Chapter 786

“My name is Stone King, you hideous monster.”

The moment he spat out those words as if biting them off, the Skeleton King finally understood.

He had found the answer to the question that had tormented him for so long.

All those nights when everyone else slept and he could not. All those days when everyone else went about their lives and he alone remained dead.

And the question that had bound his body and mind like a chain.

Who am I?

No matter how hard he’d thought about it, he’d never found an answer. But the answer had been there all along, within the Skeleton King himself.

So that’s it.

The Skeleton King muttered to himself.

In the black eyes he saw over a man’s shoulder, the radiance cast by his golden crown was reflected.

“What, exactly, did you want to become?”

Michael Silbert’s eyes trembled at the offhand question.

The Skeleton King continued calmly.

“There was a time when I desperately wanted to know. I tried to recover a past I can no longer remember, and I didn’t know what to call the person I am now.”

That was why he had followed a human he’d met one day out of a forest filled with nothing but death and darkness, and into an unfamiliar world.

“I wanted to find the answer in the world you live in. I believed I could.”

But he hadn’t. Even there, amid enormous metal things rolling on wheels and buildings taller than trees, the answer was nowhere to be found.

To the Skeleton King, who had left the forest in search of it, the human world was simply another forest.

“I can’t breathe or sleep. I can’t feel the cool breeze other humans talk about, or the taste of food. I can’t even feel the faintest pain.”

That was when he first learned that being unable to feel pain could itself be painful. And that some kinds of pain lay in the truth itself.

Monster.

It was the first word the Skeleton King had searched online the day he received a smartphone. One of the words he’d heard most often in the human world. A word for beings like him.

His questions gave way to an emotion he’d never felt before.

Anguish.

Anguish at having awakened as a monster through no choice of his own.

Fear that, to the people he had begun to talk with, share his feelings with, and grow close to, he might be nothing more than a monster.

“I wanted to deny that I was one of them. So I fought alongside you, and for you, with everything I had. I believed it was the right thing to do.”

He still believed it. Otherwise, he would never have considered sacrificing himself here today.

The Skeleton King didn’t want the humans he cared about to fall before the world did.

Humans were more complicated than he’d imagined. Some harbored terrible rage and killing intent, as monsters did—or worse.

But humans also knew restraint and love. They thought and acted according to their own will.

When petty disputes left countless people dead or injured, when children still little more than infants were abandoned in the street, it was humans who took those children into their arms.

That was why the Skeleton King had wanted to become human like them. To be welcomed among them not as a monster, but as a neighbor and a friend.

And why realizing it was impossible had driven him to despair.

But…

“Not anymore.”

The Skeleton King murmured calmly and gripped the horn piercing the back of his hand.

Crack.

He caught Michael Silbert’s hand around the horn as well. Though it had been bent and broken earlier, it was slowly healing.

A voice seething with fury escaped through Michael’s clenched teeth.

“You think… you think doing this will make a mere monster like you human…?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“I know. I’m a monster, so I can’t be called human. And because I live among humans, I can’t be called a monster.”

The Skeleton King smiled faintly.

“What does that matter? This is enough.”

“……!”

“You hideous, pitiful monster. Let me introduce myself once more.”

Looking into Michael Silbert’s wide eyes, the Skeleton King spoke slowly.

“I am the master of the Black Forest, the ruler of all the undead, and a hero of this world who fought for you humans. Call me the Skeleton King or the Stone King. Whatever name you give me is part of who I am. But…”

Tap.

The Skeleton King raised a hand and rested it on a man’s shoulder.

“I won’t tell you the first name I was given in this world.”

Because that was a name only a friend could use.

“Isn’t that right, Jin Taekyung? You conniving human.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Should I laugh at the bastard for finally coming to his senses? Get angry? Or smack him upside the head as hard as I could, like I usually did?

Like someone who’d forgotten how to speak, I sank into a brief but deep debate before suddenly opening my mouth.

“Golgoli, you stupid son of a bitch.”

Bones.

The first name I’d given the undead I’d met in the Black Forest.

Usually he’d have thrown a fit and told me not to call him that. Today, his answer was meek.

“I admit it. I was a stupid son of a bitch.”

“……”

“I won’t doubt you again.”

Damn it.

I was speechless. I had nothing to say. But somehow, I didn’t feel frustrated at all.

