Chapter 279
Episode 88: The Delegation of Congratulations, An Unexpected Encounter (5)

The tragic first head of the Runcandel clan—ancestor of the line, yet never laid to rest in the ancestral tomb.

A man whose mere lingering presence in the Mirage Desert easily overshadowed the entire expanse of Mitra.

“Temar… the land where he was first buried?”

That brief phrase carried at least two pieces of crucial information.

First, Temar’s grave definitely exists somewhere. Second, his remains were moved at least once.

Up until now, Jin had only sought to obtain the empty Branshue before anyone else, based on memories from his previous life. But now, it seemed he was about to hear an unexpected secret.

Since his return, there were only two people who stirred a kind of ‘competitive spirit’ within Jin.

His father, Siron Runcandel, and the clan’s progenitor, Temar Runcandel.

From the days of the Storm Age, Jin had vaguely aspired to surpass these two, and as he grew, that vague thought sharpened into a clear goal.

There had been countless moments when he was curious about their old stories.

Unlike himself, a reincarnator, they were superhumans who had reached the edge of oblivion in a single lifetime.

“Did Solderet really give you such an order?”

Calming his excitement, Jin decided to listen carefully to Picon’s words.

[An order? While it’s true that Solderet worshipped me as a god, I was his equal and close friend even in my mortal days. In fact, I chose this tedious immortality for his sake.]

Solderet’s habit of mingling casually with mortals was unique.

Most other gods maintained strictly hierarchical relationships—except for ambiguous figures like Olmango, the god of shells.

That was why Murakan, a mere creature, could call Solderet “that guy” or “this guy” (Misha, on the other hand, showed proper reverence). Jin himself had spoken comfortably with him in his previous life.

[Though I did make a mistake with you at first, I apologize once again. At least recognize me as a close friend of your god.]

Picon’s tone was polite, but he clearly disliked Jin’s intimidating manner of speech.

“Understood. I also apologize for the violence I inflicted upon you, Lord Picon.”

A legendary blacksmith, now a god, and a source of vital information for Jin.

It wasn’t difficult to appease someone like Picon.

[Hmm! Very well, thank you. But how did you know I was here and find me?]

“I didn’t know. I was simply trying to meet the empty Branshue, and by chance, I encountered you, Lord Picon.”

[Oh? Just fate, then. How mysterious. Solderet really was looking a thousand years ahead.]

Jin didn’t agree with Picon’s words but nodded nonetheless.

If Solderet were truly an omnipotent being who could foresee fate a millennium ahead, Jin wouldn’t have died so pointlessly and needed to reincarnate.

Of course, Jin didn’t look down on Solderet just because he wasn’t perfectly omnipotent.

Though nearly twenty years had passed since he last heard Solderet’s voice as his contractor, Jin still felt immeasurable gratitude toward him.

“It’s honestly hard for me to accept that Groller died and that you became the new god of blacksmithing, Lord Picon.”

[From your perspective, that’s understandable.]

“Even more, the empty Branshue was just moments ago kidnapped and nearly killed. Seeing you manifest in his body, I thought you could have easily subdued the threat. Why did you let it happen?”

[Very few know that the god of blacksmiths died. Before meeting you, I judged that revealing my power recklessly could make me a target for Solderet’s enemies.]

“So you planned to stay hidden until I appeared.”

[Exactly. Ziphl, considering what those madmen did to Temar’s tomb, I had no choice but to conceal myself.]

“What if the thieves harmed the empty Branshue?”

[Even then, I would have remained still. Even if he died.]

Then, in my previous life, I must have been discovered around age twenty-four, when the compass was in enemy hands.

Or perhaps, for some reason, Picon broke his promise with Solderet.

Jin swallowed those thoughts and nodded.

[I was also troubled seeing my descendants live such meager lives. After becoming a god, I only contracted with my direct descendants. But to keep my promise with Solderet, I had no choice.]

“…Wait, does that mean your descendants have never received any benefits as contractors? Because of me?”

[That’s right.]

The moment he heard that, it felt like a rock slammed into his chest.

Picon’s direct descendants surely could have lived comfortably with support from the Minche Blacksmith Association, even without talent.

But Picon himself hid his first direct descendants—his son and daughter—just before becoming a god.

Since then, those descendants Jin had never even met lived lives stripped of the benefits they should have enjoyed.

Some even rose to become guild leaders and lived quite well, but most endured a bleak reality like the empty Branshue.

Not a single one blossomed as a blacksmith.

Because Picon deliberately suppressed their potential, fearing he would become a target.

“Everyone was sacrificing themselves for me? Because of Solderet and Picon’s unilateral decisions?”

