The Founding Monarch Became the Mastermind

Chapter 2

Si-on thought about the first time he came to this world.

Another World Saga.

Commonly known as AWS, he was forcefully transported into this world.

He regretted not thoroughly understanding the game introduction and the overall storyline.

He knew almost nothing about this world.

He had only signed up for the beta test because of the realistic graphics, innovative system, and thrilling action.

Having forgotten about it due to his busy daily life, he had logged in when he saw a text message on the day of the test.

And less than ten minutes after logging in, he realized he wasn’t just playing a game; he had been transported into the world of AWS, possessed by the character “Si-on,” which he had painstakingly created.

There was no time to wonder about clichés like ‘Why?’ or ‘Why me?’

He was too busy trying to survive in a harsh world devoid of any game-like elements, such as status windows or stats.

During this time, Si-on couldn’t agree that this world was a game created by someone.

It wasn’t because of the realistic nature and environment, which were unbelievable even for VR.

It was the people.

The people Si-on met and experienced in this world weren’t just pieces of data made of 0s and 1s.

They were real people with reason and emotion.

The joy, sadness, anger, ecstasy, and glory he felt with them…

To Si-on, all those things were real.

And above all, the pain.

Si-on had died twice.

The first death occurred three days after arriving in this world at the hands of bandits.

He still couldn’t forget the cold yet simultaneously burning sensation of the blade that pierced his belly.

The pain of being devoured by wild animals that came to the scene after the bandits had left was still vivid, as if it happened yesterday.

The excruciating pain was real.

Thus, he realized that the claims in comics or novels that one would willingly endure the pain of death because they couldn’t die were all lies.

Si-on resurrected half a day after his first death, grateful that he was immortal but resolved never to die again due to that pain.

That resolve became firmer after he died again in a war he participated in as a mercenary, where he was dismembered.

Even when stabbed by a sword, he recovered much faster than other people in this world.

And though he could regenerate lost body parts in just a few days, the pain never became familiar.

Moreover, this world was a place where pain wasn’t just prevalent but routine.

It was a savage world where brutal violence raged in chaos.

In such a place, where death and pain could strike at any moment, Si-on saw only one way to prevent it.

He had to become stronger.

He sought out renowned warriors from all over, begging to learn from them.

Knights, mercenaries, assassins, fighters…

Some drove him away, while others used him as a servant.

Yet, Si-on strived to learn even a single technique from these experts in violence and killing.

And it was during those times that Si-on discovered he didn’t age.

The character he created upon connecting to AWS, which had now become his own body, ‘Si-on,’ remained at the age of 26, the age initially set.

His hair grew long, and his beard continued to grow if left unchecked, but his body did not age.

Therefore, no matter who he learned from, he never extended his training period beyond three years. Any longer, and his immortality could be discovered.

Some allowed him to leave when he said he would, while others, reluctant to lose a diligent, unpaid slave, tried to forcibly keep him.

Most of the latter died.

Though he wanted to avoid killing as much as he did enduring pain and death, after living in this world for over a decade, he had grown accustomed to making choices to protect himself.

Perhaps because his mind had grown stronger along with his body, Si-on did not suffer from PTSD, despite having killed. He only felt slight discomfort and displeasure.

Thus, nine years passed as he learned from five masters, killing three of them, and Si-on grew stronger.

And around that time, the Dark Dragon Vyuslek, known as the Spirit of Ash, appeared in the world.

“Was that 65 years ago? No, was it 64?”

Si-on mumbled as he poked at the campfire with his blurred eyes.

Having just witnessed his eldest son’s final moments, memories of the past kept resurfacing.

“Theo, my son…”

Thinking of his son brought back the searing pain of loss that scorched his chest.

Si-on’s original surname was Jang. He had taken it from the priest who had taken him in as an orphan.

His name, Si-on, was also given to him by the priest in the Christian tradition.

So, for his firstborn, who had given him the profoundly special feeling of having ‘parents,’ he named him Jang Theo.

His first son, Theo, had such a special meaning.

Of course, when Si-on had heard that his youngest daughter, Maria, had been the first of his children to die in an accident, he had experienced indescribable pain.

Visceral grief—such agony that the intestines felt as though they were tearing, the pain that comes when a parent loses a child.

Si-on knew that such deep pain and sorrow truly existed.

He felt the same pain when his second son, Su-un, died of illness six years ago, and the pain of losing Theo remained unchanged.

He had already lost two children, so he had steeled himself for it, yet Theo had lived a long life compared to his younger siblings, Su-un and Maria, who had gone before him.

Now only his second daughter, Tirsa, was left, but Si-on had no intention of visiting her, as she was now a grandmother.

Although he missed Tirsa and his many grandchildren, unlike his children, his grandchildren did not know him.

The Si-on Duchy, and the future, now belonged to them.

He had to continue the resolution he had made when he left the duchy with his wife decades ago.

Most importantly, he no longer had the strength to watch his blood relatives age and die before him.

—Live your own life now.

His late wife, Stella’s last words, who had died twenty years ago, suddenly came to mind.

She could have asked him to watch over their children and the duchy…

But she thought of him until her final breath.

“That’s just like you.”

Si-on murmured softly and stopped stirring the campfire, lifting his head.

The moonlight in this world, unpolluted by atmospheric and light pollution, greatly aided night vision.

When the full moon was out, there was barely any need for lanterns or torches, even outdoors.

And conversely, when the moon was absent, it also had a significant impact.

It provided darkness so complete that one couldn’t see an inch ahead.

Although there was a campfire, the forest beyond its reach was enveloped in darkness.

But not for Si-on, whose physical abilities had reached the realm of superhumans.

