Episode 7
Chapter 3. The Black Dragon Murakan (1)
‘I’ve heard plenty of stories about how the Black Dragon Murakan was defeated by the first head of the family and fell into a long slumber… but this place?’
Jin didn’t know much about Murakan. Even within the family, discussions about this Black Dragon were extremely rare.
That was because there was more to talk about regarding the dragons still active today than those long gone.
The glass coffin was spotless, not because someone cleaned it daily, but due to the faint magical aura enveloping it.
When Jin placed his palm on the glass, a sudden chill swept over him. Swallowing hard, he took a step back and started moving again.
‘Well, that was quite a sight.’
If it were a dragon still active, there might be something to gain. But staring at a sleeping Murakan offered nothing. Finding the grimoires was far more important now.
‘It’s bigger than I imagined.’
The basement seemed even larger than the central hall of the Storm Fortress. But it was so bare, without a single decoration, that finding the study filled with grimoires was easy.
Creak—
Sliding open a door revealed the study immediately. For a secret library of Runcandel, it was surprisingly sparse—just a single bookshelf and a few chairs. But that was more than enough.
There couldn’t possibly be that many grimoires belonging to a martial family in this world.
‘The grimoires!’
The single shelf, barely taller than five feet, held books that once countless noble families had risked their lives to protect.
Only the Runcandel riders could read these—the very essence of the martial house.
Suppressing his excitement, Jin carefully examined each grimoire on the shelf.
‘Meyer’s hand-to-hand combat, Tiphan’s, Yuron’s spear techniques, Shagal’s, Attila’s swordsmanship… quite a collection.’
There were even a few grimoires from the Kun’gen family, who had been wiped out two centuries ago when they attacked the Storm Fortress.
Jin’s hand trembled slightly as he picked up each one.
It was a tremble born of excitement.
Before being exiled from Runcandel, he had longed to become a rider and come here someday. Memories of those painful days flashed through his mind.
Of course, he wasn’t here as a rider now. He was nothing more than a thief sneaking in under the Runcandel name.
But Jin didn’t care.
Isn’t becoming stronger by any means necessary one of Runcandel’s virtues? Besides, he planned to return here as a true rider in a few years anyway.
‘Where should I start?’
A happy dilemma. Were these the same feelings his brothers had when they secretly looked at erotic paintings as children? Jin smiled broadly as he scanned the grimoires.
There wasn’t much time today.
He had only two hours of freedom, granted under the pretense of mourning a bird. After that, Gilly would come looking for him.
The table was piled high with delicacies, yet he had to pick and choose—such a bittersweet feeling.
‘But today isn’t the only day. I can keep coming back, saying I’m mourning or meditating.’
Suddenly, a book slid out from the shelf. The first grimoire Jin chose was a compendium of Kun’gen swordsmanship.
‘My third brother once said there was a lot to learn here… so this is where I’ll begin.’
There were three Kun’gen grimoires in total. Jin pulled out the other two and sat down.
Originally, Kun’gen had over ten grimoires, but most were lost when Runcandel destroyed their family two centuries ago.
It was a deliberate act by Runcandel.
Still, the three remaining volumes summarized the very pinnacle of Kun’gen swordsmanship.
Flip, flip.
Jin turned the pages quickly. Although called grimoires, the first volume mostly covered basics and the mindset of a knight—standard fare.
His page-turning slowed midway through. His eyes deepened as he stared at the text.
The book suddenly shifted from simple basics to content so difficult it was almost incomprehensible.
‘Oh… so this is what a grimoire really is. It’s tough.’
Though written in the continent’s common language, most of it was beyond Jin’s current swordsmanship level.
At twenty-eight, just before his sudden death in the Kingdom of Akin, Jin had reached a three-star rank in swordsmanship.
That was late compared to those considered “good,” and far below Runcandel’s average.
But it had taken only half a year after contracting with Solderet to reach three stars—a remarkable achievement.
Still, three-star swordsmanship theory wasn’t enough to understand Kun’gen’s grimoires.
Jin had anticipated this.
He pulled out a notebook and pencil from his pocket and began copying the grimoire by hand.
In two hours, he could probably transcribe about ten pages.
Back when he was a mage, he had copied so much that the fingerprints on his pencil-holding fingers had worn away.
Ten pages a day.
He still had three years before leaving the Storm Fortress. If he copied ten pages daily for three years, he could transcribe all the grimoires and then some.
‘And as I keep studying, I’ll start to understand more, and some books won’t even need copying.’
Scratch, scratch…
The quiet basement was filled only with the sound of pencil on paper.
After ten pages, exactly one hour had passed. Jin retraced his steps and left the basement.
He sealed the hole in the wall with earth magic and soil.
Two months passed. Jin had managed to copy the three Kun’gen grimoires and two of Meyer’s hand-to-hand combat books.
The dull, bleak days in the Storm Fortress were now filled with energy. He had never looked forward to waking up in the morning as much as he did now.
