Chapter 600 – Collapse of the Colossus

“Mister?”

At the sound of Shiba’s voice, the previously blurred vision abruptly refocused, rekindling the cafe’s luminosity.

“Beep. What thoughts are preoccupying you so? Is there something amiss?”

Should it be called a nightmare, or a squandered final opportunity for salvation?

The King, at a loss for words, swallowed the acrid drink before him, soon forcing a hollow laugh. It was inevitable that his fleeting glance at the past had torn at his heart.

“It’s nothing to worry about.”
“From the look of things, it’s clearly something, mister. Speak frankly. What are friends for?”
“…Typically, ‘friends’ isn’t a term used to describe a man and woman with such a substantial age gap.”
“That’s not true. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Shiba’s gaze trailed off into the void before descending. Lee Shiba’s status window was overflowing with legal evidence that could refute the relationship between her and the King.

“…Thinking of us as friends.”

– Bubble, bubble.

As Shiba blew air into the straw she was gnawing on, the displaced air frothed the latte. The bubbles from the foam filled the cup.

“…You’re not upset, are you?”
“No, not at all.”

Her words said otherwise, but her face was unmistakably upset.

“I don’t want to be your friend either. Beep.”

Shiba’s ‘Friend Quest.’ Three individuals had aided her in completing this quest: Camellia, Bam, and this man. Of these three, Camellia had been kidnapped, Bam was persistently unavailable, citing business. After waiting and waiting, she had finally secured a meeting. But he was saying they weren’t friends.

Such a revelation was bound to bruise young Shiba’s heart.

“I apologize.”
“Why are you apologizing? You said we weren’t friends. There’s no need to apologize if we’re not friends.”

Shiba’s sharp, rapid-fire retort! The King closed his eyes tightly, her words piercing his paternal heart.

Shiba, nursing her hurt, silently observed the King for an extended moment,

“Ah…”

She heaved a sigh and hung her head.

“I misspoke.”
“Yes, you did misstep.”

Upon his acknowledgment, Shiba’s face broke into a grin.

“In that case, it’s alright! Try uttering such words again.”

At her smile, the King momentarily lost his bearings. It was as if his soul had slipped away.

The beauty of the girl, always accentuated no matter when observed. But the King’s current situation was far from bright. The Shiba before him was not his daughter. His truly beloved daughter was already dead.

To save his daughter, the King had to hang that beautiful angel himself.

Meaning, I must do it myself.

– Creeeak?

The roots protruding from his spine writhed like sea anemones.

‘It’s not time yet. It can be done at the last moment.’

This girl is not my daughter.

Even though he knew this fact, his body refused to comply as much as his mind.

“Sir.”

Unaware of the king’s inner thoughts, Shiva merely laughs. Her innocent demeanor, as light as a feather, precisely targets and pierces the king’s vulnerabilities. She is undeniably a formidable character.

Shiva, resting her chin in her hands, lets her soft lips move as she speaks.

“At times, you seem overly contemplative. It appears as if you’re hiding many things from me.”

What can a strict vagabond possibly have to hide?

“Isn’t that so? But strangely, whenever I see you, there’s something… a certain something.”

“?”

It’s difficult to articulate, but nonetheless.

“Did I mention it before? You’re somewhat… um, fatherly.”

She isn’t vastly different in demeanor or appearance. It’s not entirely odd for Shiva to feel a sense of nostalgia towards the king.

Their meeting is more dramatic than expected. He abruptly appeared before Shiva while she was eating at a convenience store, lending an ear to Shiva’s stories and worries. How many people in this world manage to form bonds in this manner?

Although it appears organic, there’s an ambiguity. Even a drama script written in this manner might invite criticism. Nevertheless, the unusual relationship between these two could only be established because they both harbored feelings for each other.

He has the memories of his daughter. And Shiva, too…

“Ah! Just don’t disappear all of a sudden. I’ve helped you start anew, so you owe me for a lifetime.”

She pleads not to disappear abruptly. Casually thrown words, yet the sigh leaking at the end is tinged with loneliness and melancholy.

“Because we’re friends!”

An incredibly sweet proposal, but Shiva is not his daughter.

What she truly sought to save was elsewhere.

“It’s okay, Shiva.”

The king keeps his lips sealed till the very end.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The king aimlessly wanders the night streets. His mind is ceaselessly filled with unclean thoughts.

“Ugh!”

