I Start with 13 Hidden Traits Chapter-324

Ch-324 ⟨I Will Revive the ‘Round Table Knights’⟩

—

Hudson instinctively doubted his own ears.

From the past until now, he had dealt with enormous amounts of information.

To survive as a merchant in this world, one had to live with eyes and ears wide open.

Thorough investigation was essential, and judging the value and authenticity of information was crucial.

In handling information, Hudson was second to none.

And among all topics, he had poured particular effort into researching **Players**—which made the number he’d just heard feel utterly unreal.

After all—

*Not sixteen thousand. Not one hundred sixty thousand.*

**One point six million.**

Just over **1,000 SP** had been enough for Hudson to obtain the Unique Class *Grand Merchant*.

That, too, had been achieved via the optimal route outlined in Phantom’s guide.

For most classes, that was already the upper limit.

Even top-ranked players had started with less than **10,000 SP**.

No matter how recklessly someone ran Survival Runs, there was always a cap on initial SP.

According to Hudson’s research, the highest initial SP holder was **Gracia**.

*And even Gracia was said to have only about 80,000.*

Only eighty thousand.

Randolph had begun with **twenty times** that amount.

Just imagining it made Hudson dizzy.

*What can you even do with 1.6 million SP?*

SP was tied to talents and skills.

It was said to allow the awakening of classes, and even the acquisition of hidden traits.

Reaching the level of a *Master* required only about **10,000 SP**.

At **1.6 million**, you could quite literally do anything you wanted.

He was the SP world’s equivalent of an oil tycoon.

*And the real issue is that we still don’t know all the uses of SP.*

There were whispers going around.

That SP was just as important as the **Golden Scale**.

That as the game progressed into later stages, SP’s applications would expand dramatically.

Of course, for now, they were only rumors.

But Hudson found them highly credible.

Because there was no proper way to farm SP yet.

At best, you could gain small amounts through special quests or dungeons.

Either humanity hadn’t discovered the methods yet—or the updates simply hadn’t arrived.

Once they did, SP usage would inevitably expand.

Which meant that, at this point in time, **even 160,000 SP should have been impossible**, let alone 1.6 million.

…It *should* have been impossible.

*What’s even scarier is that this might not be all.*

Nearly a thousand Survival Runs.

Nurturing them. Standing at the very peak.

**1.6 million?**

Compared to the miracles he’d performed, that number might actually be *low*.

SP didn’t stand for Skill Points.

It stood for **Soul Points**.

A numerical representation of the value of a soul.

Which meant that acquiring 1.6 million Soul Points might not have been the end of it.

There was no way it amounted to merely twenty times Gracia’s.

It was far more likely he had obtained **something beyond that**.

What could it be?

Hudson couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“…So you’re saying, Mr. Park Hyun-myung, that you ‘saved’ nearly a thousand people?”

At that moment—

Saint Seia, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke.

They had understood less than half of the conversation, but the overall picture was starting to take shape.

Park Hyun-myung had played Pangaenia with the mindset of a *game*—

yet in the process, he had ensured the **survival** of countless people who stood on the brink of death.

Judging by Hudson’s reaction, a 99% survival rate was truly absurd.

Which meant that Park Hyun-myung was, to them, no different from a **savior**.

Assuming the contract with the Blue Bird had been a choice they made themselves.

Hudson nodded vigorously.

“…That’s right, Saint. Calling it a thousand is one thing, but it’s an achievement no other Player could even dream of. If it were me, I doubt I could have saved even a hundred out of a thousand.”

“So that means everyone started under extremely dire circumstances…”

“Yes. The beginning is always brutal. There has never been a single instance where ‘Survival’ started under easy conditions. Situations where death was more or less guaranteed—where one faced extreme terror that ordinary reason could never overcome. Hyun-myung solved all of that as if he were simply *playing a game*. However…”

Hudson looked at Park Hyun-myung.

There was still something he couldn’t understand.

“What exactly is this **Blue Bird**?”

The Blue Bird.

And the contract.

Even Hudson, who had thoroughly researched Players from every angle, had never heard of it.

“…It’s an entity that calls itself the *Administrator*. The one who induces the Divine Disease when death looms. Isabella here, Isaac, and Balte—all of them have encountered it.”

“So you’re saying they met it and made a *contract*?”

When he asked again, Isabella answered.

“That’s something I can explain.”

She was the only one here who remembered everything.

Perhaps among all those afflicted with the Divine Disease, she alone retained complete memories.

Through the Island of the Gods—and the Gate of Truth—she had seen it all.

Isabella took a deep breath and continued.

“…I was a replica of the imperial Dersian family. A being destined to be replaced at any moment. When I foresaw my death, the Blue Bird flew to my window.”

“…!”

“It asked me whether I wanted to take on a challenge—if there were a chance to grant one wish, even if I had to forget and lose everything else.”

“And you accepted?”

“Yes. I chose to challenge it. The problem is—I truly lost my memories. Even my memory of meeting the Blue Bird, and of being controlled after contracting the Divine Disease.”

“Then how did you regain them?”

