Orishin’s offhand remark about Kriel’s appearance had no effect on him whatsoever. At least, that’s what Kriel himself thought.
Do you think I never wanted to act the part of a knight in shining armor…?
The problem was clearly his class as a Dark Knight. Kriel had always been drawn to things that looked cool, and the combination of the words “dark” and “knight” had been the epitome of cool to him, making it his favorite class.
Of course, in the reality he now lived in, pursuing anything remotely resembling the “dark” aesthetic of a Dark Knight would immediately get him labeled as an Abyss creature. That was why Kriel had resolved to acquire elegant gear befitting a noble knight. But his dream of becoming a paragon of chivalry had always remained just that…. a dream.
His problems started with his weapon. The sword had been perfectly fine when he bought it, but the more he used it, the darker it became, as if it got charred by flames. By the time he had cut through his hundredth enemy, the blade had turned a deep black and was practically radiating ominous energy.
The same went for his armor. Kriel remembered the day he first purchased what could only be described as the typical knightly attire: a gleaming silver plate armor. Its polished surface reflected light beautifully, and its elegant engravings exuded refinement. He had spent a fortune acquiring it.
But silver, my foot. It hadn’t taken long for the armor to look like it had been dragged through a battlefield, covered in what resembled bloodstains.
It was as if the armor absorbed the blood spilled during fights. It gradually took on a darker hue, until it looked more like dried blood than shining metal.
He had tried bleaching both the armor and the sword several times.
It had been a futile effort. Resigned, Kriel consoled himself with the thought that “chivalry is proven through inner strength, not outer appearance.”
Through these repeated setbacks, Kriel eventually developed a calm demeanor that couldn’t be shaken by anyone commenting on his appearance.
[Honestly, even Morgina would flinch at this look.]
That one stung a bit though.
“You’re saying that because you haven’t seen Morgina fight properly. If you’d ever seen her wielding a hammer in each hand, crushing skulls with both, you’d think stabbing someone through the heart is practically civilized.”
Back in the early days of their campaign, Morgina had kept her temper well hidden and behaved just like any other priest. Her explosive violence was utterly unpredictable back then. And now that horse spirit was comparing her to him? Kriel forced himself to ignore the creature’s ridiculous remark and instead turned to Tuon.
“So? Are you getting a sense of it?”
[Faintly, yes. It’s underground, somewhere dark….]
[Underground dungeons in a mountain range? That narrows it down to… every other place. Be more specific, or better yet, just show the vision directly in his mind.]
Hearing Orishin’s jab, Tuon’s blade vibrated. A droplet of blood clinging to the tip of the sword began to defy gravity and moved upward toward the hilt.
Soon, the droplet absorbed the rest of the surrounding blood and grew to the size of a small bead.
[Swallow it.]
“Are you talking to me?”
[Master. Orishin is a ghost; he cannot physically consume anything.]
Tuon’s tone carried a faint sense of incredulity, as if asking, “Do you really not know that?” Of course, Kriel hadn’t asked out of ignorance, but he still opened his mouth with a faintly awkward expression.
The blood-red bead melted away the moment it touched his tongue. When it dissolved, the lingering magical essence of the wyvern’s blood began to materialize in Kriel’s vision. Thin, crimson threads extended outward, leading deep into the mountains.
***
The mage scratched his head in frustration. There was still no word from his idiotic comrades.
He had left coded messages in their hideout as a contingency, but deep down, he felt certain they wouldn’t return.
Did they run away?
Even after accepting the power of the Abyss, perhaps they had gotten cold feet when the time came to actually defy the Empire. Pathetic. Once someone set foot in the Abyss, there was no turning back.
Idiotic fools. If they only followed my plan, we could have secured key positions in the gateway city by now.
The process of hiding the wyverns by returning them to their natural habitat was nearly complete. The commands had been clearly imprinted, ensuring that whenever he returned, summoning the wyvern horde wouldn’t be difficult.
Now, under the cover of darkness, the mage planned to leave the gateway city and head toward another border region of the Empire. If he waited long enough, another chance to reclaim the city would come.
But just then, a searing pain coursed through his entire body.
“Gah…!”
The illusion spell that concealed the cave was forcibly shattered. The resulting backlash surged through his magic circuits, shaking him to his core.
The mage turned around with great difficulty.
There, a knight in black armor was approaching him silently.
