Chapter 173
Episode 58: The Mirage of the Mitra Great Desert (Part 1)
According to the Watertail tribe, the beastmen’s lands had recently become overrun by the Red Tiger clan.
The Red Tigers had always looked down on other races, but lately, they’d taken to extorting tolls—demanding valuables from any beastmen or adventurers passing through their territory.
“If you get caught by those wicked bastards, you’re done for. No chance.”
“Toll extortion? For such a fierce warrior clan to stoop to petty street thug tactics… unbelievable.”
“Anyway, you’re lucky. You met us.”
Jin had originally planned to enter the beastmen lands by following the forest path where Kinzello’s branch once stood. Without encountering the Watertail tribe, he would have almost certainly run into trouble.
“You don’t think the Red Tigers know the path you take?”
“Absolutely not. Follow us.”
The Watertail tribe was renowned as one of the best at avoiding predators, second only to the Myeoin tribe.
Walking alongside them, Jin made small talk. Whenever the Watertail asked why he was heading to the Mitra Great Desert, Jin gave vague answers.
After a couple of hours, they reached a tunnel they had dug. Straining through it, Jin couldn’t help but sigh in relief when he emerged.
Beyond the tunnel, as if by magic, a single waterfall poured down.
“Refill your water.”
Jin filled his canteen to the brim. Passing the waterfall, they came upon another tunnel—this one a rocky cave with countless branching paths.
“Did you dig this one too?”
“No, the Myeoin tribe did.”
“Oh.”
The Myeoin’s tunnels were true labyrinths, reflecting their habit of shunning all outsiders, humans included.
Depending on which fork you took, the paths led to different places. Among thousands of possibilities, one would lead to the Myeoin’s hidden refuge.
Like a game, they passed dozens of forks inside the cave.
At the cave’s end, a group of beastmen about the same height as the Watertail—barely reaching Jin’s waist—were napping together.
They were the Goldenfur tribe, small, fluffy creatures with mouse-like faces.
“Hey, hey! What are you bringing here?”
Unlike the Watertail, the Goldenfur spoke quickly and clearly, reflecting their skill in trade.
Soon, the two tribes conversed, mixing the continent’s common tongue with the beastmen’s language. Jin found them quite endearing.
The conversation ended with a Watertail member offering a small gem.
“Why you’re heading to the Great Desert is none of our business, but good luck, human.”
After passing the Goldenfur, a massive wooden door suddenly appeared.
“Open this door, and you’ll find a general store.”
“A general store?”
“The Goldenfur’s general store. Beyond that is the Yukayuka Market.”
“Oh, so the cave leads all the way there.”
The Yukayuka Market was a place where moderate beastmen gathered to trade.
Much like human markets, all sorts of goods were bought and sold. The only difference was the presence of “guides” who solicited adventurers.
Since countless human travelers visited every year, every market in the beastmen lands had guides catering to them.
“The Goldenfur recommend their guides, but they’re lousy. Ignore them and use the Hauling tribe. They’re reliable and honest.”
“Thanks for the tip. Before we part ways, shall we introduce ourselves?”
“I’m Darkflame.”
“What?”
“Darkflame. That’s my name.”
Jin almost asked what kind of name that was, but thought better of it—it might be rude. The name didn’t suit his appearance at all.
“Alright, Darkflame of the Watertail… I’m Jin Runkandel.”
“How did you know?”
“I saw the black sword emblem on your robe when you gave me the fish.”
“Still, you could be any ordinary cadet.”
“I just have a feeling. You’re the captain.”
“Interesting. You won’t go blabbing about this, right?”
“Don’t worry.”
“Good. Then next time we meet, I’ll repay your kindness as Runkandel. Farewell.”
Creak.
As the door swung open, Jin stepped into the general store just as Darkflame said, and a Goldenfur who seemed to be the owner quickly began calling out to customers.
Ignoring him, Jin headed straight to where the guides gathered. Humans were not uncommon in the market, so he kept his hood pulled low.
Finding a sturdy Hauling tribe guide was easy.
During the journey to the Mitra Great Desert with the guide, Jin thankfully never encountered the Red Tigers.
Instead, he often saw humans clearly affiliated with Kinzello, wearing clothes emblazoned with the “Broken Sun” emblem.
Wearing such attire openly on the continent would mean being stopped by the security forces or dragged away. Most nations already labeled Kinzello a terrorist group, even if they weren’t widely known yet.
Yet here, in the beastmen lands, they operated freely, creating a strange sense of dissonance.
“Maybe it’s not just the White Wolf tribe—perhaps most beastmen have ties to Kinzello.”
When they reached the desert’s edge, the Hauling guide returned to the Yukayuka Market, and Jin gazed silently at the barren sands.
Walking alone in the desert took courage.
As he left the first footprints on the Mitra Great Desert’s sands, Jin felt a weight heavier than ever before.
