Chapter 178
Episode 59: The Legacy of the Spirit Sword (1)
It felt as if he were walking toward a distant star.
Though his strides were long and steady, Jin couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t getting any closer to Temar. Just as one cannot reach a star, it seemed impossible to reach Temar.
The blade of Bradamante, drawn with great effort, trembled uncontrollably in his hand.
Huff, huff…
Each ragged, heated breath felt like a bundle of blades slipping into his mouth. He would strike. He would cut. His mind, pure white, was filled with nothing but simple resolve.
To never break one’s will, no matter the circumstances.
To swing the sword ten thousand times until the beginning and the end were one and the same.
For a warrior who had just stepped into the ranks of the strong, what could be more magnificent? Though his body ached, Jin felt a deep satisfaction from this final trial.
“Even if I can’t see it, I am moving forward.”
Though he felt no sense of getting closer, that certainty pounded in his chest.
How long had he been walking?
Slowly, his darkened vision began to clear.
The faint outline of Temar grew distinctly nearer than before, and beside him stood a new woman—Misha, the Black Dragon.
Who was she?
Jin didn’t even entertain the thought upon seeing Misha. To be precise, there was no room for such distractions.
His heart was bound by an absolute will to cut down Temar Runkandel. No stray thoughts or doubts could intrude.
Who stood beside Temar was irrelevant. That could never be a reason for Jin to fail.
At that moment, Temar smiled once more.
Misha, clenching her fists tightly and staring only at Jin, didn’t see that smile.
“A spirited child… I never expected you to surpass my predictions so thoroughly, Solderet.”
The meaning of the third trial matched Jin’s expectations exactly.
To meet anyone with the will to “cut them down.” To face a giant like Temar Runkandel without despair.
But “getting completely close to where Temar stands” was not part of the trial.
This place was prepared not only for Jin Runkandel but for all Runekandel swordmasters who wield spirit energy.
Because of the humiliating pact Runekandel made with Ziphl, only now—after Temar’s death and a thousand years—has a new successor appeared.
Originally, any Runekandel swordmaster who had contracted with Solderet would have to pass through this land at least once.
Without that pact, over the past millennium, at least ten Runekandel swordmasters would have come here.
But how many of them could have done what Jin did? And with the body of a boy not yet twenty?
“Except for Sir Shiron Runkandel, the current head of the family, there’s no one. Or perhaps even he couldn’t have done it like that boy…”
Only about a hundred steps remained between Jin and Temar.
Though it was clear that an unimaginable amount of mental strength had been spent, for some reason, Jin’s pace quickened the closer he got to Temar.
If Temar’s energy trampling the great desert was fire, then time was the hammer.
Fire and time were forging Jin’s steel. The closer he got to Temar, the sharper he became.
He was becoming a sword.
At last.
The sword touched Temar.
Bradamante no longer trembled. It gleamed blue, soaked in the light of the midnight sun.
The blade bent back.
One step forward, one downward strike—and he could cut Temar down.
“No!”
Suddenly, Jin’s pupils dilated.
The moment he bent the blade, Temar vanished. Jin had come with nothing but the will to cut him down, yet cruelly, the mirage disappeared.
Those who run toward an oasis in the desert, only to realize it was a mirage, would not feel more despair than Jin did now.
“Temar!”
Jin shouted, slashing at empty air.
His cracked voice was thick with anguish. “Temar, where did you go? Temar!” Calling his ancestor’s name over and over, Jin swung his sword like a madman.
But Temar was gone.
The man who once stood tall here, radiating an aura worthy of a divine being, no longer existed.
“Damn it!”
Like thousands of taut threads snapping at once, the will that had driven Jin to walk burst forth.
What replaced it was emptiness. An indescribable sense of loss hollowed out his heart.
He swung his sword five more times in vain.
“If only that woman—the one standing beside Temar—knew something!”
Suddenly recalling Misha, Jin hurriedly turned his head.
But she, too, had vanished back into the desert’s barrier. From Jin’s perspective, she might as well have been a mirage.
“Hah…!”
With a heavy thud, Jin collapsed to the ground, bowing his head.
He couldn’t accept it. To cut down his brothers and the master he loved so dearly—all for the sake of cutting Temar.
It wouldn’t have mattered if it had been Torna’s brothers or Valeria, or anyone else. Murakan, Gili, Luna, Yona, Kashimir, Enya, Alisa—he would have cut them all down and moved on.
After enduring days that were nothing short of an abyss, he had finally reached Temar!
And yet—
“To end like this, so hollowly.”
Along with the emptiness came a surge of anger.
But he couldn’t take it out on the swirling sandstorms around him. He couldn’t just wait for Temar to reappear. His gut told him more strongly than ever that Temar would not return.
Slowly gathering himself, Jin surveyed his surroundings.
