Chapter 307
Episode 93: Temar’s Second Tomb (5)

He drew his sword.

A chilling sensation crawled along his fingertips—the eerie feeling of bone and organs brushing against the blade.

As the guardian fell, the raging flames of karmic fire that had engulfed the surroundings began to die down rapidly.

All those blazing fires vanished as if they had never existed. Tiny, warm embers drifted through the air like scattered pollen.

The flames that had wrapped around the guardian’s body faded away.

From his body, marred by grievous wounds, spiritual energy continuously leaked out. His breathing was labored, but then, as if accepting the end, it grew calm.

[Sara!]

Murakan landed hastily on the ground and shifted back into his human form.

Though forced to fight until now, in Murakan’s heart, Sara remained a long-time friend and comrade.

Even if this was not the real Sara, but a guardian fashioned in her image, the true soul of Sara Runkandel was undoubtedly intertwined within.

Watching the guardian’s final moments was unbearably cruel for Murakan. Even if the battle had been fought by him and Jin, alongside their comrades, to grant the guardian peace.

Quikantel also transformed into human form and took a place beside Murakan, biting his lower lip with a troubled expression.

[Murakan…]

“Yes, it’s me. Murakan. Damn it, has your mind finally come back? Only now, after all this?”

His voice trembled with passion. Murakan bent down and grasped the guardian’s hand. It was cold—so cold that it was hard to believe it belonged to someone who had wielded such magnificent flames despite their shattered body.

[You and Solderet’s new contractor…]

The guardian paused mid-sentence.

The phrase “new contractor” stirred a forgotten truth in Murakan’s mind. Temar was dead, and the once-glorious old Runkandel had vanished into history.

Only now had Murakan belatedly come to find himself, and the ones witnessing the final moments after a long struggle were not the Runkandel swordmasters, but the Silver Dragon and a host of unfamiliar faces—mere bystanders.

[…Fortunately, you still had enough strength to break me when I was weakened.]

Sara… what on earth happened?

What kind of end did Temar meet a thousand years ago? Why did Solderet mold you as guardians of the tomb? And what exactly was Ziphl trying to find by rummaging through that tomb?

Why did Solderet leave the story to you, not to me or Misha? What were the things I never knew back then, and why…?

Murakan couldn’t bring himself to ask Sara these questions.

He felt unworthy. Whatever the reasons, the guilt of not standing with his comrades until the end stabbed deep like a blade in his heart.

Above all, Murakan was no longer Temar’s guardian dragon. The old Runkandel was no longer his.

By Solderet’s design, uncovering the truth had become Jin’s responsibility.

Murakan’s role now was to assist Jin as his guardian dragon.

“You’ve been through a lot on your own. I’m sorry.”

He expected a sharp retort, like before in Shildray.

But the guardian looked Murakan straight in the eye and replied,

[As much as we suffered, you too must have felt pain. There’s nothing to apologize for.]

Murakan said nothing, gripping Sara’s hand tightly.

[But Quikantel, it’s truly unexpected that you came here. Didn’t you and your god agree to remain neutral? Have you changed your mind?]

Even though his mind had returned, Murakan’s sense of betrayal toward Quikantel remained.

“You Runkandels hold Temar’s orders as absolute, and I cannot oppose the will of Olta-sama either.”

[Yes, you’re a dragon, so I suppose that’s inevitable. I don’t fault you for it. But, Lord, remember this—my elder brother would risk his life for you anytime.]

At the mention of “elder brother,” Jin’s eyes widened.

Sara Runkandel was Temar’s younger sister.

[I hope your proud god does not stand idly by in the battles that child must face.]

Like Murakan, Quikantel had no answer.

Yet, despite the betrayal, Sara did not truly hate or despise Quikantel.

[Still, there is one thing I’m grateful for. Thanks to you, I avoided the mistake of killing Murakan and that child with my own hands.]

Indeed, without Quikantel’s power, Jin would not have been able to strike down the guardian.

The guardian met Jin’s gaze.

[Jin Runkandel.]

“Yes, Lady Sara.”

[A rare defeat, indeed. We have grown weary from the long, old battles, and I showed you an unfavorable side.]

“You guarded this place alone for a thousand years. It was not a bad sight at all.”

The skeletal remains of the ancient mages that had filled the pocket dimension were now nowhere to be found. When the karmic fire flared, they had all turned to ash and vanished.

From behind, comrades who had been maintaining a protective barrier approached Jin.

Unlike Murakan or Quikantel, they had no memories with Sara, nor did they carry the burden of being descendants like Jin.

Yet, somehow, they could not harbor ill feelings toward Sara, who had once tried to kill them.

They seemed to understand, without explanation, the hardships she had endured.

At the same time, they felt powerless.

To fight alongside Jin, they realized they could no longer live carelessly as before.

[Thank you for thinking that way, Jin, my distant descendant.]

