Chapter 28: The Allure of Power
Translated by Vine | Proofread by Lust
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“The distribution of duties, ranks, and responsibilities within the Cult is now complete. Although there’s still work to be done in terms of formal laws, we can now manage the inner workings of the Cult more efficiently,” said Park Cheol-gon, nodding with satisfaction.
Park Cheol-gon and Hwang Geun-chul were former politicians in charge of organizing the structure within the Bahamute Cult. They weren’t prominent members of the Korean National Assembly, nor were they well-known in any capacity—they were minor players, barely clinging to the fringe of their respective parties.
Neither of them were representatives of Gyeongju City, nor were they even elected officials. In truth, they were obscure, low-ranking politicians, far from the limelight of South Korea’s political powerhouses. But now, with the apocalypse having destroyed the entire political landscape, these two found themselves in unexpected positions of influence.
“Thank you for your efforts. So, you were both politicians? One from the Democratic Party and the other from the Conservative Party?” Bahamut inquired, curious.
The apocalypse had shattered not only the country’s fate but the rigid political divide as well.
The communication networks of their respective parties were utterly broken, and no one even knew if the elected representatives were still alive. Under such circumstances, there was no room for the petty bickering that had once divided South Korea. Even Park Cheol-gon and Hwang Geun-chul, once ideological rivals, now understood the futility of clinging to the old conflicts.
“There’s no need to mention the party names, my lord. They’re long dead,” Park Cheol-gon replied with a self-deprecating smile. “Just call us advisors or aides.”
“Understood.”
They had no qualms about casting aside their past titles, aligning themselves now as advisors for the Bahamute Cult.
“We swear to provide unwavering counsel on matters of governance for the Cult,” Park pledged.
“I pledge the same,” echoed Hwang Geun-chul.
For them, the Bahamute Cult represented a new hope for South Korea’s future. The Cult wasn’t just a religious organization; it was a powerful, promising faction that could revive a semblance of order in a fractured world. While the fact that their leader wasn’t human but a dragon did cause some hesitation, they both recalled how many cult leaders in South Korea’s history had tried to influence politics from the shadows. This didn’t seem much different.
“If that’s your commitment, I have a question for you,” Bahamut said, his gaze sharpening.
“Please, go ahead,” Park replied.
“Despite our growing influence, there are still some who refuse to submit. Why do you think that is?”
The two advisors immediately understood the implications behind Bahamut’s question.
‘He’s talking about North Gyeongju.’
‘It makes sense; rumors have been circulating about the raiders gaining momentum recently.’
It wasn’t that the Cult feared North Gyeongju’s strength. The Bahamute Cult had grown to become the dominant power in Gyeongju, liberating towns and villages in its vicinity and garnering respect through its reconstruction efforts. Even if Cho Sun-do and his raiders tried to resist, there was no chance they could overturn the Cult’s dominance.
Especially not with Bahamut, the god they followed, backing them.
“The answer is simple. They cannot bear to give up the power they have attained.”
“They can’t let go?” Bahamut asked, intrigued.
“Yes. Wealth, power… or even something else. Humans find it hard to relinquish what fuels their desires. In this zombie apocalypse, as long as you have strength, you can seize wealth and power at will. From what I’ve gathered, Cho Sun-do has declared himself the king of North Gyeongju,” Hwang Geun-chul explained.
In other words, Cho Sun-do’s actions were driven by pure, unrestrained desire. Despite knowing that the tide had turned against him, he continued to resist the Bahamute Cult, unable to relinquish the taste of authority he’d gained in the apocalypse.
“That… does make sense,” Bahamut mused, nodding thoughtfully.
If he were in Cho Sun-do’s position, having seized a great amount of wealth and power, would he be willing to give it all up so easily? Unlikely. Bahamut understood the primal urge to hold onto what one had gained.
Seeing Bahamut’s contemplative expression, Park Cheol-gon added his thoughts.
“It’s simple, really. He’s clinging to a throne he fought tooth and nail to acquire. He’ll do anything to protect it. Isn’t that right?”
“Indeed. Jung Dong-geon informed me that Cho Sun-do’s group has been engaging in raids against us and even attempted to flood the market with counterfeit currency to destabilize our economy,” Bahamut confirmed.
The border between North and South Gyeongju was a single bridge, close enough for easy access. Cho Sun-do’s raiders frequently crossed that bridge, launching raids and flooding the market with counterfeit coins, hoping to disrupt the Cult’s stronghold.
“But isn’t that simply the desperation of a second-rate leader? Our Cult remains the undisputed power in Gyeongju, despite his antics,” Park remarked dismissively.
“That’s true.”
