Chapter 397

Chapter 397
## Chapter 397: Confrontation of the Pale Sovereign and the Obsidian King

There was a mole in their midst.

Right here.

The suspicion fell squarely on the leadership of the Death God Cult—the eleven Orthodox Guardians.

This was a logical conclusion, as the specifics of this clandestine operation were known only to that inner circle.

“Control your impulses, Golden Mask,” a woman cautioned, her face concealed behind the visage of a gilded fox.

She was a formidable figure, responsible for training the Empire’s vast legions of fox-masked warriors and maintaining a deep alliance with the Balrog Order. As the third-seated authority within the Death God Cult, her words carried a weight that even the Golden Mask had to respect.

“The Star Guardians have barricaded the path. Are you suggesting this isn’t the result of a leak?”

“Didn’t you conclude this yourself? That the fifth Juyeok is none other than Goat, and Goat is Randolph… the ‘Phantom.’ Given he is a scoundrel who has been playing us from the start, it is entirely plausible he deduced our strategy in advance.”

…Phantom.

That was the realization.

They had firmly established that the individual known as ‘Goat,’ who had infiltrated their ranks as the 12th Orthodox Guardian, was actually ‘Phantom.’

If that man was indeed Phantom, the puzzle pieces fell into place.

After conquering the Labyrinth of the Abyss and joining the cult specifically to spy on them, he would have had every opportunity to map out their logistics and anticipate their strikes. He had clearly approached them with a long-term deception in mind. The betrayal of Phantom’s various personas was part of the same calculated play.

Most significantly, ‘Phantom’ was almost certainly an avatar of ‘Wilhelm.’

And the Golden Mask harbored a deep, burning resentment toward Wilhelm.

It was the Golden Mask’s lobbying that had largely prevented the Empire from supporting the Great Expedition. To have the very man he despised make a mockery of the Death God Cult was intolerable.

He would not find peace until the man was utterly annihilated.

This shared fury was why the high-ranking members of the cult had finally reached a rare consensus: the ‘Labyrinth Invasion.’

“That man is like a deep cavern. We haven’t even begun to see the bottom of his schemes.”

“Indeed, he is a formidable adversary.”

The Lion grunted in agreement with the Fox.

It was Goat who had ruthlessly claimed every soul at the Feast of the Death God. His pattern of provocation, his refusal to assimilate, and the way he balanced precariously between Lyca and the Cult all made sense now. Yet, through all of that, his true face had remained hidden.

Phantom was, quite truly, a terrifying opponent.

“I am uncertain of the connection between the Star Guardians and this maze, but they cannot hold us back indefinitely. Do you not agree, Golden Mask?”

“……”

The Golden Fox’s logic was sound, yet the situation remained bizarre.

The Star Guardians were notoriously reclusive, rarely intervening unless it concerned the ‘Goddess’s Star.’ For them to manifest in such numbers to defend Labyrinth City was unprecedented. It suggested a profound link between the city, the fifth Juyeok, and the Guardians themselves.

Furthermore….

‘*The Giant of Evil Annihilation has mobilized.*’

The Golden Mask forced himself to evaluate the field with cold precision.

First, there was the phalanx of Star Guardians, with the Giant of Evil Annihilation standing as their central pillar. As the sentinel of the ‘Mother Star,’ its power was beyond question.

‘*Only Phantom possesses the means to move that Giant.*’

The personal involvement of such a legendary guardian confirmed it: Goat and the fifth Juyeok were one and the same—Phantom Randolph. The man who had humiliated him at every turn.

“Keep your temper in check. I shall deal with the Giant of Evil Annihilation myself.”

“…Very well, Golden Fox.”

The Golden Mask gave a stiff nod. Creating internal friction by hunting for a traitor at this critical juncture was a strategic error. The Death God Cult needed to present a unified front. It was this necessity that had brought all the executives here in such haste.

‘*I will let you lead the dance just this once, Phantom.*’

The Golden Mask suppressed his agitation. No matter how much the bastard had prepared, he could not stand against the combined might of the Death God Cult.

—

The dark elves who had infiltrated the labyrinth were advancing with ghostly silence, masking their presence perfectly. Their mastery of stealth was unmatched; among all the sentient races, none could move as invisibly as they. Even the most predatory monsters failed to detect their passage.

—*How many sectors is this place partitioned into?*

—*Check the masonry. Each zone has a level designation carved into it.*

—*…Our current location is level 3.*

—*Master. Should we continue our ascent?*

The dark elves communicated through the subtle vibrations of the Golden Rule. Their leader, a figure shrouded entirely in midnight-black fabric, surveyed the environment.

‘*It is split into ten distinct zones. It’s built like a spire, a structure that moves constantly upward.*’

They climbed a new set of stairs with every sector they cleared. Each zone was so massive that two people entering at different points might think they were in different worlds, yet the vertical hierarchy remained constant.

This was…

‘*This resembles a tower more than a traditional maze.*’

The architecture was vertical. The danger, however, was in the choice of path; selecting the wrong flight of stairs could send one spiraling in the wrong direction. Each zone offered dozens of staircases, but only a single one led to the correct destination. One had to navigate all the way through the 9th level just to reach the labyrinth’s heart.

In that regard, its complexity was worthy of the name. It was a deathtrap of the highest order. Furthermore, once a staircase was scaled and a new zone reached, the previous path simply vanished.

This meant…

‘*Retreat is no longer an option.*’

They were walled in. The moment they stepped inside, the exit had ceased to exist. They were no longer just scouts; they were survivors fighting to reach the center, as there was no way to return to the Black King with intelligence. They had to keep climbing.

—*We move up.*

There was no other choice. Every path only pointed higher. They just had to hope they could decipher the underlying logic of the place.

They continued their ascent, step by grueling step.

