Chapter 838
Episode 209: The Seventh Tomb of Temar – The Painting of Keitam (11)
In his past life, and even after being reborn.
The sword Jin chose was the black Barisada. Although he hadn’t touched the Barisada even once since the selection ceremony, Jin felt as if the sword had always been by his side, fitting perfectly in his hand.
Even though it was a kind of replica made from a painting, the Barisada was no different from a real weapon.
And the sword acknowledged Jin. It recognized that he was worthy to be its master, that he could wield it to annihilate their enemies.
‘Suddenly, I remember the day I finished my trainee knight days.’
On the day Jin returned to his family to become a knight, Sir Shiron had demonstrated a variation of the secret art of reincarnation.
An extremely slow sword strike.
But one that could not be avoided.
[Barisada…!]
The fake’s eyes snapped open wide, focusing the Dark Arrival on Jin. The deathly power that had been aimed at the teenage knights and Murakan now converged entirely on him.
But no matter how intense the pain grew, it could not stop him.
It couldn’t shake him, nor even slow him down. Just as the fake wished for Jin’s death through the Dark Arrival, Jin wished to cut it down with his sword.
There was no need to measure whose fighting spirit was deeper and stronger. The death the fake had sealed quickly faded, while Jin’s sword grew ever clearer.
‘Why can’t I avoid it…!’
The fake couldn’t understand the sword steadily advancing step by step. Its body felt chained, unable to move as it wished.
“Didn’t you say it was over, fake? Then there’s no need to try to understand.”
Jin saw right through its feelings. Only those who had transcended their limits without anyone’s help could face reincarnation and still burn with fighting spirit.
That didn’t apply to the fake. A mere illusion like it could never stand against reincarnation.
Jin took slow, deliberate steps toward the fake.
Before reaching it, he swung his sword once, severing the spiritual energy that formed the Dark Arrival. Like a dark cave wall crumbling, the domain of the Dark Arrival shrank. The dazzlingly white Barisada was clearing the way.
The white sword energy spread endlessly in a circle, erasing the Dark Arrival. Though slow, the fake could not avoid it.
If only it had more distance, if only it could shed its delusion of being ‘invincible’ and face reality.
If it had struggled even once, it might have found a chance to hide again within the Dark Arrival. Even if it hadn’t earned its power through its own will, the strength it held had surely reached the realm of creation.
“You should have run before it came to this.”
Jin returned the fake’s own words and swung his sword a second time.
The blade struck down like a bell, slicing through the fake’s chest. It desperately protected its heart, but the spiritual armor, scales, bones, and flesh all were cut away without resistance.
The fake’s black, glossy heart was exposed, cracked and broken in places.
[No… this can’t be. I am Murakan. The Murakan from a thousand years ago. The being all creation revered! I can’t be defeated by someone like you who hasn’t even reached creation…]
“Now that your true colors show, your bluff is clear. If it had been the real one, it would have easily parried this. If it had truly reached creation’s realm.”
[I will kill you!]
The fake threw everything into one last desperate attack.
It began using even the spiritual energy sustaining its heart to strengthen the Dark Arrival. The darkness that had receded returned, and the Barisada seemed to lose its light for a moment.
From its roaring, outstretched twin wings poured endless black chains, and the swirling spiritual energy seemed ready to swallow Jin whole and tear him apart.
“Futile.”
But Jin shattered it with a third sword strike—a single, downward bell cut. The threatening black chains were absorbed by the Barisada’s blade and scattered into white particles. The darkness was cleaved into a mass even larger than when the secret art was first unleashed.
The fake still couldn’t keep its distance and had to face the Barisada advancing toward its heart.
[Stop… what good will killing me do you? No! You will face a filthy, terrible truth. Your guardian dragon will go mad before it and become like me! If you stop now, I will tell you who sent me here.]
“That almost sounds tempting, you bastard. But what can I do? I already promised that guy I’d kill you soon.”
[This painting, this world, has been corrupted and distorted! I am its core. If you kill me, the whole world might collapse…! If I die, you might be trapped here forever. In a corrupted world, anything can happen.]
The fake was just that—a fake.
No matter how much it resembled Murakan, an unbridgeable gulf existed between it and the real Murakan of that time. Creation was never something that could be forged at will. No god could freely create a being with the realm of creation.
“I’ll handle that. I’ll find and kill whoever made you. I’m sick of hearing your lies. Now disappear.”
