Kyoto’s morning was silent. In the ancestral, centuries-old manor of the Renjo family, a bizarre confrontation was unfolding within its deepest, most meticulously kept tea room. On one side, I sat quietly, accompanied by Alessandro Gaspare. Opposite us sat Soun Renjo, a man with hair as white as frost, seated in a perfect, unwavering posture. Behind him, the clan’s elite warriors stood like a folding screen, though the tension bleeding from their eyes was impossible to hide.
Bringing him here had been anything but smooth. Kaoru Shinomiya, acting as the interim chairperson, had requested the elder’s presence, but he had dismissed the summons with a sneer.
"Does a fledgling King dare to tell me where to go or stay?"
That insulting reply had been his only answer. Ultimately, Alessandro had to personally tear through every barrier protecting the manor and suppress his warriors until they couldn’t move a single muscle before Soun Renjo finally deigned to show his face to me.
Even so, not a hint of fear touched the old man's face. Instead, he scrutinized me with the eyes of a man admiring a well-aged antique as he filled his own teacup and began to speak.
"Indeed, you are young and brimming with vitality. I wondered what kind of hero the King who slew a god would be, but to think you are merely a green youth still smelling of the cradle. I intended to save you the trouble of coming all this way, yet you clearly lack the fundamental grasp of etiquette."
I didn't answer. It was the same venomous arrogance and twisted sense of elitism I had heard from Sugiura yesterday. The very root of it was sitting right in front of me. I decided to listen to the end, to hear exactly what kind of foolishness this old man would vomit out.
There was no need for me to open my mouth first and ruin his little play. A man who enjoys setting the stage and manipulating others will inevitably boast of his own greatness if given the space to do so.
Mistaking my silence for affirmation, Soun Renjo continued with a satisfied expression.
"This was merely a 'test' and an 'investment.' For hundreds of years, we have poured our blood into crowning a King for this nation. We sacrificed countless geniuses and researched every hidden rite to bring about the descent of a god. Yet, the Heavens saw fit to bestow a King upon a primitive land that has made no effort at all. Verifying whether that vessel is worthy of sitting upon a throne is the natural duty of the Renjo family, the ones who have led the magical world of this country."
He paused briefly, his eyes weighing me like a merchant assessing goods.
"And the result of the test exceeded expectations. You displayed power that transcended our calculations. Now that your qualifications have been proven, I shall make you an offer. If your strength were combined with the intelligence and strategy of the Renjo family, ruling the night of this world would be no mere dream. We shall grant you the right to sit upon the throne."
The moment his final words left his lips, I reached my verdict.
Until the very last second, this old man failed to comprehend the nature of the existence he was facing. The dialogue was over. All that remained was 'liquidation.'
I muttered softly.
"Qualifications, you say..."
I looked him directly in the eye and delivered not a warning, but my first 'sentence.'
"Who are the likes of you to dare discuss the qualifications of a King?"
My voice, cold and sunken, caused Soun Renjo’s brow to furrow.
"What did you say?"
I no longer found any value in talking to him. Instead of killing him outright, I leaned back in my chair. Then, with a voice like shards of ice, I pronounced a punishment worse than death.
"Shinomiya."
At my call, Kaoru Shinomiya, who had been waiting outside the tea room, entered and knelt.
"Yes, my King."
"As of today, the History Compilation Committee is dissolved. I delegate all authority to you. You are to reorganize the structure as its head, and it shall become my direct subordinate institution. This is your first order: Erase the Renjo family from this land. Confiscate all their assets, strip them of every position within the organization, and negate all authority that follows their name. Those who side with them are my enemies, and those who show them mercy are also my enemies."
My command was brief. However, the absolute weight contained within it caused Shinomiya’s shoulders to tremble slightly. It was the decree of a supreme being, a command to rewrite the history of a nation's magical society. Yet, she did not hesitate.
"...I shall fulfill your command."
Listening to the exchange between Shinomiya and myself, the blood finally drained from Soun Renjo’s face. He understood perfectly what I was about to do.
I wasn't killing him. I wasn't even literally stealing his power. Instead, I was going to force him to watch, as a powerless old man, as everything he had built his entire life—his name, his family, his influence—shattered into pieces before his eyes. His peers would turn their backs, his subordinates would refuse to obey, and his enemies would bare their fangs. It was a disgrace worse than death, an eternal hell.
"You... You bastard...! Just kill me instead!"
He screamed in despair, but I didn't spare him another glance. To me, he was already no different from a corpse. I rose from my seat and spoke to Alessandro.
"Business is concluded. Let's go."
I left the tea room, leaving Soun Renjo in his pit of despair. Outside, Kaoru Shinomiya, the new owner of power, bowed deeply toward me with a complex expression on her face.
[Side Story]
One week later, Korea.
Four Divine Guardians Headquarters, 13th Basement Floor Central Hall.
In the exact spot where I had delivered judgment a week ago, the Chief of the Four Divine Guardians greeted me. His face was significantly more haggard than before, but his eyes were filled with desperate loyalty and a faint sense of relief at having proven his utility to the King.
"My King, we have finally found him."
What they dragged out was a middle-aged man. Despite being bound by mana-suppressing restraints, his gaze remained fiercely sharp. This was the 'seed' within the Four Divine Guardians who had manipulated Kang Tae-jun from behind the scenes. He was a mole planted by the Renjo family over a decade ago: a man named Kotaro Sasayaki.
The Chief forced him to his knees before me and reported.
"This man, under Renjo’s orders, aggravated Team Leader Kang Tae-jun’s past trauma and instigated him to orchestrate the entire incident! We have secured all evidence from his memories using every psychic at our disposal."
He took a breath and reported the results of their 'disposal.'
"Furthermore, the Project Damocles department, which offended the King, has been dissolved. We have confiscated the assets of all involved members, closed their mana circuits, and rendered them cripples. Team Leader Kang Tae-jun has suffered a total mental collapse and is currently confined in a psychiatric ward. He will never be able to step out into the world again."
Sasayaki glared at me, spitting out curses as if vomiting blood.
"Because of you, Elder Renjo...! Our grand ambition to establish a Great Japanese Order in this primitive land...! Just you wait, a new King will eventually descend and bring you to judgment!"
I didn't even find his noise worth listening to. I simply sat on the throne, chin resting on my hand, looking down at him. I asked the Chief standing beside me.
"While interrogating this man, what did he fear most?"
"...Pardon? Ah, that is... he feared the exposure of his identity and bringing shame to his motherland and family above all else. He is a man who considers the breaking of his convictions a disgrace worse than death."
"I see."
I stood up and approached the man. Looking directly into his eyes, I softly whispered a divine incantation.
"Ye who behold me, ye who stand before me—turn to stone and fall silent!"
In that instant, the man's eyes were dyed with terror. His body hardened into ash-gray. However, unlike the others, I held his consciousness fast until the very end. Though his flesh became stone, his mind would remain eternally alive within that lithic prison, forced to chew forever on the disgrace of his broken convictions, his abandonment by his country, and his judgment at the hands of those he considered insects.
His face, frozen with a final curse, became a perfect block of stone, stopped in time.
I spoke to the Chief.
"Set this up in the lobby of your headquarters. Let everyone remember forever the fate of those who challenge the King and how miserable the end of a traitor truly is."
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