—……

—……

The dark elves suddenly froze, their breath hitching. The number ‘7Lv’ was etched into the wall before them. They were nearing the summit.

However, they were paralyzed by what they saw. A young girl was standing there, her eyes fixed directly on their ‘invisible’ positions.

“…Greetings.”

“Ah……”

“Retreat…!”

The realization hit them instantly. This was an entity far beyond the dark elves’ capacity to fight. They recoiled instinctively, but the stairs behind them had already dissolved into nothingness.

“I-it is… nice to meet you… so… um.”

At that moment, a sickening rustle filled the air.

*Sliiiither!*

An endless swarm of ‘ebon hands’ manifested from the shadows behind the girl.

The Dark Elf Lord recognized them. He had encountered such horrors before.

‘*The Tower of the War God.*’

Wasn’t this the entity that Wilhelm had contained there? Lucaria? To find that personification of ‘Despair’ here was unthinkable. And even more terrifying—she was only guarding the 7th level. What nightmares awaited them on the levels above?

The girl’s face remained somber as she spoke.

“…Would you be so kind as to die for me?”

—

The scouts sent into the maze had failed to return. Even with the Lord leading them, there was no word. Neither the Death God Cult nor the Balrog Order were providing updates.

‘*Are they all pursuing their own agendas?*’

It appeared the alliance was fraying, each faction seeking its own advantage. The Black King realized he could wait no longer.

“Commence the entry.”

He would have to settle this personally within the labyrinth. At his command, a tide of black beasts surged forward, pouring toward the warp gate like a dark flood. They were biological weapons, the pinnacle of lethal evolution. No one should have been able to withstand them.

But the Black King soon realized he had underestimated the defense. When he finally stepped through the warp himself, the scene was one of total chaos.

*Gyaaaaaak!*

*Grooooooowl—*

A landscape of carnage and screams met his eyes. The force halting his army’s progress was one he recognized all too well.

‘*The beasts of the northern wilds.*’

Hmph. It seemed the White King had already committed his forces to the fray. Ordinarily, the northern monsters were no match for the black beasts, even if the White King’s elite were present.

And yet….

‘*Have they undergone a metamorphosis?*’

It appeared the White King had finally tapped into the latent power of the White Tiger Tribe, sharing that essence of accelerated evolution with his subjects. It was the same principle the Black King used to grant ‘Hidden Traits’ to his own creations.

The ‘White Tiger Tribe’ and the ‘Black Tiger Tribe’ were ancient, predestined rivals. But the Black King viewed the White King as an amateur—a toothless weakling who hadn’t even mastered his own heritage.

‘*This is becoming quite entertaining.*’

The prospect of slaying the White King was finally getting interesting. He had been concerned the conquest would be tedious.

He had initially held back, watching as the so-called southern front attempted to stem the tide. He wanted to gauge the White King’s current strength and the quality of his officers. At the time, they had seemed underwhelming. Even the ‘Snake King,’ the second Juyeok, had been a disappointment, possessing a soul that was merely a convenient vessel for ‘Despair.’

‘*He must have fully awakened the White Tiger authority only recently.*’

That was the only explanation. The Black King’s grin widened. Did the White King truly believe a newly discovered power could stop the perfected army of black beasts?

*Craaaack!*

*Ruuuuuumble!*

In that instant, a titan of a monster tore through the ranks. It was a mass of pure, knotted muscle, with countless eyes blinking from within its undulating flesh. It began to systematically butcher the black beasts with terrifying ease.

The Black King’s smile vanished instantly, replaced by a grim, focused scowl. He knew exactly what he was looking at.

“Destruction King… Mok…?”

The legendary masterpiece of the White Tiger lineage. The absolute zenith of their species. Destruction King Mok.

But that being shouldn’t exist in this era. It wasn’t something a simple awakening could conjure. Was the White King truly capable of commanding such a force?

The Black King bared his teeth just as a voice drifted across the battlefield.

“It has been a long time, Black King.”

The White King emerged in the distance, his coat a brilliant, shimmering white, his missing fangs restored and gleaming.

“You pathetic coward…”

The Black King ran his tongue over his lip. To him, the White King was a craven soul who had avoided a direct confrontation for decades, save for one instance. Now, he had appeared voluntarily. Did he actually believe he could win?

“Are you here to weep and plead for mercy again, just like last time?”

The White King did, after all, have a history of failure against him. During the final great conflict between their tribes a century ago—before he had even taken the crown—he had been humbled.

“…Let us conclude the feud between the White and Black Tiger Tribes here, with our generation.”

“I told you then, and I will tell you now: you lack the spirit of a true King.”

“And you were never the rightful vessel for the Black King either.”

The White King glanced back at the past. He hadn’t been born a conqueror; he had been a cautious, even timid youth. His reputation as an ‘undefeated king’ came only because he refused to take risks he couldn’t manage. But in terms of raw legitimacy, the Black King was no better.

The White King shrugged.

“Regardless… I have never truly been broken by you, nor have I ever begged for my life. Are you sure you aren’t misremembering your own actions, Black King?”

“…It seems I must beat the truth back into you.”

*Chwaaaarrrrr—*

The Black King’s frame expanded violently. His proportions shifted, his limbs elongating and thickening until he resembled a massive, predatory beast on four legs. The magical pressure radiating from him was astronomical.

And—

*Craaaaaaack!*

The White King matched the transformation. Two colossal entities—one a mountain of white fur, the other a shadow of obsidian—loomed over the battlefield. These were forms usually kept sealed because their mere presence was too destructive for the world to handle.

Then, as if a signal had been given:

*Gooooooooo—*

*Kraaaaaaaaw!*

With a dual roar that shook the very foundation of the labyrinth, the two kings charged toward their final collision.