Chapter 392

Chapter 392
## Chapter 392: 1,054.

—

The Arkhon Empire.

It was widely recognized as the supreme human civilization across the continent. This nation never tolerated the footsteps of invaders on its soil. Since the very dawn of the Arkhon Empire, its grand capital had remained untouched by the flames of war. Though myriad organizations and power-hungry sects lusted after its riches, their dark ambitions were always thwarted before they could reach its gates.

It was the pinnacle of human strength. More accurately, it stood as the most formidable power the continent had ever seen.

“How… is this possible…”

Under normal circumstances, there was no reason for the seat of power to be consumed by fire. Yet, standing there now, Raiga witnessed the impossible.

It wasn’t just any district; the heart of the capital and the Imperial Palace itself were engulfed in a blaze. Great stone facades had buckled and crumbled, and the scorched remains of the dead littered the blackened earth. However, the most savage destruction had been reserved for a specific site: the altar.

The sacred altar of the Death God Cult.

The most hallowed ground for the followers of the Death God Cult had been pulverized so thoroughly that its original architecture was lost to the rubble. And standing at the epicenter of this ruin was a lone figure.

“…You’ve arrived late, Raiga.”

The scene was unsettling. The voice that echoed through the smoke was undeniably that of the Golden Mask. Yet, the individual standing there bore little resemblance to the majestic figure known to the world. The once-radiant golden mask was now caked in grime, fractured and splintered in several places. Through the jagged cracks of the ruined mask, the face underneath was visible.

‘Vile.’

The sight was stomach-churning, mangled beyond recognition. The flesh was a tapestry of severe burns. How could the legendary Golden Mask have been reduced to such a pathetic state? And why here, in the very sanctuary of the Imperial Palace?

“…Who launched this assault?”

“This was no outside invasion.”

“What was it then?”

“Treachery.”

Betrayal. The word hung heavy in the air. Who possessed the audacity or the means to turn on him? Raiga’s mind raced through a list of suspects. There were plenty of high-ranking members within the Death God Cult who harbored a deep-seated resentment toward the Golden Mask. Perhaps it was the Golden Lion, who had long loathed his superior’s condescending air. Or it could have been the Fox, who had recently been manipulating the Balrog Cult to serve hidden agendas.

Raiga had returned to the Empire specifically to monitor and suppress such internal fractures. It appeared, however, that the fuse had already been lit.

“Who turned against you?”

“…The Executors.”

Not a solitary traitor, but a collective. This only deepened the mystery. Judging by his wounds, the Golden Mask had come within an inch of his life. Yet, a mere handful of Executors should never have been capable of bringing him down. There was more to the Golden Mask than what met the eye; the power he wielded was staggering. To even attempt to kill such a man, Raiga himself would have required months of meticulous strategy and preparation.

The Golden Mask spoke again, his voice rasping.

“It was the avatars of ‘Phantom’.”

A sharp, jagged grin spread across his face. For a fleeting moment, the Golden Mask chuckled. It wasn’t his typical air of calm superiority. It was a ghastly, distorted expression of madness. He reached down, retrieving a shattered blade fragment to use as a makeshift mirror.

“Because of them, I feel a sense of liberation. It’s as if the true ‘me’ has finally been reclaimed!”

He actually took pleasure in that hideous reflection? It was clear that the Golden Mask’s psyche had fractured alongside his mask. He had transformed into someone—or something—entirely different, and the change was sinister.

Raiga’s brow deepened with concern. The Executors, acting as Phantom’s vessels, had struck from within. Their objectives had been the altar and the life of the Golden Mask. They had achieved half their goal before vanishing into the night.

The first name that surfaced in Raiga’s thoughts was the ‘Thunder Lion’. He was surely the one responsible for the altar’s demolition. But…

“Golden Mask. Who is responsible for the state of your face?”

