WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Order

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◈ I Became the Dark Knight in the Game World ◈

Chapter 17: What Is This? Take It. (2)

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The Priest-King clutched his forehead as he looked at the three Saints who had stormed into his office at dawn.

“You do know I’m still your king, right?”

“Now, Your Holiness. What do you mean, ‘still’? All of us Saints are deeply moved by the spirit of sacrifice shown by the Priest-King, Your Holiness, who volunteered to shoulder that grave duty. We offer you our true loyalty.”

The elderly Martial monk smoothly brushed aside the Priest-King’s irritation. The Priest-King was reminded once again that, despite the old man’s outstanding reputation and overwhelming achievements on the Abyss front, he was a sly fox who had avoided becoming king.

“There must be a reason you came to see me at this hour.”

“We did not dare disturb Your Holiness’s rest. We simply came to wait in your office, only to find that Your Holiness was already working, driven by concern for the people. Therefore, it would be improper to say that we called for you.”

“Ah, seriously!”

The young Priest-King could not contain his anger at hearing such nonsense from that old man of all people. It was not concern for the people that kept him working until dawn. That was simply the nature of being the Priest-King.

“So, did you safely retrieve the thing that serves as the seed’s main body?”

“Of course.”

The Saints pointed at the pure white coffin. The Priest-King remembered those slippery people using it like a battering ram to pound on his door instead of knocking.

Grumbling, the Priest-King rose from his seat. He gave them a perfectly reasonable lecture about treating a Sealing Coffin so carelessly, but the Saints only shrugged.

“Let’s check it one last time before burying it. Open the lid.”

“Ah, Your Holiness. Even we cannot open this without breaking it. That is why we brought it to you.”

“What?”

To properly undo a seal made by combining the Divine Power of many gods in multiple layers, they needed someone with the proper authority to coordinate the Pantheon.

Had several ordinary priests created a similar seal, the Saints could have calmly untangled the intertwined Divine Power, like unraveling a tangled skein of thread, with the power granted to each of them and their accumulated wisdom. But those who had contributed to this seal were Saints of equal standing...

“Your Holiness must untangle it neatly yourself. While you’re at it, please clean up the sealing formula too.”

“Damn it! You call yourselves my subjects?”

“All of us Saints deeply respect the highest representative of the Pantheon.”

The Priest-King sighed and raised his hand. He decided not to think about the sleep he would lose by leaving his paperwork unfinished.

Though no one had touched the coffin, its lid began to rattle. Metal clicked, followed by sounds like gears meshing together. The messily tangled Divine Power was carefully redistributed according to its purpose and function, transforming the seal’s structure into something more refined.

It would become harder for the Abyss to escape, while maintenance through the infusion of Divine Power would become smoother.

The Priest-King sighed.

‘The moment my term ends, I’m quitting all of this and getting assigned to my home diocese. Then I’m going home.’

After resetting the outer seal, the Priest-King moved to inspect the deeper one. With precise gestures like a conductor leading an orchestra, he moved his hands. The white coffin slowly opened on its own.

Inside, an ash-gray sword lay bound in chains.

It looked like a prisoner in restraints.

The Priest-King slowly approached and placed a finger on the blade.

“Wow, this thing is vicious. The malice on it is no joke.”

He immediately pulled his hand away. Shaking it as if he had touched hot water, the Priest-King once more invoked the authority of the Pantheon and adjusted the seal.

The cool metallic chill unique to a well-forged blade, along with the Abyssal energy that seemed ready to devour body and soul at any moment. None of it would ever leave the white coffin again.

“Now let’s bury it somewhere suitable and forget about it. For world peace, it’s best to bury those damned seven weapons as quickly as possible.”

* * *

Kriel opened his eyes.

It was not because he had sensed any ominous sign, such as killing intent or Abyssal energy.

His body felt strangely heavy. The sword had begged him not to put it back in its sheath the previous night, insisting it would stand watch, so Kriel had left it out.

It spoke flippantly, but it did its job. It did not seem likely that it would have let an intruder slip through. Was it Morgina?

He had told her several times not to do that─

The sight that greeted Kriel when he opened his eyes was quite different from what he expected.

First, there was someone there.

