The outcome was beyond anyone’s expectation. Namjoon and Jangmun stood at the center of the palace’s meeting halls, basking in mighty glory as they emerged as winners. All eyes stared at them with disbelief, and this was the euphoria Namjoon had been seeking for.   “You’re saying the other races are dead?” King R.O.P. questioned. There was a quiver to his timbre, and he gulped down his saliva. His eyebrows twisted into knots of disappointment.   “Indeed,” Namjoon spoke, flashing a brief smile. “I could go back and retrieve their corpses for you, but I don’t think you’d like it. Some of their bodies are slithered in half, some only have remains of several body parts.”   Nearly everyone in the room winced in disgust, only J-Lite being unaffected by the gory detail. He laughed out heartily, swirling past the other leaders to stand in between Namjoon and the current goblin king.   “Your crown is ephemeral to begin with, and your rule is evanescent. As per law, you shall rightfully hand over your crown and position to the leader of the winning race,” he spoke, grinning eagerly like a child about to get his hands on candies. He extended his hand in anticipation. “I will rule the world.”   Namjoon raised his eyebrows at the statement. That was not how he had remembered their covenant.   “It was a fair game. Hand over the crown, R.O.P.” P-Dragon roared. He couldn’t control his anger that the werewolf had lost. They were so close to winning.   Daeyang let out a silent sigh, staring at the floor with mixed emotion. The elven princess Bae Aeri was finally annihilated, just as the elven king, her father, had hoped for. It was morally incorrect, and a part of him was secretly glad they wouldn’t fall under the tyranny of such a heartless leader. Instead, the humans seemed to be suffering a greater loss.   Jeungri had gone off into a corner, eventually leaving the room. He couldn’t hide his staggering shoulders and the way his hand covered his lips. His brother, Min Yoongi, had died in the game. They had warned him not to let the crown prince participate. It was too dangerous to begin with. He should’ve listened to them.   “Come now. Chop, chop. We don’t have all day,” J-Lite spoke hastily, clapping his hand to make them move. He was eager to get a taste of what being king felt like.   Knowing the wendigo will become their new ruler, all palace workers began to move faster under his command. A wendigo had never been king, and no one knew what to expect. They had to avoid getting killed or being eaten. They had now become slaves of fear.   “Fine,” R.O.P. spoke with reluctance in his voice. He balled his fist into a ball, staring intently at J-Lite to the point his veins nearly popped out.   “Commence the coronation.”   “Yes, Your Majesty,” the palace workers obeyed out of blind and fearful obedience.   At this point, Namjoon took J-Lite by the arm, bringing him into a dark corner to discuss something.   “I don’t remember coming to an agreement that you’d take the crown,” Namjoon told his leader.   J-Lite was perplexed, scowling at the other as he shook his head. “Namjoon, you must’ve gotten blinded while playing the game. Your role was to emerge as winner, my role is to rule as king.”   Namjoon’s lips remained a thin line, not finding any humor even as J-Lite laughed. “Are you certain you could rule over the new world order?”   This earned a louder scowl, and his saliva spat unto Namjoon’s face. “I created Code 11-23. You won because of me. There is no one better suited for this role,” J-Lite bragged.   “Hm.” Namjoon smiled, releasing the tension from his face. He patted his leader by the shoulder and bobbed his head. “That’s all I needed to confirm.”   Jangmun observed in silence even as the world around him kept moving. The other leaders were hopeless, refusing to speak to one another after their loss. The workers continued to prepare for the coronation ceremony whereby the wendigo will be crowned and officially introduced as the new ruler of Ephemerus.   He faced the golden embellished wall clock, wondering how many hours had gone by. Not even a half day had gone by, and already was he getting anxious.   He wished time would pass.     The coronation started within the palace whereby they had to follow a specific set of ritual. This ensured a legal transfer of rulership between the different race, but also honored the sacred tradition their forefathers came up with.   The room that used to be guarded by the goblins and royal knights were now invaded by dark looking creatures. They wore a black cloak from top to bottom, covering their face in shadow and hiding their feet when moving. One would think they were floating. Each took the post where a guard was previously assigned to, clearly indicating that it was their position now as the wendigo army.   The large palace door to the main aula opened once again to welcome the special guest for the day. It was the high priestess of the monastery, a woman whose dark brown hair cascaded down her chest. Instead of her usual white scared robe, she wore a dark cloak resembling the other wendigos. The only difference was the golden embroideries to the end of her robe, and the way the hoodie fell on her back, exposing her face. A weird marking was carved on her forehead, either a tatoo or the work of a knife.   The high priestess held a large golden goblet and set it in front of them. Taking out a small vial from her pocket, she poured a red colored liquid into the goblet with shaking hands. The rich aroma of red wine filled the room, dizzying everyone with its eloquent sense. The tray was handed to the goblin king that was soon to be dethroned.   A sacred blade was present, used to extract blood from all five leaders a