***
[Wouldn’t it have been better to sneak in without breaking that illusion spell?]
Orishin whispered softly. I shook my head. Proper mages anticipate intruders who sneak in without breaking illusion spells. They don’t just conceal entrances; they hide traps everywhere.
There were countless cases of overconfident intruders smugly breaking through secret entrances undetected, only to end up skewered by hidden blades beneath their feet and meeting an untimely demise.
Rather than dividing attention to remain wary of potential traps, it was better to create an environment where, even if the mage noticed the ambush, the focus could be entirely on the fight.
[No, I could’ve sensed it roughly. Spirits are naturally sensitive to those kinds of artificial flows of magical power.]
“Ah.”
I humbly admitted my mistake. Quick acknowledgment of one’s errors was a knight’s virtue.
[No, Master made the right choice. A knight must always overwhelm the enemy head-on.]
[Didn’t you say the complete opposite when I was fighting the wyverns?]
[Those who belong to Abyss must obey their master no matter what they say. No matter what.]
[What?]
Tuon confidently proclaimed this bizarre logic in a booming voice. Her words echoed throughout the cave, reverberating grandly as if to fill every corner. The distortion in the echoes made it difficult to understand what she was saying from a distance, though.
At that moment, I realized that even if we had planned a sneak attack from the start, things would have gone wrong. Even if Orishin had kept quiet, Tuon would have ruined it by saying something.
This one… Even back at the Eve Kaha temple… Does she just dislike ambushes?
[The master desires a fair duel, and it is the fault of the Abyss creatures for not preparing for a proper confrontation. Foolish beings who fail to recognize their rightful ruler! I am the blade of judgment upon you!]
[Kriel… I’m scared of her…]
Perhaps, she was simply out of her mind.
***
[Those who belong to Abyss must obey their master no matter what they say]
A sinister voice resonated through the air. The mage instantly realized that the voice did not belong to a man. According to the reports he had received in a previous letter, Kriel was undoubtedly male.
Then what was this voice? A grand proclamation that all who belonged to the Abyss must obey their master.
The mage, while keeping a close eye on Kriel and preparing his spell, also worked to discern the source of the voice. If there was another enemy beyond the Dark Knight, it would be inevitable to revise both his battle strategy and escape plan.
The Dark Knight advanced silently. His peculiar approach made not even a footstep echo, while the feminine voice that filled the cave adorned his every step like the chorus of a choir.
Even amidst the reverberating sounds clashing with each other, the voice delivered a single, crystal-clear warning.
[Foolish ones who fail to recognize their rightful master—]
The mage’s keen observation skills picked up a subtle detail. Whenever the feminine voice spoke, the blue gem embedded in the center of the Dark Knight’s cross sword glimmered.
An ego sword?
The mage was taken aback. He was familiar with weapons that possessed consciousness, like ego swords. Records in the Holy Kingdom’s archives spoke of ancient relics imbued with the spirits of priests from long ago.
But the words of this sword were far too blasphemous to belong to a holy weapon. It was praising its wielder as if he were some spawn of the Abyss.
The ashen cross sword in the Dark Knight’s hand emanated an inexplicable pressure that weighed heavily on the mage. He forcibly clung to his slipping concentration.
“Don’t come any closer! You’re already within range of my spell!”
It was an empty bluff. The spell wasn’t finished yet. Allowing the Dark Knight to approach any further would leave him vulnerable to an attack before the spell could be completed. It was a desperate attempt to buy time.
Perhaps it worked, as the Dark Knight halted his steps. The mage continued preparing to release the spell while his mind still mulling over the ego sword’s unsettling words.
Just a little more time; only a few more seconds.
The plan was simple. He would obscure the knight’s vision with a fireball. If that alone killed him, all the better. If not, the wyvern horde would be summoned, and the mage would either launch an all-out assault with the wyverns or escape on one if the situation proved unfavorable.
It was ready!
Just as he was about to unleash the attack spell—
“Are you a new demon?”
The Dark Knight’s calm remark shattered the mage’s focus.
“A half-formed demon making such pitiful noise.”
“Wh-What are you talking about?!”
“Your rank, idiot. You’ve gained power from the demonic essence but failed to awaken spiritually. It means you’re a failure who hasn’t even reached the level of a true demon.”
From beyond the Dark Knight’s helmet, a pair of red eyes blazed like fire.
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