Chapter 842
Episode 210: Memories of the Past – Murakan (1)
There had already been countless agonizing choices.
Among them, the most dreadful decision remained, and Murakan had finally resolved it. Today, he would stop Temar—and in doing so, he himself would be forgotten by this world, along with everything he had ever loved.
From two pairs of wings, a surge of spiritual energy erupted, forming a colossal storm. The True Dark Advent—the ultimate secret art of Murakan at his prime—blanketed everything within his and Temar’s sight in impenetrable darkness.
Temar barely restrained the fury boiling inside him.
He thought that if he succumbed to demonic corruption, he would never be able to defeat Murakan. Yet, he was completely unaware that he had already become a monster himself.
Temar’s sword was no longer as sharp as it had been in its prime, and his will was stained by the distortions of history and their side effects.
“No, the one who will be erased from history is you. As always, I will protect my family and people. I will set right what’s been twisted and annihilate traitors like you and all our enemies. I am the head of the Runcandel family.”
Temar’s eyes blazed fiercely.
Runcandel’s Demon Sword Secret Art:
Sun Splitter
Aura, magic, and spiritual energy spiraled around Barisada in a helix. The spiral soaked into the blade, turning black before bursting into a dazzling, pure white flame.
This was the pinnacle of swordsmanship that Temar Runcandel had finally reached.
As the blade moved, the darkness cast by the True Dark Advent began to dissipate. Like a muddy stream clearing into crystal waters, light replaced the shadows.
Had Temar been at full strength, Murakan would never have dared to meet the Sun Splitter head-on. It was a sword strike so lethal that even prime Murakan would be cut down in a single blow if he couldn’t dodge.
But the Sun Splitter Temar unleashed now was only half its power.
In fact, the Soul Severing technique he had been using all along was far more threatening. Murakan refilled the erased area of the True Dark Advent with spiritual energy and surged toward Temar.
The radiant sword and the massive black blade clashed violently.
Temar was certain his sword would cleave through both the spiritual energy and Murakan in one strike. He was only puzzled that Murakan didn’t even try to dodge.
Murakan should have known better than anyone what Solderet had said about this sword. Solderet had warned that if the Sun Splitter touched its target, it could even kill its wielder.
Yet, at the moment of impact, Temar had to watch helplessly as the Sun Splitter scattered into nothingness against Murakan’s spiritual energy.
The aura, magic, and spiritual energy concentrated in the blade unraveled as if the threads had been cut.
Meanwhile, the massive black blade pouring from Murakan’s wings remained unscathed. If anything, it had grown sharper and fiercer, bearing down on Temar with renewed ferocity.
Temar twisted his body to evade, but Murakan’s blade was faster. It sliced through Temar’s left arm.
Thud.
Under the darkness of the True Dark Advent, Temar’s left arm fell away. It was swallowed by the shadows and vanished. Temar hastily summoned magic to freeze the wound.
He couldn’t believe the outcome.
He couldn’t accept that the sword Solderet himself could cut had been broken by Murakan. He didn’t know what had been lacking or what mistake he had made.
In that moment of inner turmoil, Murakan seized the opening and could have ended Temar’s life.
Having lived for over two thousand years, Murakan had countless memories of harming others.
He had memories of killing, memories of maiming.
But all those victims had been enemies or those who had first turned against him. Murakan had never once hurt anyone he loved.
That was what made him hesitate now. The terrible, unfamiliar sensation of having cut down a friend left him breathless and his mind clouded.
Dranax, Violo, Frey.
In truth, the guilt that had been building since the moment he decided to kill them—and when he actually did—was now threatening to explode inside him.
“Te-Temar.”
He couldn’t bear that he had failed to protect them, and worse, that he had personally taken their lives.
Unconsciously, Murakan descended, trying to find Temar’s left arm. The darkness of the True Dark Advent, which he had always been proud of, now felt alien and filthy.
Meanwhile, Temar steadied the backlash caused by the shattered Sun Splitter.
“Is this how you plan to humiliate us further, Murakan? What are you doing in the middle of a fight?”
“That’s not it.”
“Fight properly! Even if you lose all your limbs, you can still fight. Even if I die today defeated by you, I will be reborn and find you again.”
Screech!
Temar’s strike cut one of Murakan’s wings. Murakan couldn’t even think about regenerating with spiritual energy; his mind was still on Temar’s severed left arm.
Despite his desperate resolve…
He had no confidence in killing Temar. The voices of the fallen Ten Knights echoed relentlessly in his mind—the vengeful cries asking if he would mercilessly slaughter even the family head with his own hands.
Barisada slashed past Murakan’s heart, then pierced his abdomen and neck. Murakan felt no pain.
He thought it might be better to die here and now. He wanted this nightmare to end. If death could bring closure, he would give up life a thousand, ten thousand times over.