The brutal scarring on that visage didn’t bear the marks of the Thunder Lion. While the Thunder Lion was immensely powerful, his lightning-based abilities would struggle to bypass the unique authority the Golden Mask commanded. Furthermore, that face wasn’t charred by electricity; it had been physically ground away. These were wounds inflicted by someone who had seized the Golden Mask’s head with overwhelming force, shoved him into a furnace, and dragged him across a stone wall.

A creature of such terrifying physical dominance was unheard of. Was there truly such a monster hidden among Phantom’s incarnations?

“….”

As he contemplated the one who had forced this disgrace upon him, the Golden Mask’s grin turned cold and rigid.

“…One of ‘Phantom’s’ own vessels.”

“That doesn’t sound like any Executor I know.”

Aside from the designated Executors, there shouldn’t have been any other avatar of ‘Phantom’ present within the palace walls. Yet, the Golden Mask’s tone suggested he was unfamiliar with his attacker. Who could it have been? The culprits had already fled beyond the Empire’s borders.

“Regardless of their identity, a traitor deserves only a grave. I will wipe out every trace of ‘Phantom’, that vessel of malice. Raiga, I assume you are in agreement with my resolve?”

“…Do you have a lead on the Executors’ location?”

“They are making their way to the ‘Labyrinth City’.”

“…You mean the domain of the Ojuryeok serving the White King?”

The King of Corpse Crows, an Ojuryeok. Because that city sat under the direct protection of the White King, any hostile action there would be interpreted as a declaration of total war. Why would the renegade Executors seek refuge in the Labyrinth City? Was it simply because it was one of the few places beyond the Empire’s reach?

The Golden Mask’s warning not to oppose him now made sense.

“Are you truly prepared to provoke a conflict with the White King?”

The Golden Mask was ready to ignite a continental war immediately, showing zero deference to the White King, the sovereign of the North. If they marched on the Labyrinth City, the White King would undoubtedly retaliate with full force. As the Empire’s Greatest Sword and its sworn Guardian Knight, Raiga found this impossible to support blindly. He would have preferred the Death God Cult to clean up its own mess.

However, the situation wasn’t that simple. The Imperial Palace had been desecrated. Since the very home of the Emperor had been breached, Raiga couldn’t simply stand aside. At the very least, the primary Executors had to be brought to justice.

As Raiga weighed the consequences, the Golden Mask’s eyes flashed with a strange light.

“Prepare yourself for a revelation, Raiga.”

“….?”

He dropped a bombshell that shook Raiga to his core.

“The Goat is the Ojuryeok.”

“…That’s impossible.”

The Golden Goat—the 12th legitimate successor. The claim seemed nonsensical. There was no precedent for a Corpse Crow to manifest a legitimate successor. But the Golden Mask wasn’t finished.

“The Ojuryeok is Phantom himself.”

“….”

“We have been deceived from the very start. By him—by Randolph!”

Ojuryeok Randolph. And the man suspected of being Phantom, also named Randolph. He was asserting that these weren’t merely two men sharing a name, but a single entity playing both sides. Raiga still struggled to bridge the gap. The North’s Kramdel was famous for his hatred of humanity. It was inconceivable that the White King would elevate a human to such a position of power. And if the Empire had failed to see through the ruse, that was equally baffling.

…And yet.

Raiga envisioned the Randolph he had encountered at the Tower of the War God. The titan who had stood toe-to-toe with Wilhelm. The being capable of summoning the Fiend God Baal and the Blade Dragon God. When remembering that man, total denial became difficult. ‘That’ Randolph seemed capable of defying any logic. Moreover, hadn’t Raiga himself suspected a link between Randolph and the Goat previously?

He had tried to dismiss the thought, but if the Goat and Randolph were indeed one and the same…

Then the Golden Mask was right. They had been played for fools. Raiga, the Golden Mask, the Death God Cult… and the entirety of the Empire.

“Behold!”

The Golden Mask suddenly turned toward the palace’s inner sanctum, throwing his arms wide.

“I can feel it! His Majesty the Emperor is beginning to stir!”

—

“….”

The Thunder Lion and the group of Executors trekked along a secluded mountain trail. There were roughly forty of them in total. Interestingly, the Thunder Lion was not the one leading the march.