I just… felt relieved.

As if a stone had lifted from my chest. As if the last bit of distance between us had finally vanished.

Yeah. That was enough.

Feeling lighter, I threw a punch.

Thwack!

Michael Silbert’s face snapped back. I still had him by the hair, and he’d been standing there looking half out of it.

I didn’t even let him fall.

Thwack, thwack. Crack.

His proud nose caved in. Teeth spilled through his mangled lips.

I hit him until blood or tears ran down his cheeks from eyes veined with burst capillaries. Until his twitching limbs went limp.

Crack. Crunch.

I kept hitting him. Breaking him. Crushing him.

Every time I moved, every time my fists and feet slammed into him, the lingering aftermath of One Annihilation sent excruciating pain through my whole body. But I didn’t care.

If someone hadn’t grabbed my wrist, I might have beaten Michael Silbert to death right there.

Grab.

“Please stop, Mr. Jin. Not yet.”

A familiar voice, worn with exhaustion.

I turned without thinking and blinked. Team Leader Choi stood there, drenched from head to toe in blood.

No. Everyone was there.

“Jin, it’s over. It’s finally… finally over.”

Magic Johnson approached with Chuck Hagel supporting him. He smiled weakly, but there was no joy in it, despite their victory in a battle that had decided their fate.

After killing people who had once been his comrades, the hero’s smile was dark and bitter.

Just like the silence that had settled over us, and everyone surrounding me.

“Oh.”

A sound escaped me—part gasp, part groan.

Only then did I raise my head and look around. Everything they’d said was true.

Whoooosh.

A wind heavy with the smell of blood swept past.

Abandoned weapons and corpses filled every part of my view.

Pools of blood on the floor soaked our shoes. The enormous Round Table, once a symbol of the heroes who had saved the world, had been shattered, leaving only ruins behind.

Yeah. It was over.

The first battle for humanity’s fate.

The battle between duty and self-interest. Between humans and monsters.

It had ended here—and outside, where blood had been spilled beyond our sight.

Creeeeak. Boom.

The entrance door, already half broken, toppled with a heavy crash. Weary footsteps followed as people climbed over it.

Clank. Clank.

Their armor and weapons were soaked in blood.

At the sight of the blood-drenched figures filing in, quite a few of the surviving Hunters reached for their weapons. They stopped when Team Leader Choi spoke.

“How did it go?”

One of the two people at the front—a young man who still had peach fuzz on his face—answered in a soldier’s clipped tone.

“We killed or captured them all. We took more casualties than expected because of a man named Huginn, but we joined forces with the Peace and Ares Guilds and subdued him. Then we dispelled the illusion magic around the area and notified the Korean government a little while ago. Oh, and Mr. Shu here played a major part.”

“You’ve both worked hard. It would have been a difficult fight if you hadn’t trusted us and helped.”

At Team Leader Choi’s heartfelt words, the man in his thirties whom the young man had called “Mr. Shu” shook his head.

“I only trusted the Übermensch’s judgment and his choice. What I saw of him that day in Munich… He was a true superhuman.”

When he looked my way, I gave him a small nod in greeting. I nodded to the young man beside him, too. He was watching me with an expectant look.

Joel Schumacher. Xiao Shen.

They’d owed me, and today they’d paid me back with interest.

The others probably had no idea that Joel Schumacher, who had politely declined to attend the inaugural ceremony because of his injuries in Munich, had secretly entered Korea.

Or that Xiao Shen had brought Hunters from the Public Security Armed Forces Department and joined the elite forces of the Peace and Ares Guilds, who were fully prepared.

I remembered a question Team Leader Choi had asked me a few days ago.

“There’s a meticulous man. When do you think he’s most vulnerable, Mr. Jin?”

The answer hadn’t been hard. I’d seen it happen several times, and I’d made the same mistake myself.

“When he thinks he’s succeeded.”

I’d been right.

Michael Silbert might have guarded against things going wrong, but part of him had been certain he would win.

If he’d been acting like himself, he would have chosen France—his stronghold—or somewhere else with a firm support base, instead of Seoul, for the inaugural ceremony.

But that small lapse, that petty desire to stamp his name on this historic place, had brought down his vast ambition.

I could hear it clearly.

“We’ve won.”

