The Founding Monarch Became the Mastermind

Chapter 132

Earl Rundel was a coward.

He was one of the Grand Lords of the Kingdom of Obla, a former Minister of Internal Affairs, wielding immense power and influence. He was even the maternal uncle and de facto guardian of the Crown Prince. And yet, he was a coward?

The very idea was laughable.

Earl Rundel was the epitome of nobility—always composed, dignified, and admired by countless aristocrats. How could such a man be called a coward?

It might sound absurd, but it was the undeniable truth.

Of course, it wasn’t that he feared just anyone.

Earl Rundel harbored deep-seated terror only toward those whom he instinctively recognized as being definitively "above" him.

He was utterly terrified of situations beyond his control and of individuals who created such situations.

So, who was capable of instilling such fear in the great Earl Rundel?

The King.

At least within the Kingdom of Obla, the only being beyond his control was the King.

Thus, from the very first moment he met the King, Earl Rundel had been consumed by overwhelming fear.

It wasn’t merely the same apprehension that other nobles felt toward their sovereign.

While he did fear the King as a "person," his greater terror stemmed from the King as a "presence"—a being capable of crushing him at any moment.

Simply standing before the King left him gasping for breath, his hands and feet trembling uncontrollably. At times, he even felt the shameful urge to wet himself—despite the King having done nothing at all.

Earl Rundel loathed this fear. Not the King himself, but his own fear of the King.

Yet as the Grand Lord and Minister of Internal Affairs, he couldn’t avoid the King. He had no choice but to deal with him. And in truth, his terror was so overwhelming that he couldn’t even bring himself to resist.

So, he pondered. How could he deal with a fear that would never go away?

After agonizing for days, he finally found an answer.

And the solution was surprisingly simple.

If the King was too frightening… why not install someone he wouldn’t have to fear as the next King?

Yes.

That was the fundamental reason Earl Rundel had subjected Philon to near-abusive discipline from childhood, shaping him into someone utterly dependent on him.

It was all because of his crippling fear of the King.

The mere thought of a monarch he didn’t fear, someone completely under his control, sitting on the throne…

That comforting image alone was enough to dull his terror, even if only slightly.

There had been some minor complications along the way, but it was virtually certain that Philon would be crowned.

And because of that certainty, he no longer trembled or felt the urge to wet himself whenever he thought of the King.

However…

Then came the emergence of a certain figure—Sir Salen, also known as "Whale."

Rumors began circulating that Sir Salen might be siding with Duke Lloyd. And when Duke Lloyd openly began supporting him…

Earl Rundel was struck with an unsettling realization—there was a chance that Duke Lloyd could become the next King.

A man with whom he had little connection and whom he couldn’t manipulate at will—Duke Lloyd!

Earl Rundel felt a long-dormant fear creeping back into his heart.

The horrific terror he had not experienced in years began consuming his body and mind once more.

That fear drove him into a state of restless urgency.

It was that urgency that led him to personally travel to August Estate.

It was that urgency that led him to decide to take Philon to Burgos.

And it was that urgency that made him lose his temper in front of his servants in Burgos, something he rarely did in public.

It was why, upon first meeting Sir Salen, he had so easily revealed his emotions and even made a reckless threat.

All of it stemmed from his fear.

Like a frightened dog desperately barking and baring its teeth to convince itself it wasn’t afraid…

Earl Rundel, consumed by terror for the first time in decades, could do nothing else.

Up until that point, he still believed he would eventually overcome his fear.

Why? Because the only thing he feared was "uncontrollable situations and the person who could create them"—in other words, the King.

But that was a mistake.

Not just a mistake—an utter miscalculation.

It turned out that Sir Salen was actually Duke Jang Si-on, an immortal being who neither aged nor died.

Had he been an ordinary noble or a commoner, Earl Rundel might have feared the mere existence of an "immortal being."

But that wasn’t the source of his terror.

Unlike the King, who would eventually die someday, this being was someone he could never control, in the truest sense.

And so, he felt a fear far greater, far more overwhelming than anything he had ever experienced before—greater even than his fear of the King.

And as with any overwhelming force, this fear inevitably produced an equal and opposite reaction.

Just as his fear of the King had once driven him to turn Philon into his puppet to claim the throne…

Now, the unimaginable terror he felt pushed him to find a way to eliminate it.

Hiding away in his territory for the rest of his life, as the immortal being had suggested, was not an option.

Why? Because doing so wouldn’t erase his fear. If anything, it would mean spending the rest of his days drowning in it.

And just as before, the answer revealed itself.

If this immortal being would exist for as long as he lived, then wouldn’t it be best to ensure that the being never had the time or reason to concern himself with him?

It was a conclusion as ridiculous as a cat hiding its head, believing that if it couldn’t see its pursuer, then it wouldn’t be seen.

But in his panic-stricken state, driven to madness by fear, it was the only solution Earl Rundel could grasp.

After all, ever since the current King had ceased appearing in public and delegated all his duties to his secretary, Earl Rundel had finally found peace of mind.

So, he desperately sought a way to ensure that this unfathomable being wouldn’t concern himself with him.

And once again, the answer came easily.

If he couldn’t overpower him through political influence, since the King was backing him…

Then there was only one power left to rely on—the authority of the gods!