“Please speak.”

[What is Runkandel like now?]

“It can’t compare to the times I never experienced.”

[Ziphl must still be manipulating the world as he pleases.]

Jin nodded.

The guardian felt the chill of death as his spiritual energy continued to drain.

A faint breeze escaped his trembling lips.

[We have burdened you greatly.]

“Becoming Solderet’s contractor and inheriting the will of our ancestors has always felt more like an opportunity than a burden. So please don’t think of it that way.”

It was true.

Compared to the miserable life he had before reincarnation, this life was nothing short of a blessing.

Moreover, Jin was not merely inheriting the old Runkandel’s will.

He was carving out a new life with his own resolve.

[You have a way with words. Come closer.]

The guardian could no longer see Jin clearly; his eyes had gone completely blind.

Gilly patted Murakan’s shoulder from behind, and Enya held Quikantel’s hand.

[From now on, the teenage knight Sara Runkandel, as guardian of Temar Runkandel’s tomb, will pass on all that I possess to you, Jin Runkandel.]

Jin bowed his head.

Suddenly, glowing runes appeared all over the guardian’s body—runes that had never been visible before.

‘Runes…?’

Even where his missing arm should have been, and over the hole in his chest, the runes shone brightly.

These runes contained the secret sword techniques of Runkandel’s magic sword, painstakingly developed by Sara Runkandel over her lifetime.

Karmic Fire—Sara Runkandel.

This was not Solderet’s arrangement, but a legacy the guardian left behind of her own free will.

Like a soul departing, the runes flowed out from Sara’s body and seeped into Jin.

With each rune inscribed, memories of the karmic fire that Sara had mastered were transmitted to Jin.

Much like the memory transfer method unique to the Mingwang tribe shown by King Boras of Otu, or Hister’s own inherited magic.

[I hoped someone worthy of wielding this sword would come. One small wish has been fulfilled.]

Unlike the runes Jin had previously inscribed on his body, the guardian’s runes did not normally show—they only glowed when karmic fire was unleashed.

“…You give me an unexpected and great gift.”

[You think I give you only comfort? It is thanks to you that I can finally find peace.]

Sara’s body was dissolving into particles of spiritual energy.

The spiritual energy that had flowed in place of blood now rose like fine dust, swirling gently upward, gradually enveloping Jin’s body.

Just like in Shildray, Jin was about to enter another pocket dimension filled with old stories.

“Do you have any last words, Lady Sara?”

[I hope no one suffers too much.]

Not “you,” but “everyone.”

At those words, Murakan and Quikantel flinched and clenched their teeth.

They would have preferred if she had at least blamed them for coming so late.

But as she departed, instead of leaving harsh words, she left a brief reflection on the lonely battle that had lasted a thousand years.

[At last… I can go to my elder brother and comrades.]

At last, the guardian’s body completely transformed into particles of spiritual energy.

Jin and his comrades bowed their heads briefly in silence.

The spiritual energy swirled softly, producing a faint sound.

“I will disappear into another pocket dimension for a while. Don’t be alarmed—please wait patiently, everyone.”

Zzzt… zzzzt.

Then, from somewhere, a distant voice echoed again.

“…stopping… Sara… Runkandel.”

“…stopping… Sara…”

Though faint, the voice was unmistakably someone Jin knew better than anyone.

‘That’s Murakan’s voice…!’

None of the others could hear it.

Jin turned sharply to look at Murakan, but he too seemed unable to hear his own old voice.

Only Jin could hear it.

As the voice echoed, the swirling spiritual energy completely enveloped Jin.

When the particles of spiritual energy vanished, the comrades could only stare blankly at the spot where Jin and Sara had been.

When Jin opened his eyes again, he was met with the same hollow darkness as in the first tomb.

A pocket space within a pocket space.

But unlike the first tomb, this pocket space was clearly not intact.

Grotesque cracks riddled the darkness, and the entire space trembled as if shaken by an earthquake.

An ominous, static-like noise, born from the collapsing space, relentlessly scraped against his eardrums.

Since Sarah had been wounded from the long battle, the pocket space she harbored was also damaged.

Jin instinctively understood this and moved forward.

He headed toward the source of the voice, searching for the recording device Solderet had left behind.

After a moment, a massive sphere glowing with an ashen light came into view.

As he drew closer, Murakan’s previously faint voice grew clearer.

We have to stop it…

We have to stop it, Sarah Runcandel.

The sphere displayed a scene from a thousand years ago—Murakan and Sarah deep in conversation.

Both were drenched in blood as if they had just finished a fight, their clothes and armor torn in places.

Sarah glared at Murakan.

“What do you mean by ‘stop it’? You don’t mean… kill the Gaju, do you? Are you seriously saying we should give up on the Gaju…?”

Murakan said nothing in response, only pressing his forehead with a weary hand.