Someone who had collapsed on top of him.

But the hair was different. It was not Morgina’s fine, pitch-black hair, but gray, colorless hair that reminded him of ash. The pale skin gave the person an impression closer to a doll or statue than a human.

What was this?

Kriel was bewildered.

He did not remember this person.

[Damn, it’s morning! Everyone, wake up! I said I would take watch, but I didn’t think you’d really dump everything on me and sleep to your hearts’ content. Especially you, thug Saintess. You said you didn’t trust me, yet you can still...]

The timing could not have been worse.

Orisin, who had been flying over while bobbing its head merrily, froze the moment it saw Kriel and the unknown young woman sprawled over him.

“Why are you picking a fight first thing in the morning? I generously trusted you, so you should be moved and do your best─”

Things only got worse.

Morgina, who had sat up groggily, snapped at Orisin before turning her head toward Kriel.

“...?”

Morgina rubbed her eyes.

“What the fu─”

“Wait. Whatever you’re thinking, this is a misunderstanding.”

Kriel spoke hurriedly. Morgina went, “Huh,” and clicked her tongue.

“Horsehead, did you actually stand watch properly?”

[Ah, this is unfair. I sat alone beneath the moon for hours, looking miserable with no one to talk to!]

“You don’t have legs. How could you sit?”

Though Morgina bickered with Orisin, she did not lower her guard. She brought her right hand to her mouth and lightly scraped her palm with a fang. Blood flowed from the long cut and gathered into the shape of a long rod.

Divine Power flowed into the rod made of blood. As Morgina’s palm healed, the rod twisted.

By the time she gripped it with satisfaction, it was no longer a rod, but a mace.

‘It got past a Spirit’s gaze, avoided the barrier I set up, and entered the campsite?’

The most likely possibility was a Spirit similar to Orisin. As incarnations of nature itself, they could overcome the limits of space to some degree within their own territory.

For example, if there were a Spirit of a river, it could create an incarnation anywhere along that river, from its lower reaches to its source. If the woman rubbing herself against Kriel was something like the Spirit of this mountain, she might have bypassed the barrier’s boundary and entered directly.

Still, that was strange too.

The Abyss and nature were natural enemies. Yet she had approached Kriel?

‘Either something of the Abyss has gotten into it, like that horsehead, or it is not a Spirit.’

From Morgina’s expression, and above all from the way she tightly gripped the mace, Kriel realized that she was full of intent to swing it.

Sensing the dangerous air around her, Kriel’s thoughts sped up. Based on the experience he had gained from dealing with Morgina in the Western Army, he tried to guess what she was thinking.

‘She got through both Orisin’s watch and Morgina’s barrier, so she definitely isn’t an ordinary human.’

Most beings in this world labeled as “not ordinary” were of the Abyss. Even if they were not of the Abyss, they would still be just as suspicious.

And according to Morgina, the most sensible and efficient response to something suspicious was a preemptive strike.

Morgina had clearly decided that she should first give the woman’s brain an appropriate shock with her mace. Binding an unconscious opponent was much safer than binding one who was asleep.

Before falling into this world, Kriel the Tirnanog RPG player would have understood that way of thinking.

But as someone who had to act like a noble knight, Kriel found it hard to accept. Standing by while someone not under any particular suspicion was physically punished was not knightly.

‘But wasn’t it this exact mindset that got me dragged into a Trial by Combat when I defended Morgina?’

He briefly had doubts, but Kriel decided to act for the sake of Nobility.

He straightened himself and stood. He positioned himself in front of the gray-haired woman, as if shielding her from Morgina. Then, out of habit, Kriel put on his helmet. His breastplate had already been destroyed, so he looked ridiculous wearing a helmet over ordinary clothes. He shook the woman by the shoulder and said,

“...Excuse me. I don’t know who you are, but wake up quickly. You are in a very difficult situation right now.”

Slowly, the gray-haired woman opened her eyes.

They were blue.

The color was deep enough to bring sapphires to mind, but Kriel thought the gaze was too sharp to call it a jewel. It was the cold blue light of a frozen glacier.

He had seen blue of that exact color not long ago.

Not only had he seen it.

That blade had torn open his chest.

Footnotes:

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