Rule, yet he had endured. While she didn’t understand the mechanics of his survival, he had not only survived but had unintentionally branded the power of Truth onto his very soul. That brand was now being projected through the devourer.

‘…You are a truly nonsensical being.’

A laugh nearly escaped her. She wondered what kind of monster she had helped foster. Mok could not compete with that power, and normally, the White King wouldn’t either. But then she considered the White Tiger Emperor.

The Emperor was the one who had birthed Mok and the one who had eventually ended him. He had stood at the apex of the White Tiger Clan’s history for eons, and no descendant had ever mirrored his greatness—until now. The White King, in his true form, was the spitting image of the Emperor she remembered.

The Forgotten God watched the three entities—the White King, the Gray King, and the Druid—with renewed fascination. She was genuinely curious to see if the White King, having fully awakened the Emperor’s bloodline, could bypass that absolute authority. She wondered who was truly superior: the Druid who could mimic the Truth, or the King of the North.

It was obvious the White King no longer sought a trophy. He had only one goal now.

*Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaang—!*

“I’ll settle this instantly.”

*Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!*

The Colosseum was rocked by a massive detonation. As the dust began to settle, three figures appeared: the White King, Albino, and Lyca. The latter two had sensed the White King’s killing intent and had moved in a flash to intercept the blow.

“…”

The White King offered no words. Transformed into a titanic white tiger, he stared at me with the eyes of a frenzied predator. I met his gaze directly.

‘He’s different.’

I was genuinely taken aback. This wasn’t the White King I recognized—the one who prioritized his own survival above all else. That man would never enter a fight he wasn’t certain to win. Even in his primal form, taking on both Albino and Lyca simultaneously was suicidal. He had to know he was facing certain defeat, yet he had struck without a second thought.

What could possibly drive him to take such a gamble?

‘The Lord of Five Calamities. The Sovereign of Corpse Crows.’

The realization hit me. There was only one reason. The Lord of Five Calamities—the crow form Randolph had assumed. Though my identity was split between Park Hyunmyeong and Randolph, my soul remained a single unit. The White King had detected the essence of the crow within my soul. He clearly believed I had murdered and devoured the Lord of Five Calamities to gain this power.

Simply put, it was a massive misunderstanding.

The issue was that I couldn’t clarify the situation. With so many witnesses present, I couldn’t exactly explain that the revered Druid of the Golden Rule was actually the same person as the dreaded King of Corpse Crows. Even a simple denial wouldn’t suffice; he wouldn’t believe me anyway. I knew his stubborn nature better than anyone. In this scenario, silence was my only real option.

Yet, a thought occurred to me.

‘Wait. Is he actually grieving for the Lord of Five Calamities?’

Their relationship had always seemed antagonistic. They bickered constantly and were far from being friendly. It was a strictly professional, pragmatic alliance. I never would have guessed the White King would react so violently to the “death” of the crow—especially not to the point of risking his life against two other masters.

*Guoooooooooo!*

the White King let out a deafening roar. In that moment, another transformation rippled through his body. The numerous ‘eyes’ that had belonged to Mok, the King of Ruin, began to manifest across the White King’s own fur.

*Shiiik!*

The White King vanished from sight in a blur of impossible speed.

‘He’s fast!’