During his time growing stronger, learning from his masters and fighting in battles, Si-on’s physical abilities had undergone a series of awakenings.

His overall physical capabilities had advanced so dramatically that they could almost be called evolution.

Thus, as he reminisced about the past, his sharp hearing perfectly captured the faint noises made by unwelcome guests approaching slowly from about 50 meters away.

Now that they were only about 20 meters away, Si-on could see through the darkness and discern the faces of the intruders hidden in the bushes.

“Six of them. All armed.”

The man who had been mourning his deceased wife and son moments ago was gone.

With a gaze as cold and still as ice, Si-on slowly stood up.

Noticing their master’s change in mood, or perhaps sensing the intruders, one of the two horses stirred and clumsily got up.

“Why is it standing? Did it sense something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How could it see us from there, without being an owl?”

“We strike all at once. Everyone get ready.”

The whispers of the intruders reached his ears.

They must have thought that Si-on couldn’t hear them (and indeed, no ordinary person would have), but Si-on detected not just their conversation, but also their tense, excited breathing and the intent to kill.

‘When was it?’

Taking a step toward the bushes where the intruders were hiding, Si-on recalled the first time he sensed the aura of killing intent.

‘Ah, Verat. That’s right. It was Verat.’

The third master, Verat, a legendary assassin (not his real name, of course), was a born killer, and it was under his tutelage that Si-on learned to sense killing intent.

Upon discovering that Si-on was a “chosen one” like himself, Verat had tried to kill him, but ultimately failed and was killed by Si-on instead.

The reason was simple.

Si-on was not the same kind of person as Verat.

He was a superior being.

It was a realization that dawned on him at the moment of Verat’s death.

Si-on hadn’t just succeeded in sensing killing intent.

He had also managed to ‘release’ his own killing intent and use it, a skill Verat had not anticipated, leading to his death.

“Ugh!”

“Gah! Grrrk!”

Three steps.

Si-on had taken only three steps, and groans erupted from the bushes where the intruders were hiding.

“Haah……”

“Huh, huhh.”

Two of the intruders, clutching their throats and chests, collapsed to their knees or fell backward.

The two who had managed to move were in a relatively better condition.

The remaining four, still clutching their crude weapons, were frozen in place.

Their eyes, bloodshot and wide, stared ahead as if they had turned to stone.

But Si-on could see that they were trembling slightly.

An invisible force—the killing intent Si-on had projected—had paralyzed them.

Swoosh. Swish.

With a series of light movements, the intruders fell one by one without any resistance.

The men whose throats and hearts were pierced died without even uttering a scream.

Five men died like that in the dark forest, leaving only one.

“……!”

Si-on looked down at the lone survivor, who was trembling on the ground like a frog.

He was noticeably smaller than the five men Si-on had just killed.

Si-on, staring down at him for a moment, casually swung his sword to shake off the blood.

“Guh! Hahh…”

At that signal, the man who had been unable to move finally began to breathe heavily and tried to get up.

But he could only manage a hunched sitting position, unable to stand.

Because in the pitch-dark night, eyes glowing a chilling blue were staring at him.

“Hiek!”

The man—or rather, the boy who had yet to even go through his coming-of-age ceremony—let out a scream and wet himself.

It was fortunate that he hadn’t eaten well for days; otherwise, he would have soiled himself further.

‘Thirteen or fourteen.’

In Korean terms, he looked like a middle school first-year student, caught among a gang of murderous robbers in the middle of the night.

Such was the world here.

Judging by the appearance of the boy and the others Si-on had killed, they didn’t seem to be truly vicious criminals.

They were probably refugees who had fled from somewhere.

Of course, that didn’t excuse their banditry.

“……Go. If I see you again, you’ll die.”

A warning far more effective than any threat.

“Eek! Eeeek!”

The boy, still unable to gather himself, crawled away frantically.

Si-on let him go because he was the only one of the six attackers who didn’t harbor murderous intent.

Judging by his age and appearance, he had likely been forcibly dragged along.

Si-on did not kill those without murderous intent.

Even in this savage world steeped in violence, Si-on had always lived by this single principle.

After the boy’s figure disappeared completely from sight, he turned away.

Si-on strolled back to the campfire, his steps calm and unhurried, a stark contrast to someone who had just killed five men.

The smaller horse that had been tense for a moment neighed as if to welcome its master back, but the large black horse was still sprawled by the campfire, pretending to be asleep.

But Si-on knew that the black horse, which had carried him for the past five years as the third in its line, was only pretending to sleep.

“This rascal, lying down while its master’s fighting? Should I smack it one?”

The black horse flinched, as if it understood Si-on’s words.

But it even stuck out its tongue, going so far as to feign unconsciousness.

Unlike its loyal father, this black horse was cunning like a demon, and Si-on chuckled at it, gently stroking the other horse that nuzzled against him, finally reassured.

“Don’t become like that rascal, Yellow. Come on, let’s get going. Get up, you rascal.”

The black horse, which had been sticking its tongue out, licked its lips and stood up.

Cunning as it was, it was still absolutely obedient to Si-on’s commands, just like its father and grandfather.

Si-on packed his belongings, extinguished the fire, and mounted the black horse in one swift motion.

Judging by how the boy had fled, it seemed unlikely he would return to his original group; he would likely run away forever. But Si-on had no interest in needless complications.

Regardless, killing wasn’t pleasant, and it was even less so now, just a day after his own son’s death.

On a day like today, he might end up becoming a true murderer, capable of killing dozens or hundreds without a second thought.

—Live your own life.

The life his wife had spoken of was not the life of a murderer.

“Huu.”

Taking a light breath, Si-on left the area with his two horses.

Resolving that this was his final time in the Si-on Duchy, the land he had built, and that he would never return, the immortal departed.