I Start with 13 Hidden Traits Chapter-42

Ch-42

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The problem was the White King.

The guardian deity of the North.

The only monster that Wilhelm had not been able to kill.

*‘Doable.’*

He changes his thinking.

When the mind shifts, the body responds; and when the body responds, one’s entire attitude naturally changes.

If I could fool the Four Pillars of Might, why wouldn’t I be able to deceive the White King?

What mattered most was not shrinking back.

If the Iron-Blooded Monarch’s Heart kept my emotions in check, then *Randolph (Eternal)* lent weight to each of my actions.

On top of that, simply knowing I could destroy their Mysteries at any time granted me a measure of composure.

Judging from how the Four Pillars treated me after I destroyed the Imoogi’s Mystery, the answer was clear.

*‘They’re wary.’*

Wary of **me**.

Not just raising their guard, but observing *me*, the individual, with undivided attention.

For them, the destruction of a Mystery must have been something entirely alien.

If such a feat was possible for a transcendent species, it was only natural they would believe that being capable of even greater things—
perhaps even killing *them*.

*‘The stronger the monster, the greater the influence their Mystery holds.’*

Of course. That was the natural order of things.

Human Mysteries and monster Mysteries were fundamentally different in purpose.

Just as humans used names as proof of identity, monsters used Mysteries as *their* proof.

For humans, Mysteries were simply proof of rank or position—but for monsters, they were everything.

It was the presence or absence of a Mystery that separated ordinary monsters from boss monsters.

In games, one inevitably encounters hordes of identical monsters.

Yet even among identical-looking monsters, some are treated as much stronger thanks to their effects.

Those effects weren’t mere visual flair—they functioned as powerful weapons, granting boss-exclusive bonuses.

If there were no Mysteries, most monsters would be indistinguishable from one another.

*‘It’s the same as starting a fight after cutting off one of their hands.’*

Destroying a monster’s Mystery meant exactly that.

Fighting with one hand missing.

The higher the rank of a monster, the greater the influence its Mystery held.

If I were to destroy the highest-grade Mysteries held by something like the Four Pillars or the White King, a literal level-down phenomenon could occur.

“Quite an odd-looking corpse crow.”

…It was in that moment.

An instant—without me noticing at all—
the White King had appeared before me.

A two-meter-tall half-human, half-beast wearing a white tiger mask.

Robust body, white fur, tail and ears—this was unmistakably the White King.

Thankfully, it seemed he hadn’t shouted.

I felt like I was sweating coldly, but it turned out to be an illusion.

This place was most certainly a death zone.
Lose focus for even a moment, and I might die without realizing my head had been cut off.

Reason being—

**[Lv. 15]**

He was a monster beyond comprehension.

*‘…Was his level always this high?’*

The White King wasn’t even a super-elite raid boss monster.

He was something above that.

Something on the same tier as the Demon King—something with no proper name.

The so-called “Final Boss,” or “Named Boss” as gamers called him.

Even I hadn’t known his level.

There was no information anywhere.

Even Wilhelm failed to suppress him.

Yet, stiff-necked and unflinching, I lifted my chin and met the gaze of the White King as he revealed himself.

*‘It works.’*

The moment I faced him, I became certain.

*‘My Hidden Traits work.’*

Far less trembling than expected.

Originally, he should have seen right through me and cut my head off.

But the effects of my Hidden Traits worked even on the White King.

He could not see through me, and that was why I was still alive.

This meant that “Randolph (Eternal)” from the Hidden Traits also applied.

<‘Giant’s Anti-Magic’ cancels out ‘White King’s Eye.’>

<‘Iron-Blooded Monarch’s Heart’ cancels out ‘White King’s Presence.’>

“…How discourteous, caw.”

He wasn’t merely probing—he had used a skill.

He was trying to discern me.

But it did not work.
My Hidden Traits even nullified his skills.

As I frowned, clearly expressing displeasure, a flicker of surprise appeared in his eyes.

At the same time, the pupils of the Four Pillars trembled violently.

