Chapter 739 The Last Of Murkel
Chapter 739 The Last Of Murkel
Murkel remained the Clan Head of the Erupting Fist Clan and now had his son, Ricktor, to look after. He found joy in his family and clan life. From time to time, he would even teach Ricktor himself. Murkel had a talent for teaching, which was why he was originally an instructor for the future stars of the Erupting Fist Clan. He would praise Ricktor when he did well, not just because he was his son, but because Ricktor was extremely talented.
However, watching his son, despite his skill, Murkel couldn’t shake a thought from the back of his mind:
‘Is my son like me? Is Ricktor like me? I’m no longer completely human. I can tell that from my emotions, how fast my body heals, and how strong it is. I haven’t been able to utilize the hybrid beast power in me, but I know it’s there even if it’s not in my mind. There’s a chance that my son’s talent is not just because of me but because of what I am.’
This thought caused Murkel to view his son in a different light. It was hard to shake the feeling, as two sides within him seemed to conflict. He decided to distract himself with other matters, particularly concerning the Noctis Clan. His search included traveling to other clans and factions to gather information about the Noctis Clan’s last known whereabouts.
During his journeys, Murkel encountered more skirmishes and fights than he had anticipated. Some people clearly knew something, and Murkel had to apply pressure to get answers from them. Others attacked him simply because he was digging too deep.
The grand search for any living members of the Noctis Clan, the arts that existed, or what had happened to them spanned years. From time to time, Murkel would stop by the Erupting Fist Clan to check on his family. Yet, the connection and time spent with Ricktor became less frequent. Murkel wasn’t sure why.
He wasn’t sure if it was fear that he had changed his son or if he simply cared less. It felt that way, and the emotions in his head told his heart that he should be saddened, yet he was not.
During his search for the Noctis Clan, Murkel also made a name for himself. As he traveled, many Clan Heads and powerful members challenged him. He defeated them with ease. Since Murkel didn’t kill the Clan Heads he had beaten, only defeating them, many started to become loyal or at least supportive of the Erupting Fist Clan.
They felt this was the new wave the Dark Faction needed, and the Erupting Fist Clan grew stronger with more supplies and resources.
Murkel didn’t keep his knowledge a secret. He was able to pass down the Erupting Fist Clan’s techniques, and they became as good as those of any top clan.
With enough information gathered about the Noctis Clan, Murkel concluded that they had been wiped out. The four clans responsible were the ones Bofan himself had selected as the heads of the Dark Faction.
It seemed as if he had been betrayed, and if he wasn’t, then his descendants had certainly betrayed the Noctis Clan, eradicating every trace of them.
With this information in hand and after many years of travel, Murkel returned to the Erupting Fist Clan and took his seat as Clan Head. He rubbed his forehead with his hand.
“You have returned from your long journey, but it seems you are more troubled than before,” Arkon, head of the special forces within the Erupting Fist Clan, said. An elder who had served the last two Clan Heads.
“I have always offered to help, as you have done much for the clan and the lives of everyone within. Even if that wasn’t your intended goal. Whatever is troubling you, I’m sure we can help.”
Murkel wondered what help a powerful clan could offer now that the Noctis Clan was gone. There was no way to revive it, and it wasn’t as if Murkel could embark on a journey to assist Bofan, who was most likely dead.
His goal seemed to have come to an end, and he wasn’t even sure it had been a goal to begin with. Bofan was someone he had been chasing, someone from his era who left a great legacy. Murkel had hoped finding him would provide some answers.
“There is no need for you to hold back,” Arkon spoke again. “Whatever your desire, we will help.” Arkon placed his head onto the wooden floor.
“My desire?” Murkel repeated, looking at his fist.
He hardly had time to think before he spoke. “I wish to get rid of the Light Faction, the Demonic Faction, and the Dark Faction. Everything will be under my control, and they will pay for what they have done.”
Murkel was somewhat shocked by his own words, yet he knew the feelings inside him were true. He harbored hatred for the Dark Faction for what they had done, but why would he hate the other factions, other than to protect those he cared about?
It was then he realized that he hadn’t resisted the feeling or the desire of what he said.
Lifting his hand into view again, he closed his fist, and a red solid crystal formed at the top of his hand.
“When did it happen?” Murkel asked himself.
The voice of the Hybrid was lost, possibly forever, but in turn, Murkel had lost himself. The reason the Hybrid’s voice could no longer be heard was that his and the Hybrid’s voices were now the same.
The desires and feelings were shared, and as each day passed, humans began to look like mere insects to him, including his own son.
“Very well, sir. As I said, we will help you with whatever it is you desire!” Arkon stated.
This marked the beginning of how Murkel became the principal of the Dark Faction Academy and eventually the head of the Dark Faction, leading them to where they were today, fighting against Raze in the Martial Arts Tournament.
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