Chapter 276 – World Parliament (1)

Sungchul rarely ever dreams at night.

When he does, it’s only ever nightmares.

For him, the only way to see the past is through reminiscence.

Sungchul does not like politics.

To be precise, he felt disgust.

Yet, for more than a decade, he had lived at the eye of the storm of the political world.

It was pure agony at the time, but reflecting upon it now, it might have been a meaningful and necessary experience.

Sungchul, for the first time in a while, was revisiting his past as the Imperial Commander in Chief, standing tall amidst the global politics, trying to recall his memories and experiences.

‘It won’t be easy.’

He had known it would be the most challenging hurdle ever since he first heard of the third Calamity.

Sungchul spent hours at his desk, contemplating every possible scenario that could arise in the World Parliament and devising ways to handle them.

As always, preparing for a meeting was never an easy task.

For a moment, Sungchul thought of a young girl who had once been by his side.

Craiya Kreigfreid.

The girl who always greeted him with a bright smile as he returned home exhausted from trying to help establish the World Parliament was the sole solace in Sungchul’s desolate heart.

Through that child, Sungchul was able to realize his faults that led to the death of Ryze Himerr, and as his way of repentance, for him to redeem himself, and for the sake of one and many childrens’ future, he chose to stand against the world and fight.

Of course, what he believed in turned out to be nothing more than a mirage.

Now, there is no Craiya by his side, and in his heart, there is no longer any guilt towards Ryze Himerr.

At present, Sungchul is driven by nothing but a faint sense of purpose, a mild sense of duty, a hint of curiosity, and the Cross of the Covenant embedded deep within his chest.

To Sungchul, he didn’t care what happens to the world. He dislikes humans.

Though circumstances forced him to save people, his dislike for humanity remained unshaken.

It was because he had been betrayed and burnt too many times.

While flowers can bloom even in mud, beauty cannot form from places twisted by burns and scars.

Yet, even someone like Sungchul found a comrade.

Sungchul stared at a book, motionlessly nestled within a bookshelf filled with Marakia’s fuzz.


At times, Sungchul imagined what it would be like without her.

Thinking coldly, on the surface, perhaps nothing would have changed. After all, he had lived his entire life setting goals and pursuing them relentlessly.

But Sungchul knew, that he has very little attachment left to this world.

He couldn’t even fathom what might happen if that last remaining strand of attachment were to snap.

Perhaps he would act like the many he has seen who have crossed a line.

For that reason, Bertelgia was now more precious to Sungchul than anyone else in the world.

Sungchul gazed at Bertelgia’s wound that was covered with Marakia’s bandage and whispered softly.

“Once this is over, let’s go to the Colossus. Let’s search for a cure there.”

Bertelgia did not reply. Perhaps she was deep asleep.

For a fleeting moment, a faint smile was about to grace Sungchul’s lips.

But then he recalled another book he’d met in the Tower of Recluse, and the words it had left behind.


A deep furrow formed between Sungchul’s brows.


At last, the destined day on the full moon of the month of the mountain goat, had arrived.

There was a dramatic change.

It was Sungchul’s attire.

He who was always dressed in ragged clothes like a beggar, today, he donned a refined and dignified uniform.

The uniform of the Imperial Commander in Chief.

To be precise, it was inspired by the old uniform of the Imperial Commander in Chief, a special garment prepared by McRaed the defacto ruler of the Eastern Alliance specifically for Sungchul.

“It seems to suit you well, doesn’t it?”


Sungchul’s expression wasn’t particularly bright.

The attire felt uncomfortable, and the gazes from his colleagues were burdensome.

But Sungchul was a mature man.

He wasn’t a fan of uniforms, but Sungchul knew when he needed to dress the part.

Most importantly, the World Parliament was convened by Sungchul himself; for the organizer to appear in his usual disheveled self would be no different than throwing mud on his own reputation.

“What’s this? Even you look somewhat imposing in this attire.”

Bertelgia commented as she circled around Sungchul who was dressed in his new clothes, evaluating him as if inspecting a product.

Marakia, for the time being, seemed to be still affected by the gift he had received from when they were in the God’s dungeon, and refraining from speaking.

However, when Sungchul wasn’t looking, he covered his mouth with his feathered hand, whispering something to Bertelgia, who then burst into laughter.

There was no doubt that he was gossiping and joking at Sungchul’s expense.