Even in front of the White King, this corpse crow held its head high and casually spoke of “manners.”
They clearly found it distasteful.

“Hm. Certainly a strange one.”

The White King gave his honest evaluation of me.

A strange one, was it?

*‘Good enough.’*

Such an evaluation was more than satisfactory.

The White King was impossible to pin down. Utterly unpredictable. There was a reason I had chased him for a month.

If that monster labeled someone as “strange,” that was the highest form of praise he could give.

“You passed the Mythic Crown?”

“It was nothing special, caw.”

I shrugged.

Of course, it *was* something special.

I’d thought I was really going to die at the end.

But there was no reason to tell him that.

If I didn’t say it, no one would know.

“So there were five trials, not four?”

The White King stroked his chin.

He was talking to himself.

Reconstructing it in his mind.

The White King.
The fourth myth he gave up on was the Myth of Completion.

The stage where the Myth was completed.
But the existence of something *beyond* that naturally raised questions.

“…How in the world did you clear it?”

The White King couldn’t understand.

The Mythic Crown he challenged wasn’t designed to be cleared—it was of bizarre, impossible difficulty.

After completing three trials, he knew.
The fourth, “Completion,” was impossible from the beginning. Just as the Tower intended.

Yet the corpse crow before him had surpassed “Completion.”

The fifth stage.
Transcendence—perhaps something even beyond that.

“Can you tell me what the final trial was?”

“For free, caw?”

Nothing in the world came free.

Why else would the White King seek me out?

He was the type to care about nothing in this world.

*‘He’s burning with curiosity about the Mythic Crown.’*

He was desperate to know the secret of something he couldn’t surpass—something he hadn’t even known existed.

But clearing up to the third stage was already incredible.

I managed it with tricks—but the White King faced the trials as they were.

A genuine monster.

Fighting ten thousand enemies of equal level, gaining new overwhelming traits each stage. Clearing three stages was only possible because he was the White King.

“What do you want in return?”

“If I said I wanted your remaining fang, caw?”

The moment I spoke—

Brrrrrrr!

The bodies of all the Four Pillars trembled.

Pure rage.
They glared at me as if ready to kill.

…Did I push too far?

“Hm. That would be troublesome. But how did you know I have only one fang left?”

The White King sounded genuinely troubled.

He wore the mask to hide the one fang he had left—

The one Wilhelm tore out.

Only Wilhelm and the Four Pillars knew this secret—yet he wondered how I could possibly know.

*‘He must never realize I’m Wilhelm.’*

I was Randolph.
I had to remain Randolph.

Otherwise, I’d break my promise.
The White King and the Four Pillars would give everything they had to kill me.

“How could I *not* know, caw?”

As if it were obvious.

Explaining awkwardly would be worse; better to push harder.

Leave it to their imagination—they would fill in the blanks, making me seem more dangerous and extraordinary.

“Hm. The Four Pillars did well to bring you.”

The White King observed me quietly.

A being the Four Pillars could not handle.

A being he himself could not decipher.

From the moment corpse crow appeared, he showed no surprise, no hesitation, no lack of composure.

As if the corpse crow already knew everything.

Even the missing fang under his mask.

Not even Medusa could discern what lay beyond his mask.

*‘One who sees through all…’*

One who completed the trials of Myth.

The Corpse Crow truly was a being the Four Pillars had given up trying to understand.

If I had shown fear or surprise when he first appeared, he would have been disappointed.
But the corpse crow before him showed no such reaction.

My heartbeat was calm and steady, my pupils and skin unshaking.

*‘To go deeper, I’d have to transform into my true form.’*

The White King pondered.

If he transformed and used his skill, he could peer further into the abyss.

He could find out if what blocked his magic was merely the species’ nature or something else entirely.

But he soon shook his head.

Mentioning “manners” meant he had sensed even the skill I used inadvertently.

This corpse crow possessed the ability to perceive the activation of skills.