Park’s tone was almost dismissive, as if the threat posed by North Gyeongju was trivial. And perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, it was. Bahamut acknowledged the Cult’s superiority with a resolute nod.
“With control over South Gyeongju, we’ve liberated farmlands and secured enough resources to sustain ourselves. While we still have some internal matters to address, we’re making steady progress in solving them.”
“Impressive, my lord. If we were to conquer North Gyeongju, how many troops would we need?” Hwang Geun-chul asked, curiosity piqued.
“Excluding Cho Sun-do himself? Jung Dong-geon’s expeditionary force should be more than enough,” Bahamut replied confidently.
“Wow.”
Both Park and Hwang looked at Bahamut with astonishment.
Cho Sun-do might call himself the “king” of Gyeongju, and he might have a degree of influence and power, but hearing that Jung Dong-geon’s forces alone could topple him highlighted just how strong the Bahamute Cult had become.
“In this world, strength is everything.”
“And our Cult is the strongest in South Gyeongju!”
The advisors couldn’t hide their anticipation as they considered the might of their forces.
“So, our army is indeed the strongest in the region,” Park noted, his tone filled with pride.
“Now I see why Bahamut-sama questioned their refusal to surrender.”
If they so chose, they could easily crush Cho Sun-do’s forces, sweeping away the raiders with ease. And yet, Bahamut hesitated. Why?
‘Is it a matter of principle? Or… something else?’
Before the formation of the Bahamute Cult, when the survivor camps were still uniting, Park and Hwang had witnessed Bahamut express a desire to solve conflicts through dialogue whenever possible.
At the time, they’d thought it was mere lip service, an attempt to ease the fears of the survivors. But now, seeing Bahamut actually uphold that ideal, they found themselves oddly moved.
‘Wait… so fighting wasn’t his first choice after all. He genuinely wants to avoid conflict.’
What they didn’t realize was that Bahamut, this “mighty dragon,” had no real attachment to any political ideology. His reluctance stemmed less from lofty principles and more from simple caution—he was simply wary of making a mistake that would lead him down a dangerous path, especially one that could turn humanity against him.
“If we are as strong as you say, then there are three main reasons why Cho Sun-do and his followers haven’t surrendered,” Park Cheol-gon began, laying out his analysis.
“The first is what we’ve already discussed: people are reluctant to let go of the power they’ve gained. Humans are inherently driven to protect whatever satisfies their desires, even if it means clinging to it pathetically.”
Bahamut listened carefully, intrigued by the advisors’ insights. Park continued with his second point.
“The second reason involves strategic calculation. Some people view themselves as potential ‘kingmakers,’ hoping to sell their allegiance to whichever side values them the most. They may be even more corrupt than Cho
Sun-do himself, hoping to increase their worth by aligning with the highest bidder.”
“And the third?” Bahamut asked.
“The third is that some may simply despise you, Bahamut-sama. They might hate the peace you represent and crave the chaos that lets them indulge freely in their desires. Such individuals see this apocalypse as a paradise.”
Park and Hwang had an intuitive grasp of the human psyche after years in politics. While Bahamut’s inclination was to solve things peacefully, the advisors recognized that some people thrived in anarchy and would never surrender willingly.
Bahamut pondered these three possibilities, frowning slightly at the third.
“The first and second reasons are understandable. But the third… why would anyone see this chaos as paradise?”
“Some people think of this apocalypse as heaven, my lord. In their eyes, the collapse of society lifted all the burdens and restrictions they once faced. For those who suffered from the old world’s system, this new world is their ideal,” Hwang explained.
“Explain.”
The concept puzzled Bahamut, but the advisors were prepared to elaborate.
“I see you’re surprised. Understandable. But it’s true that for some, what was hell for the rest of us is heaven to them. The old world was their prison,” Hwang said, smiling faintly.
“For these people, the apocalypse erased all the constraints of the previous society—social status, job security, financial burdens, family issues. All the hardships they faced vanished overnight. And now, in this new world, wealth and power are attainable simply by having strength. With no moral or legal restrictions, they can indulge every desire.”
“Humans, by nature, struggle to resist temptation, especially when all social and moral constraints are gone,” Park added.
It was a dark truth of human nature.
Even in a developed country like South Korea, there had always been those left behind by society—the impoverished, the disillusioned, the marginalized.
For such individuals, this apocalypse wasn’t a disaster. It was an opportunity.
A chance to grasp at power, wealth, and fulfillment they could never achieve in the old world.
“How terrifying.”
To Bahamut, a former shut-in gamer now thrust into the role of a dragon god, it was a harsh reminder of the world’s darker side—a world both foreign and frightening to him.
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