The uninvited guest, Tigon Bosborot, was not present. He and his priests were preoccupied with examining the traces of heresy in the aftermath of the advent of the Lesser God Sidmia and the resulting ruin and had no time to spare.

“I’ve said this before, but there might be almost no attendees.”

McRaed remarked, gazing at the eastern sky tinted as red as blood.

“It’s not confirmed, but many smaller nations perished with the advent of the Obelisks.”

McRaed was under the impression that the cause of the demise of small countries like the nearby Principality of Witroa was due to cataclysmic geological changes caused by the obelisk’s appearance.

She was completely unaware of the Order of Extinction’s involvement behind the scenes.

“···Regardless of how many, when the sun reaches its zenith, the World Parliament will commence.”

Sungchul was first to step into the theater designated as the venue for the World Parliament.

In the place where actors once performed the tales of the Seven Heroes and Clarice sang, a large table and twenty seats were set up.

There was no throne, but a place had been prepared in the center for Sungchul, who would serve as the chairman.

Sungchul sat in the middle of the table, waiting for time to pass.

How much time had gone by? A gentle breeze blew in from an open window, brushing past his hair.

From a distance, shouts were heard, and soon a messenger from the Eastern Alliance appeared, bowing to Sungchul to report.

“The prime minister of the Kingdom of Kinde has arrived.”

“The Kingdom of Kinde?”

It was an unfamiliar nation to Sungchul.

Sungchul soon recalled that this country was one of the smaller states located in the buffer zone between the Empire and the Ancient Kingdom to the northwest.

He nodded in acknowledgment.

‘Not even the minor nations are sending their kings.’

Still, it’s better than sending no one at all.

As noon approached, the number of attendees gradually increased.

Leading with the Kingdom of Kinde, envoys from five minor nations arrived, followed shortly by Hesserdein, the prince of the Elvan Confederation of Kingdoms.

Hesserdein’s arrival provoked a big reaction in the conference hall since he was the first envoy from a major nation to attend.

Already acquainted with Sungchul, Hesserdein gave him a friendly gaze before taking his seat. Behind him stood tall and dependable looking Elvan archers, guarding his back.

Meanwhile, the sun steadily rose, signaling the approach of noon.

By the well, soldiers from the Eastern Alliance stood watch, waiting for the sun to align with the center of the well.

‘Is this it?’

He had predicted it, but the participating nations were far too weak for something called the World Parliament.

It was when Sungchul was contemplating the sparse table before him and lost in thought.

Another gentle breeze blew in through the window.

“The Ancient Kingdom!”

A joyous shout rang out from afar.

‘The Ancient Kingdom, eh?’

A spark lit up in Sungchul’s eyes.

One of the two greatest human nations, alongside the Human Empire.

Following the Elvan Confederation of Kingdoms, another major nation has shown up. An unexpected boon for Sungchul, who hadn’t harbored much hope.

Soon, figures dressed in splendid attire of warriors, each brandishing multiple swords, appeared in the council chamber.

They carried with them an air of competent confidence befitting those from the country of Swordmasters.

Upon seeing the face of the man leading the group, Sungchul rose from his seat.

The reason he, who usually responded with a nod to most envoys, stood up was simple.

It was because the King of the Ancient Kingdom himself has personally come to attend. He was the first crowned king to arrive, from both major and minor nations.

“It’s been a while, Imperial Commander in Chief.”

Fourth Continental Champion, The Sword King, Arcanite.

Contrary to his title as the ‘Sword King’, the king of the Ancient Kingdom possessed a slender physique and brains-over-brawns appearance.

He glared at Sungchul with an arrogant expression as he gave his cold greeting.

Beside him was a face Sungchul knew all too well.

‘Is that…?’

Genghis Aaron.

A cunning man who used to serve as Sungchul’s superior officer on the Frontline of the Demon Realm. He attended the meeting as one of the envoys accompanying the king.

Upon locking eyes with Sungchul, Genghis Aaron gave a craven smile and nodded in acknowledgment, as if they were well-acquainted.

“As for this place, it’s shabby without equal. The prestige of the World Parliament is no more.”

Arcanite spat out these disdainful words and took a seat in a corner of the negotiation chamber.

The Swordmasters exaggerated their rigid martial discipline as they guarded the king’s back.

“What of the Empire? Are they attending?”

Arcanite inquired, stroking his finely trimmed beard and tilting his head curiously.