Besides—

*‘He destroyed a Mystery. The Mythic Crown must have granted him the authority to destroy Mysteries.’*

The White King already knew the corpse crow had destroyed the Imoogi’s Mystery.

The Corpse Crow likely didn’t originally possess such an ability.

It must have come from the Mythic Crown.

Which meant that the Tower itself acknowledged the corpse crow as the “Sovereign of Mystery.”

And what did that imply?

*‘His species rating is higher than mine.’*

Mysteries were also indicators of racial hierarchy.

In other words, the corpse crow’s racial value was higher than his—higher than anyone’s.

A high racial value didn’t necessarily mean greater strength, but someone who completed the final Mythic trial was not someone to be taken lightly.

The White King felt an intense emotion surge within him.

*‘…Competitive spirit.’*

It was competitive spirit.

A trial he himself had failed to achieve.

One who cleared it now stood before him without fear, brimming with confidence.

His blood boiled.

But he felt something beyond mere competitive spirit.

*‘My Mystery fears him.’*

The White King was perfectly united with his Mystery.

The connection was unlike anything a typical monster possessed.

It felt like skin—like part of his body.

Yet his Mystery stiffened and sent warnings at the sight of this corpse crow.

As if frightened by the presence of a being capable of destroying it.

This was a first.

*‘Truly fascinating.’*

He had to acknowledge it now.

The corpse crow before him definitely possessed something.

“What is your name?”

The White King asked.

Understanding the intent behind the question, I clenched my fist inwardly and replied:

“Randolph, caw.”

“I hear you sought me. Why?”

“For the same reason you’re here, caw.”

“You mean the reason I am in Cramdel?”

“Yes, caw.”

It was certain.

The White King held no interest in Cramdel.

No—he was detached from the affairs of the world.

Whether Cramdel fell or not, he didn’t care.

He only pretended for the sake of the Four Pillars who followed him.

Yet now he was here.

The White King nodded.

“…The 33rd Star. So you came to investigate that as well.”

“That’s right, caw.”

“But the authority over a Star belongs only to the Star Guardians. Not even I may interfere with the Star Guardians.”

Star Guardians.

Monsters who protected the Stars.

Even the White King had clear boundaries with them.
He couldn’t interfere even in Cramdel.

As I’d seen at Cramdel’s entrance, the Star Guardians were in a different league altogether.

The White King continued:

“Are you saying you can discern precisely what the Star Guardians are seeking?”

“I can, caw.”

Only I could know for certain.

Dramut.

He was here too.

And possibly… the five Star Guardians of the five stars Wilhelm once held.

“It is sealed by a unique-grade Mystery. Even so?”

“A simple task, caw.”

Sealed by a Mystery?

The White King had attempted to look into it but gave up.

Even better for me.

“…Very well. Then I shall temporarily grant you the position of Fifth Pillar. It will make moving within Cramdel more convenient.”

“White King…!”

The Four Pillars shot to their feet, shocked.

The White King lifted his shoulders lightly.

“Surely I cannot give up my own position.”

“B-but granting the seat of the Fifth Pillar to someone we’ve only just met? Impossible!”

The Great Earth Dragon raised his voice.

I, too, spoke in a tone that conveyed dissatisfaction.

“Why must I work under you, caw?”

“I cannot simply let a dangerous being like you roam free.”

As if to avoid misunderstanding, the White King elaborated:

“And the Pillars are not beneath me—they are my equals. They respect me, that is all. In practice, it is the Pillars who lead Cramdel, not I.”

Equal standing.

But what concerned me more was the statement that he couldn’t let me go freely.

Someone like me—whose allegiance was unknown, friend or foe—

If he didn’t want a fight, he needed to put a collar of authority on me.

If I refused, a battle would be unavoidable.

Which meant the only thing left for me was—

To drive in a wedge on a whole different level than before.

“Certainly. If you and I were to fight, Cramdel would vanish from the map, caw.”

The moment I spoke, the eyes of every Pillar widened with shock.

The Four Pillars—

**Irrationally arrogant.**

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