The night air, mingled with fine dust, has a slightly sharp sting. Even though China has collapsed, the current state of the air signifies Korea’s significant development.

Regrettably, it lacks a pleasant aroma.

“Shuffle.”

The king continues his walk. Ignoring the inexplicable magic sealing the alley entrance, he steps into the dark alley and halts.

A torn garbage bag leaks its contents onto the ground. Shoe prints are visible, but they do not elicit discomfort.

“Shuffle.”

The king halts in one spot. Before him, a gray-haired old man seated in a wheelchair awaits, a large sword gripped in his hand.

“Hmm. For one so vocal, you don’t exhibit much bravura.”

A countenance marred by countless scars. A specter wielding a blade.

A veteran who, although retired from the frontlines, still harbors a relentless spirit.

The national bloom of Korea, Mugung. His worn-out uniform, adorned with tiger stains, wraps tightly around his frame.

– Hssss.

As the thread of magic pulls taut, the surrounding clamor is silenced. Two swordsmen, faces concealed, flank Mugung, their hands resting ominously on their sheaths, a veiled threat to the king.

“Do you possess the power to shatter the world?”
“Mugung.”
“I’ve always been curious about the strength that resides in a mere vestige of tribulation…”

Mugung’s gaze sweeps over the king’s form, a visible distaste darkening his features.

“Indeed, you were a beast.”

Moonlight spills askew, illuminating the alley. The dim beams uncover the king’s visage— a revelation that prompts Mugung’s eyes to contract in barely concealed surprise.

Lee Si-heon.

The once-presumed-dead disciple of the Heavenly Demon.

Upon witnessing Si-heon, aged beyond his forties, Mugung is momentarily speechless. Soon, however, he succumbs to a bout of hearty laughter.

“Khhhh. So it’s come to this?”

The test of tribulation is embodied in Lee Si-heon.

“Hehehe, hahaha!!”

Mugung’s laughter echoes manically, his mouth wide open, teeth bared in a wild grin. His gaze, bloodshot and intense, pierces through the gaps of his fingers, locked onto the King of Trees. His hand rests on his forehead, a gesture of mirth or disbelief.

“Damn you, you’ve managed to claw your way back to life.”
“……”
“Lee Si-heon.”

Upon hearing his name, the king’s hand involuntarily twitches. His aura intensifies as the swordsmen on either side unsheath their blades.

One of them warns, his voice laced with menace.

“Remain still. Mugung has something to say—”

Before he can finish, a projectile flies in, piercing the swordsman’s forehead.

– Thwack!

The wooden shaft, having penetrated the nasal bone, hurls the swordsman backward. Fragments of bone and brain matter scatter. Blood splatters Mugung’s form, but he remains undeterred, his gaze fixed on the king.

“Damn you!”
“Stay still. Young man.”

Mugung halts the remaining swordsman. The king, pulling the bloodied shaft from his body, queries,

“Have you come seeking death?”
“Hehehe. I am far from being that feeble. I hear there’s a man capable of toppling a kingdom that has prospered for a lifetime. How could I resist the curiosity? How could I not seek him out, not converse?”

Having said this, Mugung glances sideways. His gaze lands on the dead swordsman, and he clicks his tongue in apparent regret.

“A needless loss of blooming talent. And one that I had nurtured, no less…”

The king merely observes Mugung, refraining from any offensive move. The tension hangs heavy, hinting at an imminent bloodbath, but since the swordsman’s demise, no line has been crossed.

“That is fortunate.”
“What is fortunate?”
“That you are still alive. No, that your presence in this world remains.”

Mugung sealed his lips.

“Even after two centuries of existence, this exhilaration remains constant. Indeed.”

The instantaneous delight of a plan flowing as intended.
Madness danced in Mugung’s eyes.

Lee Si-heon, whom he believed he had slain, was alive. An entity worthy of notice by the World Tree and Flower. The fact that King Mokryeong was none other than Lee Si-heon, was indeed a matter of great celebration.

“So, how did I meet my end?”
“…”
“The stranger from another realm, you, it must be. You would certainly have taken my life.”
“Always a distasteful fellow.”

The old man, as if a word laced with loathing could serve as a compliment, began to chuckle once more. His insanity was so profound it seemed almost manic.

Disconcerting.
The Mugung as depicted by the King of Trees couldn’t be fully expressed by that term alone.

As significant as his role was in the nation of Korea, his fixation towards the nation was truly monumental.