Swoosh!
The fourth sword strike—a straight, slow thrust—pierced the fake’s heart. The black landscape of the Dark Arrival vanished all at once.
The fake flapped its wings and trembled all over.
[Ugh… argh… you’ll regret this… Jin Runkandel! You shouldn’t have come here…]
As the fake said.
The destruction wasn’t limited to the Dark Arrival. The ruined storm fortress’s scenery, the clearing storm, and the bright moonlit sky all trembled with unstable vibrations.
Without hesitation, Jin twisted his sword and completely destroyed the fake’s heart. Black fragments scattered in all directions, vanishing without a trace.
Now, there was no sign of the fake’s energy. Its disappearance was as hollow as its existence.
Jin sheathed his secret art. Though he spat out a mouthful of blood, he had no fatal wounds.
‘So it’s true that it was the core of this world. The entire space feels like it could collapse at any moment.’
He wasn’t worried. Whether by tearing through the space with the spirit sword to escape or by holding out and finding a way, there would surely be a solution. If he’d been worried about that, he wouldn’t have come in the first place.
At first, having Murakan with him made him feel somewhat secure despite the lack of a plan. But looking back, Murakan was still suffering.
In fact, his condition was worse than before the fake disappeared.
‘Could it be that with the fake’s corruption gone, the memories Murakan had been resisting are flooding back?’
Jin returned to Murakan and the teenage knights. Murakan’s black tears had pooled on the ground.
Dranax and Violo comforted the fallen Frey, holding onto her consciousness. Though the fake had vanished and the Dark Arrival’s power was gone, there was no way for Frey to survive. Even before the Dark Arrival struck, she had already suffered fatal injuries.
“Jin… Runkandel…”
Frey looked up at Jin.
“…Yes, ancestor. Bamel is an alias. That’s my real name. I dared to deceive you because I feared causing confusion.”
“I sensed something was off… from the start. But… I wanted to rely on you. Now I see, even if we had rejected it, you would have helped us.”
“Frey, don’t speak. Just focus on holding onto consciousness and breathing. We’ll bring healers soon…”
“Dranax… Violo. We are probably… similar to the fake Murakan. But while the fake was here to destroy something, we were here to protect it. Don’t you all feel it, friends…?”
Frey was beginning to glimpse the truth of the world they lived in. As the world began to collapse, forbidden knowledge seeped into their minds—things the original beings in the painting should never have known. Dranax and Violo said nothing, tightly closing their eyes.
The teenage knights understood why their comrades hadn’t returned from outside missions, why no reinforcements had come despite the fake’s rampage.
They realized this place was a recreation of a part of the world from a thousand years ago.
“But Jin Runkandel, unlike us, you and Murakan… and that foolish black dragon we thought had betrayed us… you are beings living in reality. After meeting you, I’m certain the land we protected still belongs to us. A thousand years… such a long time has passed…”
“Damn it, why does that black dragon keep acting like that? Hey! Frey, Violo, and I are all about to vanish soon. How about you pull yourself together and at least say hello? We died a thousand years ago, so we’ll never meet again, you bastard!”
“Yeah, Murakan. Even if it’s just the two of us, it’s not right for you to send Frey off like this. Come here and hear the confession Frey couldn’t make.”
“No… Violo… what nonsense are you spouting all of a sudden in this situation…”
Just as Frey snapped, Murakan transformed into his human form and trudged over to Jin and the teenage knights.
He collapsed, bowing his head to the ground, repeating the same words in a daze.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, everyone. I… I killed you. The knights of the family, the people—I was the one who did it all…”
Yes, Murakan.
It was all your doing.
At that moment, a low, dark voice echoed from somewhere nearby.
Jin, Murakan, and the ten knights all recognized it. Jin had heard it from the old recorded footage Solderet left behind, while the others had heard it firsthand during their time with him.
It was Temar Runkandel.
You slaughtered the comrades who trusted you so mercilessly… And now you intend to take me down as well? Is this the decision you and Solderet made? For the sake of the thousand-year contract?
As Temar’s words grew clearer, the scene around them began to shift.
Before the image was corrupted, the truth from a thousand years ago that Keitam had captured was unfolding. Murakan’s face turned ghostly pale as he looked around in panic.
He saw Temar glaring at his past self from a thousand years ago. Murakan couldn’t bear to meet those eyes filled with such bitter resentment.