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Translator/Editor: Order

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◈ I Became the Dark Knight in the Game World ◈

Chapter 36: The Wizard's Melancholy (1)

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“Thinking about it now, I regret it a little. I said I would only take one coin for anything, but I never specified whether it was a copper coin or a gold coin. I should have asked for gold, yet I unnecessarily accepted copper.”

'What is he really like?'

Orisin's confusion deepened at that simple, honest display of desire. From what Morgina, Armede, and others around him said, Kriel truly was a knight without equal.

Yet listening to Kriel speak for himself, he seemed no more than an ordinary man muddling through each day.

Perhaps he played the part of a noble knight simply because it looked cool. Or perhaps he had originally planned to flee while looking impressive, only to encounter the Wild Hunt through sheer bad luck.

After some thought, Orisin concluded that neither possibility mattered.

Did an exemplary knight really need to be a special person? It was not as though only special people could serve as examples to others. Sometimes, simply living one's own life faithfully could move the hearts of others.

* * *

Kriel dreamed.

Perhaps it was because of the conversation with Orisin before bed. He watched himself fight the Wraith King from a third-person perspective.

The three factors with the greatest impact on a one-on-one battle were power, speed, and endurance.

Standing before the Wraith King, Kriel had already known that neither his power nor his speed matched the Wraith King's.

What he relied on was endurance, a trait he possessed as a Dark Knight, a commander of the Abyss's legions.

By nature, Dark Knights held an advantage not only over the Abyss, but over most evil things. More importantly, the Wild Hunt led by the Wraith King was naturally made up of wraiths.

They might have been far removed from flesh and blood, making it impossible to replenish Blood Energy, but were wraiths not usually beings like masses of Resentment?

To a Dark Knight who drew power from Resentment, their very existence was little different from potions. Every wound the Wraith King suffered, every bit of pain, would strengthen Kriel's body and hone his blade further.

There was no need to think about the aftermath of drawing in as much Resentment as possible. Why else did people say to win first and pay it back afterward?

So he charged in, and he could not win.

“That was reckless. Damn it.”

Having drawn on every last bit of Resentment, he was left like a gambler who had failed to repay a debt and lost everything. That was also why he had not remained in the County of Kett for long, disappearing as though he were fleeing.

The hallucinations and phantom pain were so vivid that he might mistake anyone approaching him for a monster and attack.

When he had first awakened, the guest room in Kett Castle had looked so gloomy and ruined that it resembled a torture chamber. Armede, who had apparently remained by his side for half a day, had looked like a torturer approaching with a branding iron and a circular saw blade for slicing flesh.

Until the side effects eased, he would have to endure in some secluded mountain valley where no one was around. That was why he had vanished the moment he woke, without even properly sorting out his affairs.

Before long, the battle between the Wraith King and the Kriel of the past came to an end. The past Kriel, barely remaining upright while leaning on a greatsword, looked toward the Kriel of the present.

The unspoken question was whether he would fight again if he returned to that moment.

Kriel let out a brief laugh.

“You bastard. Stop whining.”

A knight who ran away just was not cool.

* * *

Kriel washed himself cursorily.

“Master! Open the door! Master!”

“I have decided never to believe you again when you say you will wash me!”

While camping, Tuon would often offer to help Kriel wash his face and promise to prepare the water. Kriel had already been fooled twice.

“Argh! What is this water? Why is it so cold?!”

“Ah, you do not know? To attain the state of Immunity to Heat and Cold, where neither cold nor heat can touch you, one must have water colder than frost poured over oneself at one's most defenseless moment.”

The water had been colder than ice, supercooled by Tuon's own power. Lamenting, Kriel asked Tuon to bring warm water next time.

Naturally, the following day, she poured water over him that retained the warmth of a volcano, along with the advice that a true knight should be able to wield a sword without regard for heat or cold.

Kriel agreed with the sentiment, but not the method. After that, he rejected every offer of Tuon's help with washing while shouting, “Aah, no!”

'After being fooled twice, I should not let it happen a third time.'

After tidying himself up and belting on his sword, Kriel checked the time.

It was about time to meet Armede.

“Hmm...”

[What are you thinking about?]

“I am going to meet a young lady from a noble house. Normally, it makes no sense to go armed with swords. I cannot do much about you, but I am wondering what to do with the other two.”

Tuon looked at Kriel in shock. If he truly said he was leaving her behind, it would surely breed deep resentment later.