Isabella glanced sideways at Park Hyun-myung.

Then she smiled faintly.

“When I resolved myself to die.”

She had leapt in, prepared to die, in order to save Park Hyun-myung.

That was what allowed her memories to return.

Even the precious memories related to Sonora.

Memories she must never forget—must never lose again.

Isabella continued.

“There are countless people in this world afflicted by the Divine Disease. Including myself, all of them chose it of their own will—to change their fate, to survive no matter what. Therefore, we must not label those who moved us as ‘criminals.’ We must not distort it that way. In the end, it was our choice.”

No matter the outcome, one must take responsibility for one’s own decisions.

Easy to understand.

Hard to accept.

Especially for Isaac.

“…So you’re saying my anger is misdirected?”

“There’s no reason for anger, Isaac.”

“I… damn it. I need time to organize my thoughts. This is too much to accept all at once.”

Isaac suppressed his anger.

Isabella had no reason to lie—and if that man truly was Randolph, then he was Isaac’s benefactor.

Even if his appearance had changed.

How could he vent his rage at someone he owed his life to?

Caught in this contradiction, Isaac let out a strained breath.

If only his memories would return—then he could face it properly.

But the most important part was missing, and it was driving him mad.

“Still… isn’t it strange? Why would the Blue Bird deliberately erase memories?”

At that moment, Hudson tilted his head.

After organizing his thoughts, he rubbed his chin and spoke.

“The Blue Bird creates bodies capable of possession, and the *Two Goddesses* use the Golden Scale to allow us to possess them. The Blue Bird is essentially the architect. And since all Players have already possessed bodies, there’s no need for it to make further contracts. So why is it still hiding?”

“Erasing everyone’s memories likely means it doesn’t want its identity exposed,” Isabella replied.

But Hudson still looked unconvinced.

“The problem is that by erasing memories, those afflicted with the Divine Disease treat us Players as ‘criminals’ and harbor resentment. If the goal was to save the world, shouldn’t it have ensured cooperation instead?”

“…That part is indeed strange.”

“And the way fragments of memory about the one controlling you surface after you eat a star and transcend—that’s strange too. Isn’t that basically telling you to get stronger and then hunt them down?”

“That’s a leap—”

“Isabella. Isaac. Didn’t you both resent it?”

“….”

It was true.

When they transcended.

When they learned Park Hyun-myung’s face and name.

They had felt overwhelming resentment—and rage.

Hudson reached a conclusion.

“The *Two Goddesses* are on humanity’s side. But the Blue Bird doesn’t seem to be purely on humanity’s side. It feels like it has another goal.”

“What kind of goal would require inciting people to fight each other?”

Every action has a purpose.

Yet no one could grasp the Blue Bird’s motives.

Or what it stood to gain.

As everyone pondered—

A deep voice suddenly spoke.

“A **complete entity**.”

“Hyun-myung… by complete entity, you mean…?”

“It intends to create *Destruction*—or something equivalent to it. That’s the Blue Bird’s goal.”

There was no other answer.

Like the **Ant King’s pheromone**.

Killing one another, again and again, until a single survivor remains.

Forcing constant evolution until something perfect is born.

Otherwise, there would be no reason for such meticulous design—

careful enough to escape even the notice of the Two Goddesses.

“Everyone is moving with a purpose. We must have a purpose as well.”

In the silence—

…I finally spoke of that purpose.

Now that everything was laid bare, it was time to act.

All eyes converged on me.

I spoke with conviction.

“We will **revive the Round Table Knights**.”

“W-what…?”

Hudson stared at me in shock.

Everyone—including Hudson—gaped at me in disbelief.

But that wasn’t all.

“And I will appoint **every one of you here as a Round Table Knight**.”

“Wha—?!”

There was no reason to hesitate.

It was time to move in earnest.

Time to announce to the world that the Round Table Knights had returned.

I smiled and turned my gaze.

“And Serengeti.”

“…Please speak.”

Serengeti met my eyes with an intense gaze.

Though she should have been the one struggling the most to understand, she had already adjusted her stance—as if she had accepted everything.

After all, she had always regarded Randolph as Wilhelm.

I nodded and said,

“You have something to tell me about the Round Table Knights, don’t you?”

If anyone knew, it would be her—

the one who had achieved overwhelming honor in the World Tree’s trial,

the one who carried the collective honor of the Round Table Knights.

Then—

“Yes. There is a **secret history** I must convey.”

Serengeti answered without hesitation.

A secret history.

A hidden truth.

And it was—

Just as shocking as the truth I had revealed.

“They’re all alive. Here—in the **World Tree’s Dungeon**.”

…No.

It was even more shocking than that.

—

—

At last, everything was ready.

The party for entering the **Forgotten Dungeon of Honor** had been finalized.

At the place where my chosen party members had gathered—

I slowly stepped forward before the World Tree.

Some knew me.

Most did not.

Progenitors of races.

Supreme beings who had proven themselves.

Every one of them looked at me with confusion or deep suspicion.

So I addressed them calmly.

“Greetings. I am **Hyun**, the **Golden Scale Druid**.”