Chapter 3180 — Chapter 3180 Slither of Doubt

If there was one thing he knew, it was that great things couldn't be achieved alone. Even the great gods had banded together to fight the Void — so how could mere mortals like him hope to carry the burden of change on their own?

So, being used as a tool by his father and despised by his brothers, he endured their scorn and set out to find reliable allies in secret.

At first, he found those few among the officials who had not relinquished their honor yet. With their help, he established a small, hidden network of agents and informants. And when information from all corners of the kingdom flowed into his modest courtyard, he identified those who could help him rally the people and stop the tyrant, his father.

The people were not blind to injustice, after all, and strength was not granted exclusively to nobles. There were those among common folk who wielded great power and felt the same way he did — who wanted to help their kingdom, but were granted no recourse.

He approached them in secret, but with a sincere heart. And, perhaps moved by his sincerity, they agreed to join him.

There was a warrior who hunted the Creatures of Corruption in the mountains to protect people.

There was a beautiful and kind priestess of Heart God who soothed those who were in pain.

There was a wise scholar who lived in exile, having been dismissed from court...

And many more.

He gathered them, he won the support of the people, he did his best to protect the kingdom from the atrocities committed by the corrupt nobles.

And, when the moment was right, he rose in rebellion against the king.

The revolt was swift, but bloody — it couldn't have been peaceful, no matter how much he wished that it was. Many of his comrades and companions lost their lives, and at times, it seemed like all of them would perish. But he never lost faith in their cause. He never lost his composure, either, leading the rebels with a clear mind and a steady hand.

In the end, their despair turned to triumph. They won — not only because their cause was virtuous, but also because their adversary was corrupt. In the end, the king could only rely on the princes to suppress the rebellion, but the princes were loyal to no one but themselves. They turned on each other in secret, and in the end, even the king could not save himself from the treachery of his sons.

The weakest of them — the Crown Prince, whom everyone disregarded — was the only victor in the end. With the tyrant dead and the corrupt nobles purged, his comrades bowed as they begged him to take the throne.

Thus, he became king.

Sitting on the throne and feeling the weight of the crown pressing down on him, he felt a sense of bitter irony. He had never wanted to rule, and he had never wanted to spill blood either. But, in the end, such was his fate...

Perhaps that was the only kind of ruler who could be good — someone who did not want the crown, but was forced to put it on for the sake of others.

The rebellion, the coronation — all of it was merely a means to an end. His true goal was to alleviate the suffering of his people, and so, now was the time for his true work to begin.

Having become king, he ruled to the best of his ability. He ruled wisely and with the well-being of his subjects in mind. His former companions became the pillars of the kingdom, and for a long time, life was good.

There were problems, naturally. There were Creatures of Corruption hiding in the darkness, there were natural calamities. There were neighboring kingdoms who looked at what others possessed with greed. But with a wise ruler and powerful champions, his kingdom weathered all storms.

In time, he married his dearest companion, the blessed priestess of Heart God. The wise scholar was his most trusted advisor. The mighty warrior was his general and the leader of the kingdom's defenders. Everything seemed to be going well...

Until, one day, a worm of doubt found its way into his mind.

It began innocently enough. He used to be confident in his decisions, but at some point, he began questioning if he was doing his best. One wrong choice could doom innumerable people, after all — so, it was only natural for him to want to be as diligent as he could be.

But once he began doubting himself, it wasn't long before he began doubting others as well.

After all... if he was mistaken, if some of his decisions did not benefit the kingdom, then why did everyone remain silent?

Did he not have advisors, loyal subjects, and friends? Weren't they supposed to help him keep the kingdom on course?

He became indecisive, often wearing a troubled expression.

Doubt whispered insidiously into his ear.

‘Why has no one spoken out?’

His old comrade, the learned scholar. His wise and gentle wife. His friend, the fearless warrior... why had they ignored all his mistakes?

Was it simply because they had not noticed them? Was their faith in him too strong?

Or did they not care?

...Or was there another, more sinister reason?

That was how he began to doubt even those who were closest to him. And once he began doubting them, he saw things he had not noticed before.

