Chapter 175
Episode 58: The Mirage of the Mitra Desert (3)
Every time Jin exhaled, it felt as if sand had settled deep in his lungs, leaving a gritty, unpleasant taste.
By day, he trudged onward; by night, he shivered beneath his blanket, trembling from a cold and loneliness that felt almost unreal. Each morning, the blanket he’d wrapped himself in hardened like a cocoon, stiffened by the relentless sandstorms.
Once, a scorpion—so venomous it didn’t even have a known scientific name—bit his ankle. Every living thing in the Mitra Desert carried deadly poison. Without the antidote he’d managed to secure, Jin might not have survived.
He ate the scorpion to conserve his dwindling food supplies. Every strange creature he encountered—an unknown insect resembling a bee, a two-headed snake covered in black scales—he devoured without hesitation.
Perhaps because he’d swallowed so much sand, the roughly cooked meat tasted horrid, reeking of decay. Yet Jin barely noticed.
Crunch. Crunch.
The snake broke apart between his gaunt cheeks. Even the venom that dripped out was no more than water to him, and once again, Jin felt a surge of gratitude toward Yona.
Three days passed after crossing the first mirage.
If the sun and moon hadn’t risen and set, he wouldn’t have known how much time had slipped by. The desert stretched endlessly, the landscape unchanging no matter how far he walked.
“No one’s here… not a single soul in this desert.”
That was the cruelest truth.
He’d never experienced such profound loneliness in his life. Though only about ten days had passed since leaving Tikan, time in the desert moved at a completely different pace than the outside world.
Another week went by.
No more snakes or scorpions appeared. Jin was utterly alone, wandering aimlessly through the vast sea of sand.
Maybe if he’d spoken aloud to himself, it would have been easier—but his water bottle was empty again, so even that small comfort was gone.
And to make matters worse—
The phrase fit the Mitra Desert on December 11, 1796, perfectly.
“My reserved food… it’s gone?”
That morning, Jin woke up and couldn’t help but cry out in frustration.
The food he’d carefully stored in his bag, the only thing he’d held onto through the night, had vanished completely. Everything else remained untouched—only the food had disappeared without a trace.
Not a single piece of jerky, not a pinch of grain flour remained. Even when he buried his face in the bag, no scent lingered. It was as if the food had never been there at all.
“Hah.”
Nausea rose in his throat. He threw the empty water bottle to the ground and cursed the sky with every foul word he knew. He wanted to demand why this was happening to him, but—
His voice dissolved into the empty desert air, leaving no echo.
Still, he had to keep moving.
Standing still would only mean a slow, miserable death. And besides, he was too stubborn to give up now.
No matter how strong a person was—
Without water and food, survival was impossible. He forced himself onward with superhuman willpower, but deep down, he knew there was no answer.
By the next day, the sky had turned yellow, and he hadn’t returned.
By the second day, his body began to convulse intermittently. Surviving two days in the desert without food or water was nothing short of a miracle.
By the third day, there was still no sign of a spring, oasis, or any prey.
Thud—
He stumbled and fell. His ankle and calf suddenly gave out.
A handful of sand spilled into his open mouth. His tongue was so dry the grains stuck to it.
Though it was only the first time he’d fallen, a deep exhaustion spread through his bones. An overwhelming urge to just lie down and sleep crashed over him like a tidal wave.
Resisting that urge was harder than he’d imagined—especially in such a desperate situation.
“Damn it, it’s just one fall. Just one fall…!”
Spitting out the sand with a scowl, he forced himself back to his feet. The sun’s glare off the sand made him dizzy, and his legs wobbled as if they belonged to someone else.
Then, suddenly, a hand appeared, gripping a water bottle.
Someone was standing right beside him, holding it out.
Of course, there was no one else in this desert who could be there.
“A mirage!”
Whether mirage or real person, the fact that someone had approached silently and offered him water was what mattered. If it had been a sword instead of a water bottle, Jin would have been dead before he even realized it.
With a swift motion, he knocked the bottle away with the pommel of his sword and drew his blade. Without even looking at the person’s face, he spun around, grabbed them from behind, and pressed the blade tightly against their neck.
Before the water bottle hit the ground, Jin had already seized their life by the throat.
The speed was lightning-fast. Even Jin himself couldn’t understand where the strength had come from—it was pure instinct.
The owner of the water bottle showed no sign of panic despite the blade at their throat. And then Jin realized: the figure was a woman dressed in a robe.
In her other hand, the one that had dropped the water bottle, she held a staff. It was clearly made of silver pine wood, and for some reason, it looked incredibly familiar.
Her red hair was familiar too.
“Red hair, silver pine staff… no way…?”