Kriel considered using the power of Phantom Sword to sink Tuon into his inner self. Yet every time he recalled the constellation that had appeared within him, he hesitated.

Before Tuon flowed into Kriel, there had been two colors of shining stars within him. The red of the Dark Knight granted by the system, and the yellow Kriel had forged for himself.

But Tuon's pale blue starlight was a color he had never seen before. The Head of the Order of Eve Kaha had assured him it was not the Abyss, yet Kriel still felt reluctant to accept something so utterly unknown into himself.

Kriel returned Tuon to the form of the ash-gray Cross Sword and fastened her at his side. The greatsword was intimidating from its sheer size, but Tuon at least had the form of a work of art.

* * *

'This is an inn?'

The inn where Armede was staying overturned Kriel's idea of what an inn should be. What he normally imagined was closer to a small roadside lodge. But the accommodations where a wealthy noble stayed while visiting another wealthy territory were lavish enough to be compared to a hotel.

The entrance itself began with an elegant garden courtyard reminiscent of a noble estate. It was likely the sort of place classified as a “high-class inn” in the game system, but the luxury he could feel in person was on an entirely different level from the simple image and text that had represented it then.

When he stepped inside, he saw a reception desk staffed by clerks.

'This really does remind me of a hotel.'

Kriel approached one of the clerks.

“I am Kriel, invited by Lady Armede Kett. Where should I go?”

The clerk hesitated briefly at Kriel's sharp appearance, though the reaction never showed on their face. It was the work of a trained professional.

After slowly reviewing a folder of documents, the clerk found Kriel's name on the reservation list. The client's description of his appearance must have been unusual, because something had been written in the remarks column.

'Remark: Ominous white hair.'

At first, the clerk had wondered what could possibly be ominous about a hair color, but seeing it in person made the meaning clear.

“Please proceed to the Topaz Room in the sixth-floor dining hall. Lady Kett has reserved a meal.”

“Oh.”

So that was why Armede had told him not to eat before coming.

[What else did you think it was for, if not a meal invitation?]

Orisin asked in disbelief. Was Kriel really this lacking in awareness?

“I thought it was a warning because I might see something that could make me throw up.”

Orisin was about to argue, but then remembered that they had come here to lift an Abyssal curse and fell silent. It was true that studying the Abyss often led to encounters with grotesquely twisted, cursed creatures.

Those things were not good for the stomach.

Past the dining hall and farther inside lay the private rooms. Kriel checked the topaz-decorated nameplate and opened the door.

Armede sat waiting for him at a white table. No other attendants were in sight.

“Did I arrive too quickly?”

“No, the timing was fine.”

At the Society, Armede had worn simple clothing that was easy to move in, reminiscent of her days as a mercenary. The clothes she wore now were not flashy, but they were a dress close to formal attire.

“Well, this is awkward. Is there a dress code here?”

“It is a place nobles come to. Still, you are a guest in my private room, so no one will complain about what you are wearing.”

Kriel gave a hollow laugh.

“Wait. Aren't you a noble?”

“Ah, about that. I actually gave up being a candidate for head of the family.”

“Why?”

* * *

'Because of you, why else?'

...She could not say that. Declaring it so openly would be far too indecent.

Armede shook her head, pretending to be unconcerned.

“It was not interesting. I guess it suits me better to run around and handle things myself, like a mercenary.”

It had happened after Kriel fought the Wraith King and drove him away. Of House Kett's three children, Armede alone had known Kriel.

If she wished, she could have used Kriel's struggle as a convenient justification to inherit the position of successor. She could have claimed that the great knight who fought the Wraith King had actually done so at Armede's request.

Kriel himself had left the County of Kett, and Armede was the last person he met. It would have been difficult for anyone to object.

But Armede had not done that. She did not want to use that knight's honor in such a way. Instead, she wanted to help with the lifelong wish he had hinted at, the purification of the Abyss.

She was also sick of the vassals and rival candidates who seemed uninterested in her collapsed father, speaking only of the position of successor. In exchange for withdrawing as House Kett's successor, Armede asked for an annual budget that she could use freely.

With the family head incapacitated, the Count's two wives, who acted as proxies with full authority, accepted Armede's proposal. There was no reason to oppose a powerful rival who could threaten their own children stepping down early.

In many ways, Armede was now the family's discarded child.

So much so that no one would oppose her even if she chose a groom herself and brought him in from outside.

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