WeTried Translations

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◈ I Became the Dark Knight in the Game World ◈

Chapter 15: In the Abyss, Swords Wield People (3)

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[What? A novel?]

The feeling of, ‘Is this bastard out of his mind?’ came through loud and clear. Kriel gave a bitter smile.

Of course, it was not a novel from Tirnanog. It was a story he had read on Earth, one starring a Dark Knight like himself and another proper paladin.

Kriel recalled that the character who used this technique always had a cleric nearby. It hurt too much to endure through sheer grit without being healed by Divine Power.

"It hurts more than I expected."

[No, you can do that just because you read a book? Want me to recommend a few novels with incredible ultimate moves?]

"I'm picky about my novels."

Kriel dismissed nonsense with more nonsense, then checked the state of his body. His Blood Energy was completely depleted, and even when he activated his body with Fighting Energy, his regeneration was sluggish.

Perhaps because it was a weapon created directly by the Demon King, it seemed to have an effect that interfered with regeneration. Kriel vowed to snap that damned sword in half.

Not now. Once Morgina got here, with Divine Power.

Footsteps sounded in the distance. Using the Horn Dagger as a support -[Ow, ow, you're heavy!]- Kriel got to his feet.

"Since it's quiet, I guess you've already dealt with everything? If you're done, come help me over he...re...?"

"You're late."

The moment Morgina saw Kriel's condition, she rushed over in horror. The plate armor that cathedral priests had painstakingly bestowed with an Anti-Abyss Blessing was in ruins, and a massive wound covered his left rib cage, deep enough to expose the organs beneath.

A wound that would not heal. That was what startled Morgina even more.

"You knight-obsessed idiot, again! Divine Power barely works on you!"

Morgina wrapped both hands in the glow of Divine Power and pressed herself against Kriel. If a Saintess-level cleric used a healing miracle directly, fresh flesh should have immediately grown wherever the light touched, healing the wound without leaving even a scar.

But Divine Power and the Abyss were natural enemies.

Normally, pouring Divine Power onto Servants of the Abyss did not heal them. It injured them. That was why clerics stood on the front lines against the Abyss.

Kriel was a Dark Knight and, at the same time, someone who had partially broken away from the Abyss. Unlike ordinary Servants of the Abyss, he was not injured merely by coming into contact with Divine Power.

Yet Kriel's foundation, or more precisely, the fundamental class setting of a Dark Knight, was deeply connected to the Abyss. Rather than being harmed by Divine Power, he simply received very little healing from it.

That was also why Morgina used indirect methods, such as increasing the strength of his armor rather than granting Kriel blessings that enhanced his body.

Objects bearing blessings from Divine Power were still useful to Kriel. A sword granted increased sharpness, for example, or armor bearing an Anti-Abyss Blessing. But effects that extended beyond the item itself to affect its user, such as increasing the wearer's physical strength, were of little use to him.

Divine Power, drawn out as though squeezed dry, poured over Kriel. He felt the same subtle pressure he had felt when wearing the Mark of the Great Warrior.

It felt like compression bandages wrapped around his entire body. Kriel forced his mouth open.

"There's something more urgent than treating me."

"What could be more urgent than dealing with you when your insides are showing!"

"The sword itself had a curse that interfered with healing. This body already has poor Divine Power efficiency, and now the curse is layered on top of that. Trying to heal me is truly a waste."

Kriel raised his right hand and pointed at the sword lying on the ground. The fallen blade had lost its swirling blue radiance and now looked nothing more than ash gray.

"That sword is the Seed's main body. The Demonkin using it was not very bright, got wielded by the sword, and died. Figure out how to package it up safely with Divine Power."

"What?"

"Stop wasting Divine Power on me and seal the sword."

After calling him a damned blockhead, Morgina approached the ash-gray sword. Records of Demon Weapons flashed through her mind.

Perhaps because the records were quite old, or because it had been modified for use as a Seed, small details such as its decorations differed. Still, it was easy to recall a weapon with the same defining features.

"The Taste-Testing Sword..."

Orisin made a great fuss, saying they had known it would be one of the Seven Demon Weapons. The rumors Kriel had looked into were merely common tales, not detailed reference works like the Sacred Kingdom's Grand Library that even mentioned their names. Morgina's words were unfamiliar to him.

"Taste-testing? Sounds like a name for something that enjoys sampling this and that."

[Hey. You sound just like me.]

Morgina privately agreed with Orisin. She shot the blockhead a glare and spoke.

"Not taste-testing, as in trying food. It eats even corpses. The Corpse-Eating Sword Gratuon. The Unwelcome Guest of the Battlefield."

"Unwelcome Guest?"

It was a rather common-sounding nickname for a famed demonic sword. Even its original name, Corpse-Eating Sword, carried a far more brutal meaning.

[Ah. I can explain that. On battlefields that sword passes through, neither victors nor losers remain.]