A world in collapse.
The birth of King Mokryeong.
The conflict between the Flower and the World Tree.

In a world teetering on the brink of annihilation, his eyes accurately read and discerned the currents of time. To Mugung, who had transcended realms, the World Tree was neither more nor less than a tool.

A henchman of the World Tree? A pitiful creature who knelt before the gods?
Although many warriors criticized him, in the end, only Mugung survived.

The victor.

Maliciousness, guile, skill, and cunning. All these attributes within Mugung were the reasons for his survival after toppling the mighty Heavenly Demon.

“I never understood till the end why you were so obsessed with this country.”

Mugung’s eyes narrowed at the king’s words. Bending over, he scooped up a handful of dirt strewn around haphazardly. A sprout, grown within the cracks of the shattered asphalt, was mixed with the soil he held in his hand.

“This land is my roots and blood. My everything. It is what I have achieved by dedicating everything.”

The reason Mugung laughed so heartily upon seeing Lee Si-heon was nothing significant.

“I never valued this old bastard’s life from the start. Even after the downfall of the World Tree and the dawn of the next era, Korea must endure.”

During the era of the World Tree, Mugung was essential. Someone was needed who would dirty his hands before anyone else and eliminate competitors. But in the next era, he was no longer required.

An empty husk.
His power was now futile.

The king, who had been quietly listening to Mugung’s words, questioned him.

“Speaking of which, the Star.”
“Hmm?”
“The Star did not die.”
“Hehe, seems like I must have ended that girl with my own hands in that world?”

The Star had met her end at Mugung’s hands.
However, the Star of this world did not die by Mugung’s hand.

Mugung revealed a chilling reality.

“It seems you must have appeared quite pathetic.”
“….”

Despite knowing that she was connected with Lee Si-heon, the fact that Mugung did not target her, but instead offered her the position of the Association’s president, was because he glimpsed the potential in Lee Si-heon.

“I’m always contemplating the one in ten. The notion of your return from the brink of death, and the possibility that you might yet ascend to the throne.”

If the celestial bodies yet live,
And if those stars continue to uphold Korea,

Should Lee Si-heon return and topple the current regime, even after Mugung’s demise, this nation could continue flourishing due to the star’s existence.
Did not even his granddaughter, Soo-yeon, harbor feelings of affection for him?

“The system requires a transformation, the bloodshed it incurs is trivial.”

It is an era where survival necessitates constant adaptation.
Korea, too, needed to break free from the embrace of the World Tree.

He entrusted the future of Korea to those two. Korea will gradually become a pawn under the king’s command.

And it will rise as a key country in the forthcoming society.

“Do you now comprehend?”

And so,
And so, he laughed.

The national arboreal emblem, the flower itself.
The eyes of the magnificent Mugunghwa pierced the world, actualizing its own will.

“…Is that so?”

The king responded in a hushed tone. Roots from the tree protruded from his bosom.

Mugung, with an unsettling smile, groped for his sword.

“And-“

His crimson eyes caught the moonlight, shimmering with a sorrowful glow.

“-Now it’s my turn.”

The cornerstone of Korea. Mugung.
He is a suppressor that until now has been unable to expand in any other direction.

With his extraction, Korea will undergo ceaseless metamorphosis.
Stagnant organizations will organically contort, compete, combat, and ultimately converge towards a single resolution.

That is what Mugung desires.
Devour as much as you wish.

Seeing Mugung’s eyes brimming with carnal delight, the king responded ruthlessly,

“You’re mistaken once more.”

For that scenario to manifest, I must be the first to meet death.

“This world, too, will soon crumble.”

– Swoosh!

The trunk of the tree extended.
The last standing swordsman leaped forward to shield Mugung, but it was too late.

A pointed awl stretched towards the creased skin of the old man.
Then, blood sprayed out.

Warm blood weaved like a spider’s web, forming a singular petal.
The feeble old man’s face spasmed. His shriveled muscles trembled before coming to a halt.
The Mugunghwa blooming in the back alley was crushed under the king’s foot, fading into nothingness.

Mugung’s eyes remained serene. Rather, without a single swing of the sword he held, as though ridiculing his adversary.
Unlike the young Heavenly Demon, Lee Si-heon, is he unworthy of engagement?
It seemed as if he was mocking the king, collapsed within his own world.

– Thud.

Mugung’s body fell from the wheelchair.

It was the moment the second titan fell.