Wasn't his wife laughing too eagerly when conversing with the mighty warrior? Wasn't the warrior standing too closely, and looking at her too often?

‘No, it couldn't be...’

But what if it was?

Wasn't the scholar suggesting reforms that were a little too bold, a little too vague in their implementation? Things that looked innocent in and of themselves, but painted a perilous picture when put together?

Like offering more independence to the warriors of the kingdom. Sure, it would enhance their ability to act swiftly... but wouldn't it also give their leader more control over the kingdom, while stripping authority from the crown?

‘Surely not. And what if it does? I trust my friend implicitly, so why does it matter how much control he has?’

Implicitly...

But why would he need to have independent authority?

Didn't the mighty warrior trust his friend, the king, implicitly as well?

His doubts grew deeper.

After a while, he grew quiet and withdrawn. He observed those around him, and the more he looked, the more their actions strengthened his doubt.

Until his doubt became suspicion.

He suspected that the queen harbored a secret love for the warrior.

He suspected that the warrior wanted the crown for himself.

He suspected that his advisor was cunningly trying to lead him astray.

The court officials, the maids, the soldiers, the priests...

He couldn't trust any of them.

They all wanted to see him gone.

‘How sad.’

In the throes of his suspicion, the king felt heartbroken and full of bitter regret.

He had spilled the blood of his brothers to save the kingdom from the greed of the corrupt nobility and the mad tyrant — of those whose hearts had been corrupted by power. But now that his comrades had tasted power themselves, they seemed to have succumbed to its temptation as well. So, what was he to do?

Defend the kingdom from that corruption? But how?

And so, he began doing things that he had never thought he would do. It was so alien and distasteful, in fact, that at time, he felt like he wasn't the one acting — as if his body moved on its own, his lips twisted into a smile themselves, and the words he spoke came from someone else.

From someone cunning, patient, and infinitely malevolent when it needed to be. He began by subtly manipulating those around him, like he had manipulated his father once. He instilled them with doubt, then turned them against each other, making them believe that there was intrigue and conspiracy abound.

Slowly, the atmosphere in the court changed. The previous harmony was gone, replaced by tension and hostility. He used that hostility to suppress the initiatives suggested by his old friend, the wise scholar, pulling the strings from behind the curtain to make it seem like it was the officials who rose against them, not him.

''I just don't understand.' the scholar once told him, full of frustration. 'It's like they all lost their minds!''

The king smiled soothingly, offering him a compassionate hand.

He promised to find out who was turning the court against his most loyal advisor. But, in secret, he began preparations to banish the scholar from court.

Then, he turned his gaze to the warrior.

His greatest champion wielded much more martial power than he himself possessed. So, he couldn't deal with the despicable traitor directly... instead, he used underhanded means to start a conflict with a neighboring kingdom. The battle was eventually won, and the adversary was forced to surrender a considerable tribute.

But, in the process, his general was grievously wounded, diminishing his fearsome strength.

Some soldiers had died in the process, as well as some innocent people. But what was there to do? Their lives were a necessary sacrifice for the future of the kingdom.

"This whole story smells," spoke the warrior, recovering from his wounds in the palace. "We never managed to find the bastards who burned the border village. Could it be that someone else was behind the attack?"

The king put an expression of somber concern on his face.

“If so... then it was someone who wanted to pit our two kingdoms against each other and benefit from the strife. We must stay vigilant in case these sinister forces make another move."

While the warrior was recovering, the queen tended to him — she was a priestess of Heart God, after all, as well as his former comrade.

Still... was there really a need for the queen to play the role of a healer personally?

The king watched silently, a dark and vicious darkness taking root in his heart.

The queen was beloved by the people, and their love alone gave her power and influence. So, he took precautions to undermine that influence.

Dealing with her was the easiest of all — after all, despite all her virtues, the queen had a lethal weakness. It was that she had failed to give him a heir. So, he spread a rumor that the queen was barren, pushing a few court officials into demanding that he take a second wife.

He rebuked them publicly, naturally...

