Chapter 284
Episode 89: Temar’s First Tomb (5)
The dawn light was casting its glow over Baolai.
Murakan, clutching the key he had received, couldn’t shake off the bitter feelings swirling inside him. It wasn’t just bitterness—there was regret, sorrow, longing, self-mockery, and helplessness all gnawing at his heart.
A flood of heavy, dark emotions tore through his chest.
His friend.
More precious than anything else.
To Murakan, Temar had been that kind of person. He would have fought any battle alongside him, and if Temar’s life had been in danger, Murakan would have gladly given his own to save him.
But he hadn’t been able to.
If Murakan had to choose the single most painful thing in his life as a great black dragon who had lived for over three thousand years, it would undoubtedly be that.
[Myaa…]
Shuri licked Murakan’s shoulder. When there was no response after a long while, the little creature let out a soft, mournful cry before slipping back into the crimson gem.
‘Murakan…’
Jin, seeing this uncharacteristically sorrowful side of him, found himself at a loss for words.
In his past life, Jin had known the pain of losing someone dearer than anyone else.
On the day he was banished from the Garden of Swords, Gilly had endured a punishment worse than death—his aura sealed away.
Suddenly, the vivid image of Gilly’s last moments before the regression flashed through Jin’s mind, making his head spin.
Murakan’s hand, clutching the key, trembled slightly.
He soon pulled the key close to his chest with both hands. His grand, muscular frame looked oddly fragile, like a withered branch, and his silhouette seemed to waver.
Was he sobbing, his shoulders shaking? Out of pity for the friend he had hurt and left behind so long ago.
Jin quietly approached Murakan, feeling he should offer some comfort.
But then, in the next moment—
“…Ah, damn it. What the hell is this? Ugh.”
Murakan let out a rough, frustrated grunt.
“Huh? Murakan?”
“This key—no matter how much energy I pour into it, it’s not activating. All sorts of things are just making me annoyed… Hah, let’s see who wins. Damn toy.”
Murakan’s trembling back wasn’t from sobbing.
He was shaking from the effort of pouring his energy into the key.
And the way he pulled it close to his chest was the same.
At first, he had lightly infused it with energy using one hand, but when there was no response, he started pumping a large amount of energy into it with both hands.
“Come on, activate already! I feel like I’ve already fed it five stars’ worth!”
Jin felt a bit… bewildered.
But then he chuckled softly.
“Stop being so annoyed. Once we get back, I’ll send Gilly on vacation right away. You can go hang out with him somewhere then.”
Whip!
Murakan turned his head at lightning speed.
“Really!?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. Gilly doesn’t have to watch his behavior because of me.”
“Finally, you’re saying something worth hearing, kid. Hahaha, alright. If you’re giving me a long one, I’ll have fun playing with strawberry pie and all…”
“But what if Gilly just refuses? Have you thought about that?”
“What?”
“You seem to think that if there’s a vacation, Gilly would obviously accept your date request. But what if he says no? Can you handle that? The hurt would be big.”
Murakan, about to snap back, instead snorted.
“Hmph! Hahaha, you really don’t know anything. Well, you’ve been in Laprarosa since late ’97… Anyway, don’t change your tune. That won’t happen.”
Jin found himself oddly irritated by that answer.
‘It doesn’t seem like anything’s going on with Gilly, so where’s that confidence coming from? And why am I even worrying about their… relationship? Why am I so unlucky?’
‘I was just teasing the kid because I didn’t like him, but what if he really gets rejected?’
Of course, Jin and Murakan couldn’t read each other’s thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah. Just get that key to work, great black dragon.”
“Wait a sec. Hmm…!”
Murakan resumed pouring energy into the key.
But even as veins bulged in his neck and he poured in more energy, there was still no reaction.
“Soldret, damn it. Why the hell did you make a device like this?”
Murakan threw the key to the ground, breathing heavily.
“Am I using it wrong? Or did Pikon give me the wrong instructions?”
“Neither. I told you before, Soldret made a lot of these. Pikon wouldn’t have given you wrong info. This is definitely where Temar was buried. I can feel it.”
“Then why won’t it work?”
Whoooosh…!
Suddenly, Murakan transformed into his true form, and Jin instinctively scanned their surroundings.
The wide-open plains offered no cover for Murakan.
“After all that trouble coming back from the Holla Mountains, anyone would think I’m just standing out in the open. Why the sudden transformation?”
[It seems this key doesn’t activate with ordinary energy. I’ve poured in all the energy I can muster in human form.]
Jin flinched and looked up at Murakan.
“How much energy does this thing need?”
[We’re about to find out. Keep an eye around here. If any remnants of the Dark Magic Council show up, just kill them all.]
“There won’t be any of those.”
Shockingly, the key finally responded—eight whole hours later.