Suddenly, memories of what happened in Colon surfaced.

[I was waiting for someone to take this. The contractor Solderet spoke of, a thousand years hence—the very boy.]

What Klam, who descended through Laosa, had said.

At the time, Jin thought he had simply resolved the tragedy the Colon people suffered.

But no. They, too, like Picon Minche’s descendants, had been unknowingly sacrificing themselves for Jin.

Greatly so.

It felt unfair and cruel. Jin himself had once struggled through dark times, unaware he was cursed.

Reading Jin’s thoughts, Picon quietly added:

[I know what you’re thinking. But understand, this was the best we could do.]

Why did you sacrifice your descendants for me? I never asked for that.

Jin knew that shouting now would be meaningless—not just for Picon’s long-deceased descendants, but for himself as well.

It was just a complaint.

The past couldn’t be undone, and Jin could only—

Carry a deep sense of responsibility. For the countless people who had sacrificed themselves unknowingly for him.

And he had to produce results.

Whatever Solderet intended, Jin had to realize what he believed was right.

That process naturally included the destruction of Ziphl—and now, one more thing was added.

To ensure no one else would ever have to sacrifice themselves for him again.

Of course, he couldn’t bear the entire world’s burdens alone forever, but at least he wanted to prevent such unjust suffering.

Achieving that would require countless factors.

The first was overwhelming power. Power so strong that no one would dare offer themselves as a sacrifice for him.

The second was an absolute force to back him up.

Those two things could be attained by reaching the pinnacle of Runcandel. The desire to ascend the throne burned anew within him.

“Do not stop me from supporting the empty Branshue. This applies to the descendants he will have as well.”

[…Understood.]

“And thank you for all your hard work.”

The sacrifices weren’t only Picon’s descendants.

Picon Minche himself must have been tormented by guilt every time he couldn’t help his descendants.

“Though judging by how he suddenly barked at Branshue to take Bradamante… maybe not? He did talk about raising him properly, after all.”

In any case, Picon seemed deeply moved by Jin’s words.

His eyes, with stark white sclera, glistened with moisture.

[Solderet, your last contractor isn’t so bad after all. I can pour my soul into forging your sword.]

“I’ve been curious—what do you mean by ‘forging Bradamante’? And please tell me the significance of Temar, the place where my ancestor was first buried.”

[First, as you know, Bradamante was a prototype for creating Barisada. Yet, to you Runcandels and others, it’s regarded as a legendary sword only slightly inferior to Barisada.]

Bradamante and Barisada.

It was Solderet who requested Picon to craft these twin swords.

As the god of swords and shadows, he believed his contractor, Temar Runcandel, needed a special blade.

But while Barisada was a ‘perfect finished product,’ Bradamante was a problematic sword.

At least by Picon Minche’s standards.

[Even as a prototype, I poured all my skill into it. It’s a magnificent sword. In terms of spirit energy attacks, it can reach about 60% of Barisada’s power, and it’s forged from ancient eternal steel, so it never breaks…]

For a while, Picon praised Bradamante like a proud parent showing off a child.

Having been a blacksmith to his core even in his mortal days (far beyond ordinary standards), he actually loved the masterpieces he forged more than his own blood.

Bradamante was his third such masterpiece, so naturally, he rambled on.

[…But Bradamante’s one and only flaw is that it doesn’t protect its user.]

“Protect? It’s not armor.”

[I’ve made countless armors in my life, but I’ve never seen anything better than armor formed from spirit energy. That’s why when I made Barisada, I embedded a mechanism to form armor when spirit energy is infused.]

In other words, Picon wanted to add that function to Bradamante as well.

One of the biggest reasons he decided to become a god, following Solderet’s will, was his desire as a blacksmith to transform an unfinished masterpiece into a perfect work.

[Then hand over Bradamante. I’ll forge it properly and return it to you.]

When Jin handed over Bradamante without hesitation, Picon trembled with emotion, almost as if overwhelmed.

[At last, I can make my child whole…!]

“How long will it take?”

Jin didn’t exactly like how he seemed to care more about objects than people, even his own kin.

But geniuses at the peak of their craft often stray far from the norm, sometimes twisted in strange ways, so it wasn’t unfamiliar.

[It’ll take at least half a year. You’ll need to gather quite a few materials.]

“Understood.”

[And one of those is where Temar was first buried.]

“So, Temar was reinterred. That means there was an exhumation, which wouldn’t have been necessary unless someone attacked or looted the grave. You also said Ziphl did something to Temar’s tomb. Yet there’s still something left there?”

Picon grinned slyly.

[There is. The will of the great knights. You’ll have to face those who embodied Temar’s spirit there.]