Episode 840
Chapter 209: Temar’s Seventh Tomb – The Painting of Keitam (13)
When the spirit blade reaches its limit, it ceases to be mere swordsmanship—it becomes a power.
That power claims the life of anyone whose will is weaker than the wielder’s. No matter how overwhelming the target’s strength may be, nothing can stop their soul from being cut.
Among mortals, Temar was undoubtedly the one who had come closest to reaching the true end of the spirit blade.
Murakan knew this well, which is why he was constantly aware of the soul-cutting technique from start to finish.
He had witnessed firsthand how Elona and Ziphl—both clearly stronger than Temar—had nearly died when struck by the soul blade.
The moment the soul blade was unleashed, Elona and Ziphl had screamed in agony, their forms faltering.
And now, Murakan was no different.
“Graaah…!”
After a battle that had stretched on endlessly, Murakan—who had never once shown signs of fatigue or weakness—let out a pained scream for the first time.
With every twisted movement, black smoke-like wisps rose from his body, and Barisada’s blade drew them in.
As the smoke touched the blade, Murakan’s pain intensified. Instinctively, he realized Temar was cutting into his very soul.
It wasn’t physical pain.
It was the torment of memories he had desperately tried to bury—memories he never wanted to face again.
For the Murakan of the past, these were recent events; for the Murakan of the present, they were a thousand years old. Yet, in both times, these memories were like a forbidden wound.
Temar understood this perfectly. To defeat Murakan, he had no choice but to strike directly at his soul with the spirit blade.
Breaking his heart would come afterward.
“So you did have feelings after all.”
“Shut… up…!”
“What day are you facing? The day you wiped out Dranax and the Kamal clan? Or the day you mercilessly slaughtered Biolo, who came seeking revenge against you?”
Grit…!
As Temar spoke, he clenched his teeth without realizing it. Thinking of those Murakan had harmed ignited a fierce, uncontrollable rage within him.
But he had to suppress his emotions to avoid falling into demonic possession again. If that happened, he would become the same monster as Murakan.
Above all, this was the moment for revenge. If he let anger cloud his judgment and ruined everything, Temar knew he could never forgive himself. He couldn’t face the comrades, the knights, the people who had trusted and relied on him—those who had died at Murakan’s hands.
So, even though he had gained the upper hand in an instant, Temar wielded the spirit blade with caution. As long as he avoided demonic possession, he could slowly but surely cut off Murakan’s breath.
As Temar said, Murakan was confronting the days when he had murdered Dranax and Biolo.
Dranax had started using the name Runkandel instead of Kamal, but the Kamal clan still regarded Dranax as their leader.
Kitan Kamal, his brother and the new clan head, didn’t mind this. He was proud of his brother, and Dranax often visited the southern region of Huepester to spend time with his followers.
The Kamal clan had become one of Runkandel’s most important allies, and its members, like Dranax, were always eager to be at the forefront of battle.
Murakan enjoyed calling Dranax and the Kamal clan a bunch of troublemakers.
Before deciding to kill them all, Murakan had been very close to them.
“Murakan…! How could you do this? Our elder trusted you more than me. If he had to choose between you and the Kamal clan, he would have chosen you… you, of all people. Saying it was for the good of the world! And yet, how could you betray Brother Dranax like that?”
Black tears streamed down Murakan’s eyes.
But Temar’s blade continued to wound his soul. The black smoke was sliced and scattered like paper, and Murakan was buried deeper in agonizing memories that grew clearer even when he closed his eyes.
“Dranax… what have I done to you?”
“Dranax… yes, he must have been a thorn in your side. But why did you annihilate the Kamal clan? You didn’t even spare the children. What grudge could you possibly hold against that fool Dranax? What wrong did the children of Kamal ever commit?”
Biolo, who had come seeking revenge, choked back tears and struggled to speak.
“We were close. We insulted each other, fought often, but never truly hated one another. At least, Dranax and our comrades believed that. We thought that when the day came for us to fall fighting Ziphl, you would be the one left to avenge us and honor our spirits. If even you couldn’t take revenge, then at least you would survive to remember us…”
“Yes, Biolo. I remember everything. Now, rest in peace.”
“No, you forget us. We can never forget you, even in death. We don’t want to be remembered by you. As spirits, we will curse you again and again. The future Solderet longs for will be soaked in curses and blood, ending in darkness.”