It took a long time to regain his composure.
“How ridiculous. I came all this way with the obsession to cut Temar down, even if it meant dying. But now that he’s gone, I realize I have no water, no food…”
When he faced the second mirage, Valeria, his supplies had already run dry. Though he had regained some energy after fighting her, that was all.
He couldn’t afford to despair and do nothing just because Temar had disappeared. Nor did he have the strength to move forward in search of an oasis.
It would have been better if he had never met Temar at all.
—When the third mirage ends, unleash your spirit energy. Then the Mingwang tribe will appear.
Following Murakan’s advice, Jin decided to release his spirit energy. After all, all three mirages had ended, and it seemed the Mingwang tribe’s turn had come.
Whoooosh…
Black spirit energy began to seep from Jin’s body.
He hadn’t realized it in his frustration, but his spirit energy had grown denser than before he entered the great desert. He had achieved something by completing the three trials.
He sat in meditation for a long time, releasing his spirit energy.
But the Mingwang tribe showed no sign of appearing.
“All three mirages are over…?”
Had Murakan been mistaken? Or did the Great Mitra Desert never actually have a spirit energy legacy site?
That uneasy thought flashed through his mind. No matter how much spirit energy he released, no one came.
Night passed.
The blue sun once again blazed with a blinding radiance, spewing unbearable heat. Jin could only stare at the shimmering desert with a stunned expression.
“Hahaha!”
Instead of cursing, laughter burst out.
He wanted to grab someone, anyone, and ask: What do you make of this absurd situation?
What more am I supposed to do here?
Aaaaargh!
He screamed and stood up. If he didn’t vent like this, he felt he might faint from frustration.
“Damn bastards, let’s see this through to the end. Yeah. Let’s see who breaks first.”
He didn’t even know who he was talking to.
Jin started walking again. Even if he never reached the spirit energy legacy site, he wouldn’t end his life in this cursed desert.
Just as he was about to take a heavy step forward, a voice called out.
“Passed.”
Startled, he turned around.
There stood a Suin—one of the half-beast people he had never seen before.
He looked almost human, except for the black fur covering his hands, a fist-sized gem embedded in the center of his chest, and a tail hanging from his rear.
The Mingwang tribe—those who had challenged the gods and were destroyed half a millennium ago.
Jin blinked several times, staring up at the towering figure over two meters tall. The Mingwang shaded his eyes from the sun, expressionless.
Jin didn’t even wonder where such a giant had come from. After nearly three weeks in the great desert, he was used to surprises.
“You would have failed if you had given up, sat down crying, or begged the heavens for mercy.”
“…What?”
“When the third mirage disappeared, you probably thought the trial was over. By Solderet’s standards, it was.”
“So, you’re saying… the trial ended just now? When the third mirage vanished?”
The Mingwang shrugged and nodded.
“Something like that. But by our standards, that’s not enough. If you’re not a warrior who can summon fighting spirit until the very end, you don’t deserve to be taught. By that measure, you’ve passed.”
Snikt!
Jin narrowed his eyes and drew Bradamante.
Before the Mingwang could say another word, Jin lunged.
Clang!
The Mingwang easily parried the surprise attack, smiling.
“Why so angry? Contracted to Solderet, huh? Want to fight?”
But Jin didn’t follow up with a second strike. Instead, he sheathed his sword again. Unlike the murderous glare from moments ago, his face was calm.
“No, what I mean is, you lot have been toying with me. At some point, I just had to strike with my sword to feel satisfied.”
“Oh? So you’re not scared just because your surprise attack didn’t work at all?”
He snorted.
This time, Jin burst out laughing.
“Do I look scared to you? If you want, I’ll keep fighting.”
The Lord of the Underworld’s tribe regarded Jin silently for a while, as if intrigued.
Then, a sly smile spread across his face.
“I like this. You’re very different from the humans I remember. Back then, most of them would just piss themselves at the sight of us.”
“So you only fought the weak, huh?”
“Ha! Well, you could put it that way. Back then, we were truly invincible.”
The Lord of the Underworld lightly tapped Jin’s shoulder, who remained silent.
“My name is Tantal. And you are?”
“Jin Runkandel.”
“Good, Jin Runkandel. Let me give you one piece of advice. I’m merciful enough to overlook your cheeky attitude, but when you meet the brothers of the Hall of the Fighting Gods, you’d better watch yourself.”
“The Hall of the Fighting Gods?”
“Exactly as it sounds—the brothers enshrined in the Hall of the Fighting Gods. They’re insanely powerful. If you talk like this in front of them, you’ll end up as a meal. They don’t care for you like I do.”
Tantal sliced the air with his sword.
At that moment, a massive dimensional gate opened, revealing the lost civilization of the Lord of the Underworld’s tribe.