I Became a Dark Knight in the Game

16 – What is this, take it away (2)

The Priest King held his forehead as he looked at the three saints who barged into his office at dawn.

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

“Oh, Your Holiness. Still, we, the saints, are truly loyal to the sacrificial spirit of the Priest King who volunteered for the heavy duty.”

The old martial artist smoothly deflected the Priest King’s irritation. The Priest King reminded himself that this old man was a fox who had avoided the throne despite his outstanding reputation and overwhelming achievements on the front lines of the abyss.

“There must be a reason you called me at this hour.”

“We didn’t dare disturb Your Holiness’s sleep. We were just preparing to wait in the office, and Your Holiness, driven by your love for the people, was already at work. So, saying we called you is not accurate.”

“Oh, really!”

The Priest-King boy could not contain his anger at the old man for uttering such nonsense. The essence of being a Priest-King was not about compassion, but about handling matters until dawn.

“So, have you safely retrieved the essence of the seed?”

“Of course.”

The saints pointed to the pure white coffin. The Priest-King remembered how those sly old men had used the coffin like a battering ram to knock on the door.

The Priest-King grumbled as he stood up. It was a reasonable admonition about treating the sealed chest so carelessly, but the saints merely shrugged.

“Let’s check it one last time before we bury it. Open the coffin lid.”

“Ah, Your Holiness. We can’t open it without breaking it. That’s why we brought it to you.”

“What?”

To properly undo this seal, which was created by combining the divine powers of many gods, the ability of someone with the rightful authority to coordinate the pantheon was needed.

If several ordinary priests had caused a similar phenomenon, the saints could have calmly unraveled the entangled divine power with the strength and wisdom each had accumulated. However, those who were involved in creating this seal were also elevated to the rank of saints…

“Your Holiness, you must unravel it neatly and cleanly. While you’re at it, please tidy up the sealing technique as well.”

“Damn it! And you call yourselves my subjects!”

“The saints deeply respect the highest representative of the pantheon.”

The Priest-King sighed and raised his hand. He decided to ignore the reduced sleep time caused by not handling the paperwork now.

Even though no one touched the coffin, the lid rattled. With a clanking sound, it was as if gears were meshing together. The divine power, which had been tangled messily, was finely redistributed according to its intention and role, and the structure of the seal became more sophisticated.

To make it harder for the abyss to escape, and to facilitate maintenance through the infusion of divine power.

The Priest-King sighed.

‘As soon as my term ends, I’ll quit everything and get assigned to my hometown parish and retire.’

Having reset the surface seal, the Priest-King moved to check the deep seal. With a gesture as precise as a conductor’s baton, the white coffin opened on its own.

Inside the coffin, a gray sword was bound in chains. It looked like a prisoner in shackles.

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

“Wow, this is intense. The malice is no joke.”

Then he immediately withdrew his hand. The Priest-King, who shook his hand as if scalded by hot water, borrowed the authority of the pantheon once again to adjust the seal.

The coolness of the metal unique to a well-forged sword, and the aura of the abyss that seemed ready to devour the spirit and flesh at any moment. All of that would now never leave the white coffin.

“Let’s bury it somewhere appropriate and forget about it. Burying these damned seven weapons as soon as possible is the right thing to do for world peace.”

*

Kriel opened his eyes. It wasn’t because he sensed any ominous signs like murderous intent or the aura of the abyss.

For some reason, his body felt strangely heavy. Last night, he had let the night watch go free, as it had begged not to be sheathed.

Though frivolous in speech, it was a creature that did its job, so it wouldn’t have left an intruder unattended. Or did it not know?

How many times had he told it not to…

When Kriel lifted his eyelids, the scene before him was quite different from what he had expected.

First, there was a person. A person collapsed on top of him as if overlapping.

However, the hair was different. Not Morigina’s jet-black, fine black hair, but gray, colorless hair reminiscent of ash. The pale skin somehow gave the impression of a doll or statue rather than a person.

What is this? Kriel was bewildered.

It was a person who did not exist in his memory.

[Damn, it’s morning! Everyone get up! I told you to take turns on watch, and you really dumped it all on me to get maximum sleep. Especially you, gangster saint, you said you didn’t trust me and yet…]

The timing was bad.

The duck god, who was flying in with a cheerful shake of his head, froze when he saw Kriel and the unknown girl lying on top of him.

“Picking a fight from the morning? I trusted you generously, so you should be moved and do your best─”

It was a mountain of troubles. Morigina, who had woken up groggily, turned her head towards Kriel after saying something to the duck god.

“…?”

Morigina rubbed her eyes.

“What the f─”

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

Kriel said hastily. Morigina clicked her tongue once with a ‘huh’.

“Horsehead. Did you stand watch properly?”

[Oh, I’m wronged. I was sitting alone under the moonlight for hours without anyone to talk to!]

“How can you sit without legs?”

Morigina, while bickering with the duck god, did not let her guard down. She brought her right hand to her mouth and scratched her palm with her fangs. The blood that flowed from the long, torn wound clumped together into a long rod-like shape.

Divine power flowed into the rod made of blood. As Morigina’s palm healed, the shape of the rod twisted.

By the time she grasped the rod satisfactorily, it had already transformed from a rod into a mace.

‘Piercing through the spirit’s gaze, entering the camp without being caught by the barrier I set up?’

The most likely possibility was a spirit similar to the duck god. Originally, as incarnations of nature, they could transcend spatial constraints to some extent within their domain.

For example, if there was a spirit of a river, it could create its avatar anywhere from the downstream to the upstream of the river. If the woman rubbing against Kriel was a spirit of this mountain, she might have bypassed the barrier and directly infiltrated the inside.

But that was also strange. The abyss and nature were originally opposites. Yet, approaching Kriel?

‘Either she has abyssal influence like that horsehead, or she is not a spirit.’

Kriel realized from Morigina’s expression, and most importantly, from her tightly clenched grip, that she was full of intent to swing the mace.

Sensing the ominous atmosphere, Kriel’s thoughts accelerated. Based on his experience with Morigina in the Western Army, he guessed her thoughts.

‘First of all, it’s certain that she’s not an ordinary human since she broke through both the duck god’s watch and Morigina’s barrier.’

And usually, most beings in this world labeled as ‘not ordinary’ were from the abyss. Even if not from the abyss, anything suspicious was no different.

And the most common and efficient way to deal with suspicion – according to Morgina – was to strike first.

Morgina, relying on such common sense, had clearly concluded that it was best to first deliver a proper blow to the brain with a mace. It is much safer to restrain an unconscious opponent than a sleeping one.

Before falling into this world, Criel, as a player of the Tirnanog RPG, would have agreed with this mindset.

However, as Criel, who had to act as a noble knight, it was hard to accept. It was not knightly to stand by and watch as someone without any particular suspicion was subjected to physical sanctions.

‘But didn’t I get involved in a trial by combat because I covered for Morgina with this mindset?’

Although he felt a moment of doubt, Criel decided to act for nobility.

He straightened his posture and stood up. He stood in front of the woman with ashen hair, in a position as if to shield her from Morgina. Then, as a habit, he put on his helmet – his breastplate was already shattered, so he looked ridiculous with a helmet on his plain clothes – and shook her by the shoulders, saying,

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

Slowly, the woman with ashen hair opened her eyes. They were blue.

A deep blue that reminded him of sapphires, but Criel felt that the gaze was too sharp to be called a jewel. The cold blue light of a frozen glacier.

He had seen that exact same shade of blue not long ago.

Not just seen it, but had his chest torn apart by that blade.