“Biolo…! I had no choice. Truly, I had no choice!”
“I don’t know what excuse you have for ‘no choice,’ but whatever it is, it doesn’t justify what you did. Even Ziphl wasn’t that cruel.”
Dark red tears of blood welled in Temar’s eyes. He was barely holding onto the fragile line between demonic possession and reason.
“Is killing people now just a game to you, Murakan? People say that where your wings spread, only ashes remain. You don’t even spare children.”
Frey Runkandel.
Even amid internal strife, she had done everything she could to save people. When those suffering hopelessly begged, she bore their burdens with a heavy heart. On the battlefield, her gaze always fell on the weakest, those least likely to survive.
“No, maybe you were always like this. How suffocating it must have been to hide that ugly truth all this time. But now, looking at us… perhaps this is the reward you deserve. There’s no greater reward than hurting and trampling those who trusted you.”
Since birth, Frey had shown countless acts of mercy and love. But the only person she had ever loved rationally was Murakan.
She resisted him far more desperately than the fallen Dranax and Biolo.
She didn’t end it in a single battle but fled whenever cornered, hoping for another chance. Sometimes, she survived by grasping enlightenment just before death.
But it didn’t last long. Eventually, Frey met her end at Murakan’s Black Chain.
“What I’m experiencing now… it’s all… your manipulation of Ziphl… isn’t it? Tell me that…”
Murakan, now human again, slumped down and sobbed in a hoarse voice. Both the Murakan of a thousand years ago and the one now could do nothing but cry and suffer.
By now, Temar had nearly cut through the black smoke between them. Just a few steps more, and he could pierce Murakan’s heart.
Jin and the Ten Knights held their breath, feeling as if they were standing right beside them, not mere observers.
From all the evidence so far, Murakan was clearly a traitor who had killed the Ten Knights. He was responsible for slaughtering innocent people and plunging all of Huepester into fear.
And yet.
For some reason, Jin and the Ten Knights silently rooted for the Murakan of a thousand years ago. They hoped he wouldn’t fall like this, that he wouldn’t be stabbed by Temar and fall into the long sleep that awaited him.
They were certain there had to be a reason behind Murakan’s actions. Even if Temar’s words couldn’t justify them, they couldn’t imagine Murakan committing such acts without cause.
The spiritual energy forming the pocket dimension was entirely focused on the soul-cutting technique.
As the darkness lifted, the landscape revealed itself: a vast, desolate land that looked like a gray desert, utterly devoid of life.
“Murakan, your memories have been passed to me through the blade. Dranax, Biolo, Frey. Comrades I never even got to say goodbye to, my friends. No matter how many times I cut you down, the pain of losing them won’t fade. The suffering they endured won’t be erased.”
Thud…!
Barisada plunged into Murakan’s chest. His weakened heart, vulnerable from his transformation, was pierced. Even the strongest heart in his true form would have been no different.
Murakan showed no sign of pain, remaining motionless.
“Yes, that’s how it will be…”
“If I twist the blade, you’ll vanish. It’s frustrating that I can’t make you suffer more and have to end it like this. One last thing—why did you do it?”
Temar’s hand trembled as he gripped the sword. His eyes, stained with dried blood tears, were empty.
“What exactly is this ‘unavoidable circumstance’ you keep talking about? You say all this was done for a future a thousand years from now? How does this horrific betrayal, this massacre, have anything to do with that?”
“I don’t know anything about some future a thousand years from now… And I have no idea about the truth of the world you say you learned through the witch.”
“Then why, exactly?”
“Why…?”
Murakan slowly lifted his head and looked up at Temar.
“Temar, do you even know where we are right now?”
“The land where you’re going to die.”
“Temar… this place, it looks like a land of death, nothing but ashes left behind… but it used to be called Idal. The land ruled by Padler, the one he loved more than his own life. His homeland, the Kingdom of Idal.”
“And Temar, you’re the one who turned Idal into this.”
Murakan said this quietly, gripping the blade of Barisada tightly with both hands.
“That’s why I can’t die now… even though I’m desperate to. Temar. I’m sorry, but before you commit even worse atrocities, before you break any further, before our enemies use you any more—I have to stop you. Because I am your guardian dragon.”