But the damage was already done.

The queen's influence was shaken.

''Those vicious snakes!' the queen pleaded, both angered and hurt. 'How... how dare they!''

He held her in a loving embrace.

"Shh, my love. Don't listen to those fools. You are the only one for me — you know you are, forever..."

Just like that, all those who threatened his position were suppressed. If he wanted to get rid of them, all he had to do was twist the mood in the court faintly. He could banish the scholar; he could dismiss the warrior from his post. He could replace the queen with a new wife, sending her to spend the rest of her life in the Heart God's temple.

He was safe... and therefore, the kingdom was safe.

But, despite that, his doubts did not disappear.

They only grew stronger.

After all... why would he send the scholar away? Why would he dismiss the warrior? Why would he let the treacherous queen go?

So that they could unite and conspire against him together, just like they had done in the past?

And what about the court officials, who hid greed and ambition behind masks of loyalty?

What about the maid, the soldiers, the priests?

All of them... all of them...

All of them conspired against him.

All of them were waiting for the moment to bring him down.

The soldiers glanced at him when they thought he could not see, hiding vicious snarls. The court officials whispered in dark corridors, discussing treacherous schemes. The maids watched him like hawks as they served him food, as if choosing which dish to poison. The priests manipulated the minds of the people, hiding their ambitions behind the names of the gods.

His former friends were the worst of them all.

They were all traitors...

They all wanted to see him gone.

So, he did what he needed to do to protect himself.

On a dark winter night, he ordered the gates of the castle to be barred. The soldiers seemed confused by the order, but followed it anyway — he killed them as soon as the gates were lowered, destroying the mechanism that would allow someone to raise them again.

Then, he made his way to his living quarters.

The queen was still awake, so she smiled when he sat on the bed near her and reached forward to hug her.

Her smile faltered when his hands wrapped around her neck.

“M-my... my king!"

He returned the smile as he strangled the traitor, easily overpowering her attempts to break free.

It was peculiar, though... the queen was of a higher Rank than he was, so she should have been able to overpower him. However, a dire strength overcame him, turning his grip into an iron vice. No matter how she struggled, it was all for naught.

It must have been virtue that aided him, while her own strength was stolen by treachery.

“My... m—my king..."

Once the queen was dead, he finally felt some of his doubt subsiding.

‘Ah...’

He should have done this a long time ago. He should have killed them all.

And so, he did.

His friend, the warrior, was still weak from his wounds. So, it wasn't that hard to carve him into pieces with a sharp blade.

The scholar was supposed to be wise, and yet he failed to predict the moment of his death. Once his corpse fell to the floor, his skull split open, the king smiled.

"Traitors, traitors..."

There were traitors everywhere.

And so, he killed them all — the soldiers, the maids, the officials, the priests.

During the darkest hours of the night, the castle was full of screams of terror. Some tried to run, some tried to resist... but they all died, in the end. That was because he was suddenly full of an awful, insurmountable power.

When everyone was dead, he stood in the middle of the throne room, covered in blood.

He was laughing... laughing in relief.

‘Oh, right. There is one more traitor left...’

There was one more person he doubted. So, he raised his blade and brought it down on his own head, splitting it open.

Blood poured from the wound.

Something else poured out of it, as well...

‘What is it?'

It was silk.

Beautiful black silk spilled to the floor, blood glistening on its fine threads like jewels. Then, something moved inside his head, and a breathtaking creature emerged. Spreading its wings and shaking the blood, the bone shards, and the brain matter off them, it leaped off his head and soared into the air.

The king watched the beautiful moth fly, his eyes full of wonder.

‘So beautiful.’

He smiled before falling down.

The last thing he saw before being blinded by the dark splendor of the moth was its graceful silhouette disappearing into the vastness of the starry sky beyond the window.

'No...'

He didn't want to be apart from it.

He wanted to pursue it... to find it again... So, as his dead body began to twist and reshape itself, the king climbed the wall and dove into the window.

He rushed toward the distant mountains.

However, even as thousands of years passed...

He had never caught sight of the beautiful moth again.