He was confident in fighting strong opponents, risking his life.
But this vast sea of sand, stretching endlessly under a murky sky, pressed down on him with a suffocating sense of dread.
“If I die here, no one will even find my body.”
Even the native beastmen left no bones behind if they got lost. Suddenly, Jin felt awe for the great adventurers said to have crossed this desert.
“The legendary home of the Spirit Sword…”
That same sensation he’d felt when cutting through Myuron’s Hellgate or shattering Goltep’s hammer.
It was as if sword, spirit energy, and self became one, chanting spells in unison. This sensation was called the “Spirit Sword.”
A special swordsmanship allowed only to the Runkandel swordmasters.
The once-great Myungwang tribe, now believed extinct, were the inheritors of the Spirit Sword. Somewhere in this desert lay the land left for them to fulfill their legacy.
Why had the Myungwang become the Spirit Sword’s heirs?
There was a secret unknown to the world.
The Myungwang didn’t believe in the gods’ power. They challenged them and were brutally defeated, leading to their extinction. This was why their once-flourishing civilization vanished overnight half a millennium ago.
Overnight?
When you fought little Andrei, how did Quikantel react upon seeing the Demon God Stone?
He was terrified.
Even a fake of the Origin Stone like the Demon God Stone caused that reaction. The Origin Stone was made by gathering the gods’ power. That’s how formidable divine power is. When the Myungwang challenged the gods, the Origin Stone was already destroyed, yet they still stood no chance.
While the gods united to crush the Myungwang as a warning, one god took pity on them.
Before leaving Tikan, Murakan and I had this conversation.
Jin recalled once again that Temar Runkandel had learned the Spirit Sword from them.
“Maybe I’ll hear stories about the first clan head from the Myungwang.”
Temar Runkandel.
Despite being the first clan head, records about him in the Sword Garden were scarce.
He founded the family name “Runkandel” for himself and his followers, and the tales of him defeating Murakan a thousand years ago and the name of his beloved sword Barisada were almost all that remained.
Though the family’s founder and greatest hero, there wasn’t even a place for him in the Sword Garden’s shrine.
Ziphl had erased all records related to Temar.
Step, step. Splash…
With every step, water sloshed inside the canteen at his waist. He had enough to last a few days, but whether he’d find an oasis or spring was uncertain.
He hadn’t brought a compass. If the land allowed a compass to work properly, the native beastmen or veteran adventurers wouldn’t get lost.
So he had to keep moving forward, no matter what.
After several hours, just as his head began to feel foggy, he looked back—and saw the same endless landscape. The forest and trees that marked the desert’s edge had vanished completely.
“Not even footprints remain.”
The desert sands shifted with the slightest breeze, reshaping themselves at will. Hills that looked distant crumbled as he approached, and footprints vanished as quickly as ripples on a lake.
Even if he gave up now, could he retrace his steps?
Impossible.
Jin shrugged lightly, accepting the harsh truth. He was beginning to realize how natural and common death was here.
He took a deep breath and pressed onward.
The desert night that followed was brutally cold, and the sun that rose the next day burned with an infuriating heat.
So it went on for a full week, until December 1, 1796. The canteen no longer sloshed with water, yet the oasis showed no sign of appearing.
An ordinary person—or even a moderately trained adventurer—would have been dead by now.
Just before Klam descended at Colon, things had looked even more hopeless, but he had managed to pull through then, and that memory kept Jin from losing hope.
“After the third mirage fades, unleash the spirit liberation. That’s when the Pluto clan will appear.”
Enduring the Mitra Desert was, in itself, a trial to inherit the spirit sword.
To battle nature was to challenge the gods. Jin was beginning to grasp the true meaning behind this ‘trial.’
Only a few drops of water remained, and his steps felt as heavy as if he carried a thousand pounds.
Still, he pressed on stubbornly.
“Hah.”
The first mirage appeared just as he emptied his canteen, drinking the last of the water.
But could this really be called a mirage?
“Long time no see, kid. Finally found you.”
“Man, you have no idea how much I missed you. Thanks to you, life back at the main house has been a real pain…”
The voice that suddenly echoed was none other than the Tona brothers’. It was so clear, so vivid, that Jin couldn’t dismiss it as a hallucination.
‘But it’s a mirage—a fake.’
Just seconds ago, there had been nothing but endless sand in every direction. The sudden appearance of the Tona brothers could only be explained by a mirage.
Yet, as they strode toward Jin, their footprints were unmistakably real.
Even the greatsword and chain sword they wielded radiated a fierce aura. And unmistakably, it was murderous intent aimed straight at Jin.
‘So, this isn’t an ordinary mirage after all… If all three mirages are like this, I’m in trouble.’
Slowly, Jin drew his Bradamante sword, summoning his aura.