“The Empire is not participating,” replied Sungchul.


The Ancient Kingdom feigned surprise and turned his head.

His gaze landed directly on a young woman seated on the opposite side, her hair the color of burning embers.

It was McRaed.

She was present as the representative of the Eastern Regions.

Both she and Sungchul wanted for her to be present.

“This lady is unfamiliar to me.”

The king of the Ancient Kingdom remarked in his characteristically cold tone.

McRaed rose from her seat to introduce herself.

“I was once the princess of Ixion. I am known by the name McRaed.”


The king of the Ancient Kingdom chuckled softly.

He was looking down on her for representing a minor country that couldn’t begin to compare to a major power like the Ancient Kingdom.

Unshaken, McRaed continued her introduction.

“But now, I am the leader of the Coalition of the Eastern Regions.”

“The Coalitions of the Eastern Regions?”

In response to Arcanite’s question, McRaed nodded and calmly said with a measured voice,

“It is a coalition of all the countries and people of the East who the former World Parliament decided to abandon.”

At this, Arcanite flashed a sardonic smile and turned his head away.

A cold tension flowed and passed through the hall.

Bertelgia approached Sungchul and whispered in a hushed voice,

“That man with the crown, he’s so rude.”

“Arrogant, perhaps. But he is a character with both courage and insight.”

Indeed, he was an unpleasant individual.

Despite his nation being weaker than the Human Empire, he looked down upon it because he disrespected the Emperor for being a Summoned.

But he is not a figure to judge merely by appearances.

Behind his natural arrogance was the meticulous calculation and gall befitting a king of a nation.

Otherwise, how could the king of a nation dare to come here in person?

At this place was the formidable Enemy of the World, one who stood alone against a hundred thousand demons. Just by being present in this place spoke volumes about the caliber of the Ancient Kingdom’s ruler.

In contrast, even the overwhelming crisis unfolding in the Elvan Confederation of Kingdoms and needing to beg for Sungchul’s assistance was still not enough motivation for the elvan king to come in person out of fear. The king of the Ancient Kingdom was extraordinary beyond doubt.

Nonetheless, time flowed once more, and before they knew it, the sun had taken its position at the center of the well.

A soldier observing the well declared the arrival of noon, and hearing this, a trumpeter raised his trumpet, sending a powerful blast into the skies.


It was finally noon.

It was time for the World Parliament to begin.

But even before the trumpets finished announcing the time, even more attendees arrived without a warning.

“I apologize for my late arrival, kings of the continent.”

The shrill cry of an old crone echoed throughout the hall.

People unanimously directed their gazes towards the entrance, perturbed by the unpleasant voice of the elderly woman.

A woman stood tall among the guards, adorned in a flamboyant robe of various hues and wearing a mask engraved with indecipherable characters.

The only person aside from Sungchul to recognize this unwelcome guest was the King of the Ancient Kingdom.

“Who’s this? Is it not Chairwoman Aquiroa? I’ve heard rumors of your death, yet here you are alive and well.”

His cold and sarcastic demeanor was directed at the new participant without exception.

‘I had a feeling this might happen.’

The event he had feared came to pass.

The third Aquiroa appeared.

But she wasn’t alone.

Behind Aquiroa, a man with a towering stature and massive build, clad in armor, revealed himself.

The armor, more befitting that of a wandering knight than that of a king, was old and covered in dust. This man wore a helmet through which nothing inside was visible.

While the man was just as unfamiliar to the representatives of the minor and newly established nations as Aquiroa, unlike her, many recognized this legendary figure.

“The Wandering King…!”

“Is that the Wandering King…?!”

The hall, already astir from Aquiroa’s entrance, plunged into further chaos at the unexpected arrival of the Wandering King.

The long trumpet sound that marked noon had not yet ceased.

Then, a man rose from his seat.

It was Sungchul.

He walked forward, in full view of everyone, and stopped before Aquiroa and the Wandering King.

And with a calm tone, he said,

“You weren’t invited.”

Sungchul walked past Aquiroa, disregarding her.

A complete and utter apathy.

Aquiroa was irrelevant and Sungchul’s focus was entirely affixed to the Wandering King.


From within the Wandering King’s opaque helmet, a faint light flickered.

Sungchul and the Wandering King.

The two men who formerly represented the World Parliament as the third Continental Champion and the tenth Continental Champion, now stood facing each other.

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