Chapter 543
Episode 145. Omen (12)

Being seen through by a young man barely of age, far beneath him in rank, age, and experience, was undoubtedly a blow to Keliak’s pride.

Yet, he concealed any hurt to his ego, wiping away his smile to reveal nothing but raw, honest hatred.

That deep, terrible hatred was like a swamp, and just facing it made Jin feel his body grow heavy.

And the fact that Keliak deliberately showed his hatred was proof that he acknowledged Jin.

“Indeed, the overwhelming presence befitting the Absolute of Ziphl.”

Hatred.

Looking back on everything that had happened, there was no reason for Keliak not to hate Jin.

From the moment Jin left Stormhold, killing Ziphl’s followers, to impersonating others in Tesing, mastering Chenmi’s magic that erased history, assassinating Andrei, destroying the Demonstone, the massacre of the Colon natives, wiping out the Dark Magic Council and inheriting the legacy of Riol Ziphl, seizing the compass, the Holy Kingdom incident, the West Sea battle, the tombs of Temar, the slaughter at Mangryeongdae, eliminating Barton, the Wantaramo Forest, the Gaipa Archipelago, the Sota Desert—and even up to this very moment.

Every single thing Jin had done since his return was a direct obstacle to Keliak and Ziphl’s path.

Killing Kidard Hall to monopolize his magic was an indirect blow to Ziphl, and though Keliak didn’t yet know, Valeria Hister—the one Ziphl so desperately desired—was connected only to Jin.

Even Veradin, influenced by Jin, was resisting mental manipulation, and Jin’s declaration of the Demon Sword’s return outright denied the humiliating pact Runkandel had made with Ziphl.

There was not a single reason for Ziphl not to hate Jin.

“This very hatred must be why you, my father, could never reach the realm of Creation…”

Just as Jin saw through Keliak’s heart, Keliak likewise saw straight into Jin’s.

“Exceptional, in every sense. For so long, I thought Solderet’s betrayal of our pact and siding with Runkandel was because of Siron or Luna… but seeing you, Jin Runkandel, I now understand why Solderet chose you instead of those two.”

Keliak even felt a pang of resentment toward Siron.

All his life, he had remained second fiddle, overshadowed by him, and now even the next generation—his own children—could not surpass Siron’s legacy.

“Sometimes, when I spoke of you in the Tower of Stories… my kin believed I took you lightly. It’s somewhat hollow that you’ve read the hatred they failed to notice.”

“Why not surround yourself with more capable and profound people?”

The knights of the Balmur Alliance and the Sword Emperor’s Castle felt Jin’s words were reckless provocations.

After all, Keliak had just crippled Kalmine with a single strike and demonstrated the power to annihilate the entire Sword Emperor’s Castle within seconds.

They worried Jin might be pushing his luck too far.

But Jin knew better.

No matter what, Keliak would never strike the Sword Emperor’s Castle before first proposing negotiations.

“If he intended to crush the Sword Emperor’s Castle by force without compromise and seize the White Stone, he wouldn’t have started talks in the first place. Keliak Ziphl fears an all-out war with Runkandel.”

There were many reasons: Siron’s presence, Runkandel’s strength, Kinzelo’s power.

“Perhaps Keliak also realizes that if the White Stone is mishandled, a monster of chaos could awaken. No, I’m certain of it. He knows the White Stone’s value better than any of us. That’s why he wants it.”

Therefore, Keliak wanted to resolve the situation through negotiations with the Sword Emperor’s Castle—effectively Runkandel—avoiding armed conflict as much as possible.

In fact, just bringing up “negotiations” was a huge blow to Ziphl’s external prestige.

For the world’s foremost family to lose so many dragons, mages, and fleets, yet prioritize talks over battle, was unprecedented.

“Above all, the Flame Dragon Kadun is nowhere to be seen.”

Kadun—the most powerful flame dragon forged by the Fire God Shinu.

Jin had been aware since earlier that Kadun was absent.

Of course, Kadun could be disguised as a human aboard the fleet, but Jin judged that unlikely.

“It’s strange to hide the strongest flame dragon somewhere else after draping the entire fleet in intense fiery magic, spreading flames across the Sword Emperor’s Castle to intimidate and show off.”

Among the roughly fifty ships Keliak brought, Ziphl’s dragons were mixed in. Kadun would surely be at the center, displaying his might.

Yet Jin found it hard to guess why Keliak hadn’t brought Kadun.

“Is it because Kadun’s absence would weaken Ziphl’s air defense? No, even if negotiations are prioritized, they wouldn’t rule out all-out war, so that can’t be it. Then…”

Suddenly, another friend’s name came to Jin’s mind.

“Could Veradin have taken measures to keep Kadun off the fleet…?”

It was accurate.

Veradin was currently forced into a state of rampage, needing Kadun’s protection.

So Keliak had no choice. If Veradin fell, all of Ziphl’s plans could collapse.

