Chapter 465
Episode 131: Those with Good Intuition, Those Without (9)
He barely twisted the sword.
Had he failed to change its trajectory, the blade glowing dark blue would have sliced through Amela in an instant, burning her alive. Relief washed over him that she was spared, but worry gnawed at him—could Murakan handle the hellfire?
“Ah, damn it!”
Murakan truly was Jin’s guardian dragon. Even though Jin had only called his name, Murakan understood exactly what was needed.
Whoosh!
Leaping toward Amela, Murakan swiftly transformed into his true form.
[Saved those snake eyes, and now you want me to take care of this too? Huh!]
Bang!
With a powerful swipe of his foreleg, he knocked Amela toward the Prochi siblings behind her. Her body bounced like a ball, bones cracking audibly, but the injuries healed instantly.
Had she touched the hellfire, recovery would have been impossible.
Landing between the Prochi siblings, Amela instinctively realized she would survive.
“Please, I surrender. Stop!”
The reason Amela pleaded with Jin was simple.
Intuition.
She sensed that panicking, flailing, or trying to block the attack recklessly would only lead to death. Instead, begging for mercy might somehow prompt Jin to reach out.
Her intuition was spot on.
[Kraaaaaah!]
Murakan clenched his lower abdomen and let out a furious roar.
Riding Bradamante, the spiritual energy and azure flames spread like a tidal wave. Now, Murakan had to bear Jin’s hellfire in Amela’s place.
The dark blue aura stained the core of the spiritual energy—the space they stood in—at once.
Like insects retreating from light, the surrounding spiritual energy rapidly withdrew.
This meant the hellfire Murakan had to block was enormous.
His amber eyes darkened with spiritual energy. Murakan unleashed his highest level of spiritual power, forming a barrier darker than the blue hellfire.
But the hellfire tore through the barrier with ease.
Still, the barrier reformed instantly each time it was ripped, continuously holding back the onslaught.
[Hey, stop it already!]
With every layer torn, the flames crept closer to Murakan.
His nerves were shot.
For the first time in a long while, Murakan thought of those five words: “My ass is on fire.”
No matter how great he was, his prime was behind him. If he took a direct hit like this with his body still not fully healed…
He shook his head in frustration. The thought of being bedridden with serious injuries—or worse, being tormented under the guise of treatment by Misha—made his claws dig in tightly.
Maybe it would be just a minor injury. Maybe he’d spend a happy, carefree time being nursed by Strawberry Pie. Was he worrying over nothing, just because of a little kid’s flames?
But then, the hellfire grew even fiercer, painting his vision a deep blue. He let out a bitter laugh.
No way. If he didn’t give it his all, this could become an indelible stain on the history of the great Black Dragon Murakan.
(Black Dragon Murakan, gravely wounded by the sword wielded by his own ward… Was he truly the Overlord of the Heavens from a thousand years ago?)
(Testimony of Kadun, the Flame Dragon of Keliak Ziphl: “He’s actually weak.” Is that the truth?)
(Jin Runkandel, the contractor of Solderet, punishing negligent guardian dragons—does he really enforce hierarchy as Runkandel should?)
(The Twelve Riders who felled a guardian dragon with a single strike. Who protects whom? The Black Dragon Murakan and countless other guardian dragons must be on alert…)
Suddenly, absurd headlines flooded his mind.
He had ruled as overlord for over three thousand years. He would not allow such disgrace. He’d rather die than live in shame.
The spiritual barrier could no longer hold back the hellfire. Fireballs poured through the rips, and Murakan had no choice but to shield himself with spiritual energy.
He roared until his throat tore. The moment the fireballs touched his scales, excruciating pain stabbed and scraped his mind like needles.
[Krooooot!]
His massive black body trembled as he pushed back the flames. His clenched teeth shook unsteadily, and cold sweat seemed to drip beneath his scales.
His contorted face twisted into an even more grotesque grimace.
He was certain that one step back would mean the end. He might survive, but Amela would be reduced to ashes without a trace.
“Murakan…!”
Jin called out again, worry thick in his voice.
[Don’t talk to me! It breaks my concentration!]
“Sorry!”
Jin was trying to reclaim some of the energy used in the hellfire, but the technique was so immense and fully unleashed that it was like trying to pour back a spilled cup. A few drops could be salvaged, but most had already escaped.
Clack! A disturbing sound echoed deep within Murakan’s chest.
Near his heart.
And this was not the first time he’d heard it.
‘My heart…!’
When Temar had shattered his heart, a similar sound had echoed. Scales bristled as dread surged.
But something was strange.
If his heart had cracked, his strength should have rapidly waned. Instead, it felt like power was welling up uncontrollably.
Like an endless spring, or an oil well bursting in the desert!