Like the Demonkin who had become a puppet wielded by the sword moments ago, any warrior who grasped Gratuon inevitably came under the demonic sword's control. They swung the sword until every shred of life force had been drained from them, then eventually collapsed unconscious.

[And that sword tempts people by default, you see? Whether someone picks up the sword after it falls, or beats the original wielder to death and takes it, it always gets a new slave.]

Its temptation was strong enough that even after an army from one faction had been wiped out and the battle decided, allies would slaughter one another to claim Gratuon.

Once every soldier on the battlefield had offered up their life force to Gratuon and withered away, Gratuon would control the last living corpse and leave in search of its next meal.

[That's why it's an Unwelcome Guest. It eats everything by itself, then leaves.]

"What was the Sacred Kingdom doing instead of sealing that thing?"

"We did seal it. We barely managed to seal it and were transporting it to Temlis when several Demonkin launched a deliberate attack."

With an expression that said she did not even want to touch it, Morgina released Divine Power. Red Divine Power materialized into chains and bound the ash-gray sword.

"Let's get out first. We've sealed the Core of the Abyss, so by now the entrance we came through should have returned to normal."

[But, us...]

"What? Say it quickly."

As Morgina waved her clenched fist threateningly at Orisin, who was flitting noisily around her, Orisin hurriedly finished speaking.

[Kriel forced his way into the deeper level by smashing through that poorly constructed section of floor through sheer stubbornness. Is there even a way to get back to the entrance? Wouldn't it be better to wait quietly?]

"Make Kriel do it."

Kriel gave a hollow laugh at Morgina's answer. She was right. No matter how maze-like the structure of the Abyssal Domain was, it was fundamentally a place made for the forces of the Abyss.

A Dark Knight was originally a class meant to command the Abyssal Legion. Just as he could sense weaknesses in the Abyssal Domain's upper layers, he could roughly grasp its structure as well.

"Right. This isn't a place where we should stay long. Let's get out quickly."

* * *

The Saints waited calmly.

That calm did not mean they had been corrupted by vices such as carelessness or laziness.

Their composure was entirely because of, or thanks to, Morgina.

Morgina had entered the monastery with her Champion. Though her official position was Saintess of Eve Kaha, she was better known by ominous nicknames like the Skull Reaper and Harbinger of Misfortune.

If clerics were judged solely by their combat ability against the Abyss, she was among the five strongest battle clerics. Since her companion had asked for thirty minutes, the Saints interpreted it this way.

‘Ah. It means she'll smash everything to pieces and come back within thirty minutes, so we should keep watch and make sure nothing escapes!’

If Morgina failed to emerge within that time, then the situation was truly dangerous. All they had to do was charge in together and give the Abyss a thorough beating.

They had watched the monastery in silence for over ten minutes when someone suddenly spoke.

"Does anyone know who that thug's Champion is?"

No one answered. After a brief pause, an elderly Martial monk scratched his beard and spoke.

"I heard there was a knight who worked well with Morgina when that child briefly served as a military cleric in the Western Army. I haven't heard that knight joined the Church of Eve Kaha, though..."

"What? Then she just handed the position of Champion to an outsider? It does sound like something she'd do."

"We cannot conclude that the knight is simply an outsider."

"Old man, what are you talking about?"

"Why, isn't it usually like that? If someone who has not joined the faith holds a position like Champion, they may be related by family to one of the Church's followers..."

The Saints' expressions twisted oddly. Though the elderly Martial monk was among the most experienced people in the present-day Sacred Kingdom, this time he seemed to have guessed wrong.

"Morgina was raised by the Church of Eve Kaha. She has no family in the secular world. So if she formed a new family relationship, it would usually mean marriage... with that personality?"

The Saints nodded together without anyone taking the lead. Her temperament was so rough that even calling her self-willed fell short.

After it became known that Morgina had served as a military cleric in the Western Army, the fact that no letters of protest had ever been sent to the Church of Eve Kaha could have been called a miracle bestowed by Eve Kaha. Morgina was the sort whose fists moved before her words.

The elderly Martial monk nodded with an uncomfortable expression, as if saying, ‘Let's just assume that for now.’

"Oh, she's coming out!"

Morgina and Eve Kaha's Champion came out through the same door they had entered.

Their appearance was not the same as when they had gone in. For some reason, the Champion had suffered a deep wound to his chest, and Morgina appeared to be forcibly supporting him.

"Don't just stand there watching, get over here!"

Morgina shouted at the top of her lungs, but her unsteady voice plainly carried concern and worry for her Champion. The Saints turned their eyes toward the elderly Martial monk.

He shrugged.

"How many couples do you think I've officiated for?"

But there was something the old man did not say aloud.

‘Though it seems the Champion does not have those feelings yet...’

It was the sign of a romantic wanderer who would charm the many people he encountered.

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