Just as he was about to completely collapse—
“No… Temar!”
Murakan found himself facing Temar’s transformation into a violet monster. The corruption of history manipulation was progressing.
Demonic corruption was spreading too. Unlike the previous Ten Knights, Temar’s facial features hadn’t completely vanished.
His grotesquely stretched mouth was filled with jagged, irregular teeth, and his eyes were hollow black voids.
His wildly swinging sword no longer held even a trace of the rank of a Divine Star. Now, every time Temar closed the distance, he bit into Murakan’s entire body like a beast.
The situation had deteriorated so far that Murakan’s mind broke, and he could no longer fight properly. He only pushed Temar away reflexively, desperately trying to deny the monstrous figure before him.
His heart, wounded by the Soul Severing, twisted painfully. Amid the haze, only the chilling pain radiating from his heart reminded him of reality.
He was witnessing the ghostly form of his contracted friend.
They clawed and bit each other savagely. It was less a fight and more a desperate struggle—Murakan merely flailed while Temar attacked with ruthless cruelty.
Murakan thought to himself.
This wasn’t the first time he had resolved to kill Temar. When Temar had gone mad with demonic corruption, killing allies and hiding in the Tower of the Black Sea.
Had he gone all the way then, Murakan believed he would have broken down just as he was now. Orgal had helped him then, but even without that, he thought he would have stopped eventually.
The same went for Sara and Padler, who had been with him.
But he had to be different.
As a guardian dragon, a protector of his contracted partner.
Protection wasn’t just about preserving life. When the person he protected was no longer themselves, beyond all hope of return, letting them go was also a form of protection.
Weakened by ghostly corruption and demonic possession, Temar couldn’t even withstand Murakan’s feeble struggles. Even Murakan’s clumsy swipes with his forelimbs tore at Temar’s body, eliciting agonized howls.
Temar’s sharp fangs broke as they sank into Murakan’s scales, and the recoil bent the right arm holding Barisada out of shape.
Temar was breaking apart.
Murakan finally opened his eyes wide and stared straight at him. Despite his twisted body, he fixed his gaze on Temar, who kept charging relentlessly.
“Is it really that unbearable? That hateful? I feel the same, Temar. I can’t forgive myself. The bitter memories of our fierce battles make my head want to explode.”
Now was the time to protect Temar.
The spiritual energy that had formed the True Dark Advent suddenly condensed back into Murakan, revealing the ruined gray landscape of Idal.
Murakan transformed into his human form and landed on the ground. Temar limped toward him.
Before protecting him, Murakan wanted to confirm one last thing. Just once more, he wanted to grasp at hope.
Just as he and his comrades had cherished Temar more than life itself.
Even after being consumed by history manipulation and demonic corruption, perhaps somewhere inside that monstrous form, some part of Temar still cared for his friends and comrades.
Murakan no longer hesitated.
He stood still like a tree, waiting for Temar to reach him with faltering steps. Ready to have his heart pierced—if only Temar would give it to him.
He wished, even for a single moment, that Temar would return to the person he and his comrades once knew. Even just for a few seconds, he wanted to see that face again.
Everything couldn’t just be forgotten and erased like this. No matter how cruel the history manipulation, all those days could not simply vanish.
Step, step.
Thud…
In the end, Temar stabbed Murakan’s heart without resistance. Murakan ignored the Barisada plunged into his chest and met Temar’s gaze.
“Is that enough? Even after stabbing me in the heart, you still can’t pull yourself together for even a moment?”
If Temar showed no sign of suffering—
Then Murakan could end his breath and fade away himself, and it would all be over. Even with a shattered heart, killing a monster like Temar was no challenge.
For a long moment, there was no answer.
But finally, Murakan saw the violet glow that had enveloped Temar’s body fade, and the grotesque distortion of his face slowly return to its former self.
Temar’s trembling lips barely moved as he gave Murakan a faint reply.
“Murakan… you should have just killed me then… prepared for the future. We should have saved our comrades, saved even one more person. What meaning does my life have now, to do something like this…?”
“Ah… so this bastard finally says something worthy of you. Well, it’s good to hear it. Damn, it even brings tears to my eyes.”
“I’ll become a monster again soon, Murakan. Even Solderet can’t stop it. So don’t ever make such reckless choices again. Protect the family… the future. We can’t all just be forgotten like this. None of it can disappear. Someone has to remain. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Murakan.”
Then Murakan collapsed. The sound of his broken heart rattling inside his chest echoed faintly.
As his consciousness slipped away, Murakan watched Temar’s retreating figure.
Before losing his mind, before going mad and killing the wounded Murakan, Temar was desperately struggling to get as far away as possible—out of sight.
That was the last between Murakan and Temar.