Fortunately, no one saw Murakan sitting quietly in the middle of Baolai, wrestling with a tiny object.
Huff, huff, huff…!
At the moment Murakan squeezed out the last of his energy, the key, which had been clutched at his fingertips, slowly began to rise into the sky.
[It’s, it’s done! Ugh, my whole body aches.]
“Is it over? Finally?”
Murakan shifted back to human form and stood beside Jin.
He looked thoroughly exhausted.
No, more than that—his face was pale as if he might collapse at any moment.
The key, soaring into the sky, stopped moving.
After a moment, the two of them felt the surroundings darken instantly, as if a release of energy had unfolded.
In fact, the sky darkened from the energy emitted by the key.
The energy from the key spread out, enveloping the entire vast Baolai in a hemispherical dome.
‘What is this? And with something this big, anyone could see it.’
Murakan looked just as surprised.
Just as he worried that their long journey back from the Holla Mountains might have been in vain, the energy dome covering Baolai began to shrink slowly.
It was as if some enormous being outside was grasping the dome with their hand.
The shrinking dome’s edge was about to reach Jin and Murakan.
And when the dome shrank to a single point and vanished completely—
Baolai was just as it had been before: hills covered in lush green grass.
But Jin and Murakan were nowhere to be seen.
They had been pulled into a pocket dimension made of energy.
“Hah, no wonder it needed so much energy. A pocket dimension…”
Murakan let out a bitter laugh.
Jin tensed up, alert to the sudden spatial shift, and scanned their surroundings.
An empty, dark, boundless space stretched out with no end in sight.
This desolate landscape was Temar Runkandel’s first tomb.
“Soldret hid this much, yet those Zipl bastards found it and ransacked it.”
Murakan shook his head, trying to control his anger.
“Make a flower out of energy, kid.”
Jin had never done it before.
But since it was just shaping energy, it wasn’t difficult.
He molded a funeral flower from energy and placed it on the ground.
“His body isn’t here, but at least he deserves a flower.”
After placing the flower, they stood in silent tribute.
Murakan as a friend, Jin as a descendant, both paying their respects.
“Kid.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
As their moment of silence ended, a breeze stirred from somewhere.
The wind gently erased the energy flower and drifted away without a care.
“The new blacksmith god, Pikon Minche, said you’d be able to meet those who carried Temar’s will here, right?”
“That’s right. He said something here was needed to strengthen Bradamante.”
“I’ve been thinking about what Temar’s first tomb might look like, especially since it’s probably been completely looted. What could possibly remain? I couldn’t come up with much.”
“And?”
“Seeing this pocket dimension, one thing suddenly came to mind.”
Murakan paused, overcome by a foreboding feeling.
Jin recalled his conversation with Pikon Minche.
—There is a region called Baolai in the Anz Great Plains, at its center. Infuse energy into this key there, and Temar’s first tomb will be revealed.
—Any precautions?
—Don’t be alarmed no matter what happens. That’s what Soldret told me to pass on to you.
—Anything else?
—No. I wish you good fortune, Jin Runkandel.
Good fortune.
That phrase had stuck with Jin.
Why would he need good fortune to face a ‘will’? It didn’t quite make sense.
“Kid, I think there’s a guardian. This tomb still has a guardian.”
“A guardian?”
“Right. It’s guarding the tomb. And the fact that Solderet went to the trouble of pouring so much spiritual energy into making this key means, at the very least, it was meant for someone who has enough power to use it to come here.”
Picon never mentioned any of that.
And Picon himself hadn’t heard anything about it from Solderet.
After all, without sufficient spiritual energy, no matter what, the key wouldn’t work.
There was just one problem.
The person who actually activated the key wasn’t Jin—it was Murakan.
And Murakan had drained all his spiritual energy doing it.
“…Murakan. Do you think the spiritual energy I have would’ve been enough to activate the key?”
“Not a chance. I, Murakan, spent a full eight hours pouring every last drop of my energy into it just to barely get it working. Your seven-star energy? No way.”
“So, in reality, I wasn’t even qualified to come here? Even if some guardian or whatever shows up, you’re completely drained and can’t fight?”
“Exactly… Well, I doubt anything serious will happen. Maybe there isn’t even a guardian. Whatever it is, we’ll find out soon enough.”
No sooner had Murakan finished speaking than a deep, resonant voice echoed from afar.
[Has Solderet’s contractor come to comfort Temar…?]
Murakan immediately recognized the voice and pressed his palm to his forehead. It was a voice he’d heard every day a thousand years ago.
“That’s… Silderay’s voice…!”
Silderay Jizek.
He was one of the greatest contributors when Temar founded the Runkandel family.
But he was a tragic knight whose history and legend were erased by Ziphl.
The one guarding this tomb was none other than the ‘will’ of Silderay Jizek himself.