That was why Earl Rundel ignored the warnings of the immortal Ancient Monster, why he frantically drove his carriage toward the capital, toward the Grand Temple—also known as the Central Church.

* * *

"So…."

High Priest Dilosys clenched and unclenched his sweat-drenched hands, his voice trembling.

“That nickname, ‘Whale’… Are you saying it was given because he’s lived for so long?”

“That’s right.”

“Surely, you must be mistaken. No matter what, how could a person live for nearly a hundred years…”

“It’s not just about being called ‘Whale.’”

“……?”

“There’s another term frequently mentioned alongside ‘Whale’ in the Information Guild—‘Dragon Palace.’”

“Dragon Palace? What does that have to do with anything…?”

“The ‘Dragon Palace’ refers to the Si-on Duchy, more precisely, the capital, Sionia.”

“……!”

“That’s right. Every time ‘Whale’ and ‘Dragon Palace’ were mentioned together, he was in the Si-on Duchy.”

“But even so, that alone isn’t… Hmm.”

Despite clearly half-believing it—no, despite having no choice but to believe it—the High Priest’s small, beady eyes gleamed slyly, as if he were still testing the waters.

Earl Rundel gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to slap the man across the face.

“He first appeared in Burgos, then disappeared into the Wastelands of the Dragon before resurfacing after seven years. During that time, numerous people testified that he had barely aged. Seven years! Seven whole years spent wandering a sun-scorched wasteland where the heat blazes down for eleven months of the year, and yet he showed no signs of aging. Do you think that’s possible for an ordinary human?”

“Hah!”

As the plump High Priest’s pale, bloated face contorted in a grotesque expression, Earl Rundel felt a strange sense of satisfaction and continued speaking.

“From Hender in the Si-on Duchy to the officials in the capital, even those of direct lineage who met him personally—they all showed him extreme reverence. Even if he were Sir Salen, would that make sense?”

“No… it wouldn’t.”

“Exactly, it doesn’t make sense. But.”

Earl Rundel, who had been speaking with a sneer, suddenly looked uneasy. Glancing left and right nervously, he lowered his voice and whispered in a trembling tone.

“All these impossible occurrences… they make perfect sense if he is Duke Jang Si-on himself.”

“…….”

High Priest Dilosys’s face hardened completely.

“Believe me. Duke Jang Si-on—he neither ages nor dies. At the very least, from the time of the Dark Dragon War until now, he has lived without aging even a day.

And throughout that time, he has continuously influenced our kingdom. He is a monster. That monster… he has his hands on the royal family and the kingdom—”

“But let’s think about this for a moment.”

High Priest Dilosys, who had been listening quietly, raised a hand.

Earl Rundel’s eyes twitched in irritation at the interruption just as he was getting to the real point, but the High Priest paid no mind and continued.

“If what you say is true, then isn’t he someone who, after passing the ducal title to his son, has lived in near silence for almost sixty years?”

“…That is true.”

“Yes, exactly. So then why—after all that time—would he suddenly reveal himself now?”

“Well, that’s—”

The High Priest cut him off again.

“If his intent was simply to intervene in and settle the Si-on ducal succession, then he should have either appointed Hender and disappeared again or stayed quietly within the duchy. But that’s not what happened, is it? True, only a handful of people have figured out his true identity, but he has still taken quite a public stance—enough that you, Earl, have come to relay this information to me. Why do you think that is?”

“I told you! That monster is trying to seize control of the royal family and the kingdom—”

“After spending sixty years in complete obscurity?”

“…….”

Earl Rundel fell silent.

High Priest Dilosys, staring into the Earl’s eyes burning with fear and hatred, spoke in a deliberately measured tone.

“I think I know why.”

“What…?”

Earl Rundel narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

The High Priest responded with a sly grin—something utterly unbefitting of a man of the cloth.

“I said, I think I know the reason.”

“…And what is that?”

The fleeting sense of triumph that had warmed Earl Rundel mere moments ago vanished like snow in the sun, leaving behind only humiliation.

Seeing this shift in the Earl’s expression, High Priest Dilosys’s grin deepened.

“This, you see, is one of the most confidential secrets within our church—something known to only a very select few.”

Even now, the High Priest was playing games, stalling for leverage.

Earl Rundel felt a genuine urge to kill him.

But the High Priest was the only one who could provide a way to eliminate his fear.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, his bloodshot eyes gleaming with suppressed rage, Earl Rundel forced himself to speak each word with deliberate clarity.

“I will demonstrate my unwavering faith to the Central Church.”

Naturally, that faith would be measured in gold. An amount worthy of such a classified revelation.

“Hahaha! What a noble sentiment. These days, so many foolish souls have strayed from faith. But if you, Earl, show such deep devotion, surely even those lost sheep will repent. Yes, indeed.”

The High Priest beamed, tracing the sign of the cross—a living embodiment of hypocrisy.

“So then. What is this reason you claim to know?”

Now satisfied, High Priest Dilosys, wearing an infuriatingly benevolent smile, finally spoke.

“For about a year now, there have been priests claiming to have seen the words of the Father in Heaven with their own eyes.”

“What do you mean…”

Earl Rundel trailed off, unable to outright dismiss it as nonsense.

“Just as you have shared the truth with me, Earl, I too will share a truth with you.

A very small number of priests—precisely three of them—have seen letters that have never existed in this world before.”

“……!!!”