Episode 39
Chapter 15: Kinzello’s Misunderstanding
Meanwhile, the Jin Squad—
Contrary to everyone’s expectations in the intermediate class, they had been steadily racking up easy victories against the orcs for several days now. Out of the twenty-five orcs designated for extermination, they had already taken down seventeen.
“Eighteen down! You know, we might actually make it back without losing a single person,” Skut said, pulling his sword free from the orc they’d just slain.
“Let’s go back and completely crush the smug faces of those who thought we’d fail. I was worried it might hurt the young master’s reputation, but it might actually do the opposite,” Taimant added with a grin.
“There are still seven left. No slacking off until we get every last one,” Mesa snapped, though inside he was smiling.
‘It really feels like the gods have blessed us. Or maybe it’s the young master Jin himself. That good energy must be rubbing off on us,’ the entire Jin Squad thought.
Normally, orcs moved in packs and operated with military precision, but for some reason, these orcs were coming at them one by one, in order, and without any urgency. It was almost as if they were making themselves easy targets.
“Back to the search! Stay alert, everyone!”
The Jin Squad gathered the ears of the fallen orcs and moved back into formation.
Hidden in the bushes, a man watched their backs.
‘Once they take down the last seven, maybe I can finally go home…’
The man wore a bored expression. This was Murakan.
While Mesa believed the gods’ blessing was protecting them, the real shield was the presence of this black dragon.
Murakan had arrived in the unprotected region of the Kurano Duchy even before the Jin Squad and had gathered the orcs together.
Then he had said:
—“Listen up, you orc bastards. From today on, you’re all going solo. If I catch even one of you moving in packs or sticking together, I’ll kill every last one of you. Got it?”
Orcs couldn’t disobey the orders of the great black dragon.
Especially when those orders were given in the ‘Dragon’s Tongue,’ the sacred language that symbolized the dragons’ power. Controlling the minds of low-level monsters with the Dragon’s Tongue was as easy as falling asleep.
That was why the Jin Squad had only ever faced orcs one at a time—though they had no idea.
‘Anyway, that Jin guy looks like he’s going to keep making me deal with these annoying requests for a while. Damn it, just because he’s a thousand-year contract holder doesn’t mean he can boss me around. Yeah, boss me around. Damn title, that’s all it is!’
By dawn the next day, the Jin Squad had exterminated the remaining seven orcs.
“We did it!”
“We really did it!”
For once, even Mesa didn’t try to steal the spotlight and instead cheered with his comrades. They had finished the mission a full day ahead of schedule.
“We’ll camp here until the afternoon, then return to the Garden of Blades after waking up! Each person takes a 45-minute watch. Malburn, you’re on breakfast duty.”
The camp was set.
Murakan lay down in the nearby grass, planning to pass the time until afternoon by looking through a collection of erotic paintings he’d brought along.
Just gazing at the pictures calmed his irritation. Taking care of these human kids, something he was never cut out for, had kept him from enjoying this little pleasure until now.
‘When I get back, I’ll have Jin get me a few limited-edition volumes. Heh, just thinking about that makes this whole thing not so bad…’
Thud.
Suddenly, Murakan closed the book with a sigh.
From far off near the Jin Squad’s camp, a dangerous aura was detected. He didn’t yet know what it was or what it wanted, but two things were clear:
The presence was slowly approaching the camp.
And it was a very powerful being.
‘Looks like I’m not going home just yet. This isn’t going to be worth it. Where the hell did this thing come from?’
Murakan grimaced and stood up.
It was a relief that the Jin Squad’s strength was still only around three stars. Even if Murakan set up a massive barrier around the camp, they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the darkness of dawn and shadows.
Fssssss…!
A surge of spiritual energy began to gather in Murakan’s hands.
This was a different level of energy than when he first awakened after meeting Jin in the underground storm fortress. Having spent time with Jin and breathing in his abundant energy, Murakan was slowly regaining the power of the black dragon that once shook the world.
“Hm?”
As Murakan’s barrier enveloped the entire camp, Bellop, who was on the first watch, tilted his head in confusion.
The surroundings seemed darker than before. Bellop didn’t notice the barrier—he just thought the twilight was deepening.
A heavy gust of wind blew, and Murakan’s entire body was soon shrouded in black energy. Moments later, he revealed his true form: the black dragon.
His massive twin wings blocked the dawn moon. Every nearby monster, beast, and even the smallest creature trembled instinctively in fear.