Jin’s eyes widened. In his memory, there was only one person with such striking red hair who wielded a silver pine staff.
“Valeria…?”
“Put the sword away. If you’re not planning to actually stab me.”
Slowly, Jin lowered his blade from her neck.
She sighed and turned around, her face exactly as he remembered and longed for.
Valeria Hister.
She was the one who had taught Jin magic in his previous life.
“How…?”
No, that wasn’t the question.
It had to be a mirage. The Valeria Jin was seeing was twenty-six years old—the last image he had of her before they parted in his past life.
But perhaps because the harsh days in the desert had worn him down—
The loneliness, sorrow, and longing he’d been suppressing all burst forth at once the moment he saw her.
“Three years ago, when I reached out to you lying on the street, you did the same thing. You instinctively pointed a sword at my neck. Your skill was terrible back then, though.”
Three years ago, Jin had been in the Garden of Swords.
But not Valeria. In her memories, Jin was a broken man, cast out from Runcandel, wandering the world like a shell of himself.
“Valeria… no, Master. Are you the second mirage?”
“Looks like it.”
“What? You actually know you’re a mirage?”
“Yeah, I do. Though the real me, who’s about to turn fifteen, probably doesn’t.”
“So what am I supposed to do…?”
“Kill me and move on.”
Cruel.
That was the first thought that came to Jin’s mind. He instinctively knew.
The mirages of the desert weren’t magic or divine power. Every mirage he’d encountered so far was a real person living deep within his inner self.
People standing vividly in his memories. That was why cutting down the Tona brothers felt like killing his own flesh and blood, and why meeting his true master now felt so real.
“I didn’t want to meet you like this either. It would have been better if we’d met under better circumstances.”
“Don’t do this, Master. Why does it have to be you?”
Valeria picked up the water bottle from the ground and tossed it toward Jin.
“Drink. If you fight me like that, you’ll die on the first incantation.”
“Is there no other way?”
“You know better than anyone. Don’t deny it. You were reborn and got so strong, but I think your mental strength is still better in my memories. Stop whining.”
Jin’s trembling hand reached down and grabbed the water bottle.
After days of walking through what had been a living hell, the bottle was filled to the brim with water.
But he didn’t want to drink it. Because if he did—
“I’d have to kill you.”
It was nothing like killing the Tona brothers. To kill her—Valeria Hister—was unthinkable. Without her, Jin would never have been given a second chance at life.
He would have spent twenty-five years as a Runcandel, wandering like a stray dog, bitter and broken, before dying alone. She had reached out to him, and even when he’d turned away and pointed a sword at her throat, she had come back again and again.
Because of her, Jin existed now.
“You’ve gotten quite arrogant since I last saw you, student.”
Valeria saw his hesitation and raised her staff. As she unleashed her magic, a storm of blue energy swirled around the silver pine wood.
“Seven-star magic. You think you’ve surpassed me just because you’ve achieved that much? Drink, Jin Runcandel. I’m also the voice inside your mind. You should be ready to fight me.”
Click.
She opened the water bottle. If Jin hesitated any longer, she would unleash her magic without mercy. The Valeria Hister Jin remembered was sharper than any sword.
Everything about her was certain—her decisions, her battles, her retreats.
“What am I to you?”
“My only student. So don’t disappoint me.”
“Did the real you act like this too?”
“I probably loved you more than this. Maybe I even held you once. Maybe I kissed your forehead.”
“That’s no comfort coming from you.”
“Then don’t ask anymore. Defeat me and move on. You still have one more mirage to face.”
Gulp, gulp!
Jin drank the water in one breath. But it wasn’t ordinary water—he could feel his vitality returning rapidly.
“You can use both your sword and your spirit energy.”
Was my master really that strong? Strong enough that I’d have to give everything I had now.
I couldn’t decide quickly. But one thing was clear: the magic gathered in Valeria’s staff was far more powerful than I remembered.
An insurmountable wall.
At one time, Valeria had felt like that. Even after making a contract with Solderet, I always doubted whether I could ever surpass her magic.
Now, she was a wall I didn’t want to cross. At least, not yet.
Thud…!
Jin plunged Bradamante into the sand. Valeria just shrugged her shoulders and said,
“You’ll regret this.”
“You’ll regret it more if I have to use my sword to defeat you. You were the entirety of my magic, and you always will be.”
“True, my apprentice’s reckless charm came from not looking like much.”
Crackle—!
In an instant, Valeria’s magic sparked with lightning. Back when she was training me, this was the spell she’d often use to roast me.
“And because of that recklessness, I was always scolding you.”
Flash!
Before she could finish, five bolts of lightning struck down. They were too fast for Jin to dodge, and from Valeria’s blazing staff, yet another spell was already taking shape.