Jin didn’t know this, but he had a strong feeling Kadun’s absence was the result of his friend’s sacrifice.

“You’re aware Kadun isn’t here.”

Jin almost showed surprise at those words.

“I heard that you need the power of that flame dragon to wield perfect fire magic.”

“The one who perfects a fire mage isn’t a guardian dragon, but the phoenix.”

Fwoosh!

Suddenly, behind Keliak, a phoenix appeared.

Belrot—the phoenix renowned as one of the strongest alongside Tes, Manier, and Sangkish.

It was the summoning of a master of magic.

Belrot’s massive, blazing form cast a dark shadow over the Sword Emperor’s Castle.

It was fire incarnate.

The Balmur Alliance and the Sword Emperor’s Castle, facing the fleet filling the night sky and Belrot’s flames, felt as if their true opponent wasn’t Ziphl, but the Fire God Shinu himself.

The fire was even greater than the legacy of Riol Ziphl that Jin had shown through the mirror and the wills of the two gods, painting their entire vision in crimson.

Yet Jin was undaunted.

“Somehow, I feel you understand what my phoenix truly is.”

“The sole god of flame and master of all phoenixes. But you still cannot fully wield that power.”

That was Keliak’s public acknowledgment of Jin.

The word “still” implied a future possibility.

“If you truly believe that, then blow my head off right now. I’m curious if your god Shinu’s power can pierce Tes’s absolute domain.”

“You have a thick skin, as I’ve heard. To show such obvious bluffing against me—commendable courage.”

Keliak knew Jin couldn’t summon Tes at the moment.

Jin shivered at how clearly Keliak understood this.

Neither spoke it aloud, but it was an instinctive understanding.

“Then, Keliak, you’re more cautious than I thought. You’re holding back from using spatial explosion because of the slim chance I might summon Tes.”

“I’m not refraining from killing you just for your sake.”

Keliak smiled again.

Now, that smile held not only hatred but also composure.

“Jin Runkandel.”

“Speak.”

“You showed mercy by not chasing fleeing enemies. I will show the same mercy. Hyran must immediately abandon the White Stone and leave the Sword Emperor’s Castle. If so, no one will die.”

Flare!

A small flame flickered at Keliak’s fingertip.

He wrote in the air with the flame—a “Seal of Fire” that only Shinu’s contractors could wield.

Ziphl also vowed to use every effort to rescue Dante Hyran, who had been consumed by the White Stone, and if he survived, to return him to Hyran.

Everyone present at the Sword Emperor’s Castle stared intently at the glowing red script.

“Furthermore, if you accept my terms, Ziphl will devote all its strength to destroying the imperial royal family that betrayed Hyran.”

Before anyone could wonder how Keliak knew Dante’s condition, the knights of Hyran were shaken for the first time since the conflict began.

The promise to destroy the empire was less important.

What mattered more than their pride—worth dying for—was the life of their lord.

Using the Seal of Fire meant Keliak was swearing on his god Shinu.

His offer was undoubtedly sincere.

“It’s a trap. Keliak’s oath is surely truthful, but…”

The moment Hyran accepts the terms, he will be destroyed not by Ziphl, but by Runkandel. Keliak omitted the part about protecting Hyran from Runkandel.

Jin couldn’t bring himself to say the rest.

For Runcandel, attacking Hailan after she accepted Ziphl’s terms was only natural.

If he didn’t, Runcandel would be forced to watch helplessly as Ziphl walked away with the White Stone, gaining everything while he got nothing.

Rosa wouldn’t stand for that. She was the kind of person who wouldn’t back down, even if it meant the Sword Emperor’s fortress and Hailan’s lands were reduced to ashes.

And for Jin to stand in Rosa’s way—

That would be nothing less than a betrayal of Runcandel.

“A clever move… Keliak Ziphl,” Jin muttered through gritted teeth.

Objectively, neither Jin nor Runcandel could offer Hailan better terms.

Runcandel had no way to save Dante, and among all of Runcandel, only Jin truly valued Dante’s life.

All Runcandel had to do was prevent the White Stone from falling into Ziphl’s hands, regardless of whether Hailan vanished from history or not.

Jin clenched his jaw, while Keliak wore an expression of calm certainty, confident in his victory.

Keliak’s gaze shifted to Luyan.

“Now, let’s give Hailan a chance to negotiate with me. What do you say, Luyan? There’s no better offer for the Sword Emperor’s fortress than this.”

Luyan looked up at Keliak silently for a long moment.

“Hailan… and the knights gathered for her…”

Just as Luyan was about to continue—

“I refuse, Keliak Ziphl.”

A voice, known to all on this land, a voice that everyone had longed to fight alongside with all their hearts, rang out quietly yet powerfully, echoing deep into the sky.

Everyone turned toward the source of the voice, who had just climbed the fortress wall.

“Who dares claim they can save Hailan and my grandchildren in my place? That right belongs to me alone.”

There, standing tall, was the Sword Emperor—

Ron Hailan.