‘What excuse should I use to go to the basement today? Mourning? Meditation? No… I used those yesterday and the day before.’
Recently, the servants at the Storm Fortress had started spreading rumors that Jin was possessed by the spirit of the dead bird.
After two months of daily visits to the graveyard under the pretense of mourning or meditation, such gossip was inevitable.
Moreover, the Tona brothers, having heard the rumors, seemed even more afraid of Jin than before.
‘Hmm. Maybe I should come up with a reason that justifies going there every day.’
He thought hard but couldn’t come up with anything. How could he possibly explain visiting the graveyard’s cave daily?
Then Jin changed his mind.
‘I don’t need to justify it. If I say I’m going every day, who in this Storm Fortress would dare stop me?’
The knights now treated Jin not as a child but as “Jin Runcandel.” The servants weren’t even worth convincing. The Tona brothers were scared of him, so no worries there.
The real problem was Gilly.
A nanny was different from knights or servants. She had influence over the child she cared for.
“Nanny Gilly.”
“Yes, young master.”
“I’m thinking of going there again today.”
“Again today…?”
Worry immediately clouded Gilly’s eyes.
Sigh.
Gilly let out a deep breath and gently stroked Jin’s hair.
“Young master, I’m sorry, but that bird is already dead. It’s been two months. This nanny is so worried I can’t even sleep.”
“I’ve already forgotten about the bird. The real reason I go to the graveyard every day is simply because I like it there.”
“Y-you like it? Young master, you shouldn’t like the graveyard. It’s bad luck!”
“What do you mean bad luck?”
“A graveyard is the home of the dead. There’s nothing good about being close to it. You should only take in good energy.”
Typical Runcandel—nannies included—were superstitious to a fault. Jin shook his head silently.
“No, I’m going to keep liking the graveyard.”
“Young master!”
“Think about it carefully, nanny. I’m the youngest son of Runcandel.”
Jin’s voice grew serious, and Gilly’s eyes widened.
“Why bring that up all of a sudden…?”
“How many graves do you think I’ll make in my lifetime, born as a Runcandel? Lately, I’ve been trying to understand ‘death’ in my own way. That’s why I go there every day—to get used to it.”
“Oh.”
A breeze whispered through the gap between Gilly’s words.
Her thoughts froze for a moment as she stared at her young master.
A child of only seven, already facing the grim fate of being born a ‘predator’ of Runcandel.
Of course, this was all Gilly’s misconception.
Because this was his second life, Jin was simply manipulating the younger Gilly as he wished.
Honestly, who at seven would say such things? Even if born into the harsh Runcandel family.
Still, no one could doubt Jin’s words. They couldn’t even imagine he had returned to life.
‘After meeting the head of the family, there’s clearly been a profound change inside the young master. He must have been told something incredible.’
Gilly’s expression softened as she bowed her head.
“…In that case, I won’t stop you. This nanny has no doubt you will become a great knight who will bear the weight of Runcandel someday. Hearing your honest words makes me very proud.”
“Thank you, Gilly. Until I leave the Storm Fortress, I’ll visit the graveyard for an hour or two every day.”
“Yes, young master.”
“And when I do, I don’t want to be disturbed. You understand?”
“I’ll make sure the knights know. And young master…”
“Hmm?”
“As the young master’s nanny and also as someone older, I’d like to add a word… Thinking too much at such a young age isn’t always a good thing. Please, try to surround yourself with more joyful moments from time to time.”
“Got it. I’ll definitely do that, Gilly. Oh, and for a snack later, could you make it strawberry pie? Slathered with plenty of honey.”
A smile finally broke through Gilly’s previously stiff expression.
“I’ll bake it deliciously. Take care.”
Jin left the room with a bright smile.
‘Great! Now I can focus on copying without worrying.’
Over the past two months, every time I came down to the basement, there were plenty of moments filled with fear. If the guardian knight or Gilly happened to find me here, it could turn the whole family upside down.
‘Since Father’s been paying attention to me lately, I probably wouldn’t be in mortal danger if caught, but it would definitely cause a lot of trouble.’
A hum escaped me involuntarily. Even the earth resonance from digging into the wall felt unusually rhythmic and lively today.
Today, I planned to copy the final chapter of the Meyer family’s martial arts manual.
Scratch, scratch!
As I transcribed the techniques, savoring the joy of having guaranteed freedom for the next three years, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly the blessing of reincarnation.
‘Compared to the Kun’gen swordsmanship, the Meyer family’s martial arts don’t seem as difficult. But what on earth does it mean to unify the body with aura…? I guess I’ll figure it out eventually.’
An hour passed.
My thin, soft fingers ached from nonstop writing. Just as I was about to take a three-minute break—
Click…
A sound came from beyond the sliding door, and Jin startled, sitting up reflexively.
It was the glass case covering the Black Dragon Murakan being opened.