The strength he’d been barely holding back to block the hellfire now surged from his heart, spreading through his entire body. The pleasure and fullness of the spiritual energy made his neck muscles twitch painfully.
‘Could it be… my old power… is returning? The strength of this body!’
The damage near his heart was the work of the one he despised most—his sister, Misha.
When she had treated him in the past, Misha had installed a kind of safety mechanism in his heart. To prevent him from overexerting his already injured heart.
At the time, Misha had set the safety threshold at 40%. Using more than 40% of his old power risked damaging his recovering heart.
And now, Murakan had unknowingly released the safety lock, pushing toward 50%.
It was like removing some stitches from a healing wound.
The reason the safety lock disengaged wasn’t because Murakan forced himself to use power out of desperation, but because his heart had already recovered to the 50% safety threshold Misha had anticipated.
A 10% difference was no small matter. Like the sky-high gap between a 10-star and a 9-star rank.
“Ha! Ha ha! Hahaha—!”
Suddenly, Murakan burst into a roaring laugh.
The spiritual energy that had been retreating vanished completely, and the core beneath their feet cracked like shattered glass, regaining the true colors of the Gaipa Archipelago.
In other words, the sky opened, and the surroundings cleared.
The massive form of Bubarr, who had towered over the central island, intimidating the four great powers, began to fade, becoming almost transparent.
Bubarr had barely moved since Amela faced Jin, but now it was disappearing entirely.
And with that terrifying laughter shaking the entire island…
The four great powers struggling outside couldn’t help but feel their hearts drop.
“That voice!”
“It’s the voice of the Sixth Rider, the family guardian deity, Murakan!”
“Could it be… the youngest…!”
The knights of Vugo and Runkandel widened their eyes in shock.
“Black Dragon Murakan? So Jin Runkandel was here all along!”
“Commander, the royal mages’ contractors were ordered to avoid the Black Dragon at all costs during missions!”
“Even during the recent Black King incident, the Flame Dragon of Ziphl and the Azure Dragons fled in fear…!”
The members of Bimant were also terrified.
“Wow, Your Majesty! I’m so scared I can’t stand!”
“You idiots, the Red Wolf bastards! Don’t you get it? You wolves! If even you’re trembling, what are we supposed to do?”
“You—you’re probably shaking too. If that thing comes near…! It even smells like the Lord of Death’s clan! We have to run!”
The beastmen of Kinzel, especially the Red Wolf tribe, immediately fell into panic.
Unlike the White Wolf tribe, the Red Wolves were strong fighters but lacked the warrior spirit. It was their nature, but they also had a keener instinct for fear and danger than the White Wolves.
“H-His Black Dragon? Then… Jin… Runkandel is here…”
Finally, Midor Elner of Ziphl clenched his teeth, eyes blazing red upon hearing Murakan’s laughter.
Who were Jin Runkandel and Murakan? They were the sworn enemies of Myuron Ziphl, the brother he loved most in the world.
“Even the Flame Dragon Theo and the Azure Dragon Laramacua turned back when they faced Murakan. We have to retreat, Tower Lord!”
“Given that the giant figure has vanished, it’s highly likely that the mercenary Amela has already fallen to Murakan! Seventh Tower Lord, I understand your desire to avenge the former Tower Lord, but we must fall back now!”
Whoosh!
Midoru summoned flames with his magic.
“Seventh Tower Lord!”
“Hold your ground!”
The mages of the Seventh Tower, both elders and commoners alike, were trying to restrain Midoru.
But there was one woman who, instead of concern, was laughing gleefully at Midoru’s frustration.
Even as Midoru’s anger surged to its peak, he kept glancing nervously at her.
“…If Lady Sandra orders a retreat, then so be it.”
“Kya ha ha! That bastard bastard, well-trained after all. Even now, you’re watching my reaction, huh? How admirable.”
Her name was Sandra Ziphl, daughter of Kelliac.
Just as Sandra laughed and was about to say more—
Rumble—!
Suddenly, a powerful earthquake shook the entire island.
It was the result of Murakan pushing away the ‘Flame of Wrath’ he had been holding back with his body.
And, as if releasing a safety lock on his heart, he unintentionally—
Soared into the sky, still clutching the Flame of Wrath.
Moreover, the flame had darkened, mixing and clashing with Murakan’s spiritual energy, leaving only faint traces of blue fire.
[I am Murakan!]
He shouted as he hurled the Flame of Wrath toward the ground.
People couldn’t help but mistake it for some kind of technique Murakan was unleashing, rather than a jin spirit.
“Get out of the way…!”
“Fall back behind the Royal Tigers—no! Behind the Elite Warriors! The White Wolves, cover the Red Tigers!”
“Shields! Raise the shields! Quickly!”
“Damn it! Group up and form a shield!”
The four great factions were left horrified at the sight of the Flame of Wrath Murakan had thrown.