Along with Team Leader Choi’s words, echoing through the silent air, someone’s hideous ambition crumbled to pieces.

I knew what I had left to do.

…Yeah.

To end everything, I had to erase the starting line where it all began.

Just as we had executed the traitors here today, the people who would have stood in the way of the great war to come.

I had to pull out the root. Otherwise, new weeds—and offshoots of this thorn tree—would keep growing.

Michael Silbert.

Crack.

I stomped on the chest of the man lying at my feet. Bones shifted beneath my boot.

Michael Silbert came to, blood surging from his mouth. He looked around with bleary eyes.

“So… that’s how it ended.”

His voice was fading, but his tone was composed.

He had probably realized it instinctively the moment he looked around.

That Huginn, his right-hand man, and the private army he had spent so many years training would never make it here.

“Did you kill them all?”

I answered evenly.

“The ones who were going to die died. The ones who were going to live lived.”

“Huginn must be among the latter. You’ll have plenty to ask him.”

“You know it.”

“Then I have a favor to ask.”

A favor.

That simple word suddenly made me sick. I kicked him in the face.

Thwack.

His head snapped aside, spraying blood.

But maybe he couldn’t feel pain anymore. Without so much as a groan, Michael Silbert spat the blood filling his mouth and stubbornly continued.

“Tell Huginn I’m grateful for everything he’s done, and that he no longer needs to be loyal to me. Grant me that favor, and it will be easier for both of you. You can at least spare yourselves a messy, tedious round of torture and interrogation.”

“Is that a kindness for a retainer who’s been loyal his whole life, or your last words?”

“Both, I suppose. From the look in your eyes, this place will be my grave soon.”

I looked down at Michael Silbert as he smiled soundlessly.

And I knew, more certainly than ever, that I couldn’t leave him the slightest chance.

The law? A trial?

Those institutions were made for humans, not monsters.

A monster should die like a monster.

So they could never struggle again. So that even the tiniest chance of the tumors he’d planted in this land over the past several decades saving that monster would disappear.

Yet this was also a lawful judgment.

Everyone here had witnessed the truth and fought through the bloodshed. They were witnesses and jurors, prosecutors and judges.

And from this moment on, they and I would finally become us.

Race. Sex. Age. Borders.

Even species would cease to divide us as we stood under one banner.

In the name of the World Hunter Federation.

Michael Silbert.

My voice broke the silence. Though I put no internal energy behind it, it carried through the chamber, clear and steady.

Loudly and clearly. On and on.

“From this moment forward, the World Hunter Federation revokes all your qualifications and summarily executes you as a traitor. Anyone who objects, step forward.”

Team Leader Choi answered at once.

“No objections.”

Magic Johnson spoke next.

“Everything according to the rules.”

Prince Felix bowed with dignity instead of answering. Faye Chen and Chuck Hagel struck their weapons together.

Clang!

The deep note rang out over the ruins.

Others joined in. One weapon became dozens, then hundreds, striking together and throwing blue sparks.

Someone pounded his armor with his one remaining hand. A white-haired elder struck the ground with a bloodied cane.

Boom. Boom. Boom-boom-boom.

The world shook. Pooled blood splashed in every direction.

No one objected. Everyone agreed.

To the World Hunter Federation’s first resolution.

To the death of a traitor born human who had become a monster.

Amid the deep resonance that rang on and on, I stared at Michael Silbert and asked,

“Any objections?”

After a moment’s silence, he answered.

“None. At first, I fought with all my strength to survive. After that, I fought to get what I wanted.”

“Any last words?”

“It’s your turn now. Go on—struggle with everything you have. I’ll be watching from up above.”

I raised my spear as his mocking words reached me. The shaft felt heavier than it ever had before.

Then, in front of hundreds of pairs of eyes, I drove the spearhead down with all my strength.

Thrust!

The spearhead pierced straight through his throat.

A strangled sound failed to make it past his lips. Michael Silbert’s body went rigid.

I looked into the monster’s eyes as life quickly drained away, then delivered the last words I’d put off until now.

“Just like you said, watch closely. Not from up above—from the very bottom, beneath my feet.”

“……!”

Was it anger that made his eyes widen at the end? Or the death he could no longer hold off?

Maybe both.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Countless chimes and radiance welled up inside me.