The powerful presence approaching the camp stopped moving. It had sensed Murakan.
[Who dares to emit energy without my permission?]
Murakan cut across the night sky in an instant. Backlit by the dawn moon, the black dragon radiated an aura so majestic it could be mistaken for a divine emissary.
No answer came.
And Murakan was not known for mercy when in his true form. With each beat of his wings, a black storm raged down.
A storm of shadows. It snapped the great trees of the forest like twigs and drove toward the source of the energy.
Only then did the figure lying in the forest rise. Murakan paused his wingbeats as he confirmed the presence.
A colossal figure, nearly the size of a fortress, made entirely of stone. Beneath an ancient magical helmet, two glowing red eyes burned fiercely.
In its hands, a massive spear and shield.
It was the so-called ‘Graveyard Giant.’
[…Hah, not a living being, but a relic of a bygone era.]
Murakan was surprised to see the Graveyard Giant.
These giants had vanished two thousand years ago. They once guarded the tombs of dead gods, but the dragons had wiped them out.
In other words, this being should not exist here.
As Murakan landed carefully, the Graveyard Giant raised its shield. For a moment, Murakan looked down at it with a strange mix of emotions.
[But I’m not exactly pleased to see you.]
The Graveyard Giant let out a rough breath and lowered its stance. Murakan tightened his scales, preparing to unleash his breath.
Even if it left some traces, the Graveyard Giant had to be finished quickly.
Darkness gathered between Murakan’s open jaws. Within seconds, the energy amassed was enough to cover an entire mountain range.
Sssshhh!
The breath shot out, plunging the surroundings into darkness. The Graveyard Giant bent one knee and hid behind its shield, but it was no match for Murakan’s full power.
“Graaah…!”
All the Graveyard Giant could do was let out a death scream. Just like the last of its kind who faced the dragons two millennia ago.
Crackling.
When the breath faded, only dust rained down where the Graveyard Giant had stood.
“Phew, ha…!”
Murakan transformed back into human form, panting heavily. Using so much power after a long time made his whole body feel like it was breaking apart.
‘There’s no way this was just a leftover Graveyard Giant. Damn it, no matter how I look at it, this has to be connected to Jiple. What the hell is going on in this world?’
Murakan shook his head in frustration.
‘For now, it’s better not to tell Jin. If anything happens, I’ll protect him. If the kid grows well for just ten more years… then maybe he’ll be ready to take on Jiple.’
The next morning, in the underground workshop of Bubarr Gaston’s sculpture studio—
Bubarr paced anxiously through the basement, his large frame tense. He kept biting his thumbnail, nerves fraying him to the edge.
Creak.
A man entered the basement. Wearing a tight-fitting coat and sharp eyes, his cold expression belonged to Vishkel Ibliano.
He was the deputy leader of the revolutionary group, Kinzello.
“V-Vishkel! There’s a problem! My artwork—my artwork has been destroyed!”
“…I’ve already heard the details. The Graveyard Giant was taken down last night.”
“That’s right! Who could have done such a terrible thing…! They don’t understand the spirit of art!”
Vishkel sighed deeply.
It was heartbreaking that this ‘spirit of art’ was essential to Kinzello’s grand plan.
“Bubarr, your precious art isn’t the priority right now. The one who took down the Graveyard Giant last night was a dragon.”
“A dragon?”
“Yes. A dragon that controls shadows. I confirmed it myself.”
Vishkel’s nerves were on edge.
Kinzello’s grand plan had been in the works for five hundred years.
Now, as it neared its final stages, an accident had suddenly occurred. And most of the dragons currently active were allied with Jiple.
Bubard finally stopped fussing.
“…No, this won’t do. You’re telling me the dragons have already caught wind of our grand plan? And shadow dragons, no less?”
“Nothing’s certain yet, but the warning is clear enough. I’ll arrange a meeting with Ziphl soon. In the meantime, keep a close eye on this side. I’ll assign some capable people to assist you.”
“Understood, ugh! Oh, by the way, Vishkel, have you had breakfast? I’m craving sweet potato croquettes.”
Vishkel barely held back his rising anger as he spoke.
Once again, he vowed to himself that one day, he would personally kill this disgusting fool.
“…Alright, I’ll bring some. We’ll eat together.”
“Hehe, sounds great. And if you don’t mind, please bring some fresh milk too.”