“Hey, what’s our destination? Are we actually going to the Labyrinth City?”

“….”

The man at the front remained silent. He was a broad-shouldered man wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Despite not being an Executor, he commanded the group with unspoken authority.

‘Who exactly is this guy?’

The Thunder Lion watched him with constant suspicion. This stranger had materialized just as the Thunder Lion was finishing the destruction of the altar and struggling against the Golden Mask. They had attempted a coordinated strike, but the Golden Mask had proven to be a nightmare to put down. His power was far greater than their intelligence had suggested. Even when the Executors unleashed their combined might, they couldn’t land a decisive blow.

‘That feather… it was definitely from the Bluebird.’

The reason for the Golden Mask’s resilience became clear. While he was naturally powerful, he possessed a ‘Bluebird’s Feather’ that completely neutralized their offensive. The Thunder Lion was certain of it; it matched the feather of the Bluebird he remembered vividly. How the Golden Mask obtained such an item was a mystery.

‘If this stranger hadn’t stepped in, we’d all be corpses.’

The man had intervened at their lowest point. Upon arriving, he had bypassed the Golden Mask’s defenses and literally ground his face into the dirt. Following that, he had used a unique ability to spirit them out of the Empire.

“Why didn’t you just finish the Golden Mask off?”

“…That man is not so easily slain.”

The man finally spoke, his voice low.

Impossible to kill? But he had achieved in seconds what the entire squad of Executors couldn’t manage together.

“I caught him off guard once. He’s too sharp to fall for the same trick twice, so withdrawal was our only option.”

“You only had a single opening?”

“The ‘Golden Mask’ isn’t human. That is all you need to know for the moment.”

“Not… human?”

The revelation was jarring. A pillar of the Empire and a leader of the Death God Cult wasn’t a man? He was the one people referred to as the Crown Prince!

As they crested a ridge and began their descent, the sprawling silhouette of the ‘Labyrinth City’ appeared on the horizon. The guide stopped.

“My role as your guide ends here at the ‘Labyrinth City’.”

“Hold on. You’re just going to drop us off and vanish?”

“…I am an Observer. My involvement is strictly limited.”

The man sighed. He had already violated his own codes by interfering to save the Thunder Lion and the Executors from certain death. He spoke with a slow, deliberate cadence.

“There are 1,054 vessels of ‘Phantom’ scattered across this world. Your objective is to congregate them here. Only through your union will ‘Phantom’ be restored.”

“…And where is Phantom now?”

“He remains in a state of slumber. To rouse him, the presence of as many avatars as possible is required.”

“How are we supposed to track them down?”

“The knowledge will come to you. You share a fundamental connection. Whether through your dreams, your instincts, or some other pull, you will find one another.”

It resonated with the Thunder Lion. He already felt an inexplicable bond—not just with his fellow Executors, but with this mysterious man too. It was an aura of shared origin that defied simple words.

“Exercise caution, however. Among the avatars, there are those who far outstrip you in power, and those who will be difficult to sway. Be particularly wary of the ‘three’.”

“The three? Who are they?”

“That, too, will become clear in time.”

The man shrugged and produced an object from his coat.

‘A fishing rod.’

It was the same tool he had used to bypass the Empire’s borders. As he cast the line into the empty air, the space tore open with a sharp hum, forming a shimmering blue portal. Just before stepping into the rift, he looked back.

“Just as Phantom once ensured your ‘survival’, the burden is now on you to ensure that Phantom ‘survives’.”

Survival. It was the core memory that bound every avatar present. If not for Phantom, they would have been lost to the void. Now, the time had come to return the favor.

As the man and his portal dissolved into nothingness, the Thunder Lion and the Executors stood before the gates of the Labyrinth City, their faces set with grim determination.

*Kreeeeak!*

The massive iron-reinforced gates groaned as they swung inward. The Thunder Lion stepped inside the Labyrinth City, but as he looked around, he froze.

“…Unbelievable.”

The sight that met him within the walls left him completely stunned.