I Became a Dark Knight in the Game

41 – Marriage Fraud (4)

“What kind of madness is this?!”

Mazhar shouted, having grasped the situation. A trial by combat? What era was this?

In situations where right and wrong couldn’t be easily determined, a trial by combat was held under the belief that the gods would empower the righteous.

But calling it a ‘trial’ was a stretch; it was nothing more than a brute force contest with swords. The reason the Empire had gradually imposed stricter conditions on trial by combat, eventually rendering it obsolete, was precisely this.

“Under Imperial law, a trial by combat is only permissible in matters that draw the attention of the gods, such as those related to religion or the abyss!”

Mazhar brought up the most basic premise of trial by combat.

“Hmm. What is the official title of the judge presiding here?”

Inquisitor.

Considering that marriage was a sacred rite overseen by the gods, it could be interpreted as a ‘religious’ matter that met the requirements for a trial by combat.

Mazhar took a deep breath. Even if his first argument was blocked, he had a second one ready.

“Of course, marriage is undoubtedly a sacred union blessed by the six providences. But to prevent the abuse of resolving all disputes through duels, the Empire has imposed several conditions on trial by combat.”

The Empire, which had consistently narrowed the scope of trial by combat, had ultimately placed restrictions on who could request one.

The logic behind trial by combat was that the gods would choose the righteous. Therefore, anyone who wished to request a trial by combat, believing themselves to be righteous, needed evidence of their righteousness.

“Do you have any reason for the gods to take notice of you? Have you undergone clerical training to qualify as a priest, or has a miracle occurred here, bestowing you with divine power?”

The most easily satisfied requirement was the possession of divine power, which was proof of being under the gods’ watch. Even without divine power, if one met more difficult conditions, such as widespread recognition and esteem in society, they could request a duel. However, a mere wandering journalist like him lacked such renown.

The only matter for which one could request a duel without meeting the qualifications was the abyss. Every human had the right to defend themselves when suspected of being from the abyss.

Mazhar’s strong argument made Kriel nod.

“Priest, please.”

The priest of Dawkrieus, who had been standing silently behind, stepped forward.

“By the wings of the Raven Goddess and the divine power bestowed upon me, I guarantee that Sir Kriel is the Grand Warrior of our order.”

“Grand Warrior?”

Mazar rolled the unfamiliar word around in his mouth. He knew the meaning. But what effect could claiming to be the Grand Warrior of the order have in this sudden incident?

If he intended to intimidate with the title of Grand Warrior, he had chosen the wrong opponent—

“Wait. Where did you say you were the Grand Warrior of?”

“Eve Kaha. The Goddess of the Raven Wings who guides the dead.”

Kriel declared calmly. He was the Grand Warrior chosen by the goddess—more precisely, chosen by the saintess, but that was not a matter to be concerned with now.

“If I have not acted honorably, the deity will make me pay the price. Mazar Gabi, accept the duel.”

His intention was clear. Everyone present could feel the sincerity Kriel was silently conveying with his whole body.

Kriel didn’t care about the law. Let’s talk with swords.

*

“This is actually working.”

Armed muttered in a bewildered tone. When Kriel had pulled out the ancient law, saying an eye for an eye, a law for a law, Armed had doubted it would work.

The inquisitor had held his head in his hands, pondering for several minutes before saying, “…It is a legitimate reason for a duel,” and notifying Mazar Gabi to prepare for battle or find a Grand Warrior within the designated time.

Armed glanced at Kriel, who was talking with the priest of Dawkrieus.

‘He told me he only served in the western army chaplaincy?’

A Grand Warrior of the order. In most places, he would be treated as a distinguished guest. Armed sighed.

Without the backing of the Kett family, he was just an ordinary wizard. But Kriel had become the Grand Warrior of Eve Kaha. Suddenly, he felt insignificant.

He was curious about the conversation between the Grand Warrior and the priest, but Armed suppressed his curiosity.

It was a choice he would regret. It was a golden opportunity to learn that the priest Kriel had initially asked to perjure himself was the ‘saintess.’

*

“A Grand Warrior engaged, how surprising.”

The priest of Dawkrieus, who had cooperated in various ways from sending a letter to Morgina to today’s testimony, revealed an unexpected story.

I shrugged and replied.

“It was to protect a friend’s dream.”

“I wonder if the saintess knows.”

“Are you talking about Morgina? Actually, the letter I asked you to send a few days ago was related to this matter. If she had helped, I wouldn’t have needed to ask you for more.”

For some reason, the priest of Dawkrieus’s eyes widened. Then he returned to a puzzled expression.

“Hmm. So that’s how it is. The saintess is indeed very generous.”

I almost argued back when I heard that Morigina was generous. But as a young man full of Confucian spirit and a pursuer of chivalry, it was not right to speak recklessly to an old man who looked three times my age.

“Just a word of caution, since you are using the name of the Great Warrior…”

I nodded. From the beginning, I had no intention of borrowing the name of the Eve Kaha Order for this matter. It was just that the only way to nullify the legal procedures was through a duel.

Regardless of the era, the justification of ‘for love’ was not only acceptable but encouraged. What order would deny love? Perhaps only the Abyss.

After formally dissolving the engagement, if anyone asked, I could only answer that it was ‘for a friend’s dream.’ In the end, it was a chivalrous act of enduring dishonor for the sake of friendship. Surely, Eve Kaha would understand.

“Yes. To not disgrace the honor of the Order─” “No, I meant to crush the opponent.”

“…Pardon?”

“It is also related to the honor of the Order. Our Order is originally a group specialized in fighting, isn’t it? If our Great Warrior loses in a duel, it would be a disgrace.”

“Priest?”

“Whoever comes out, beat them to a pulp… Ah, but don’t kill them. Just beat them up as much as possible without killing them.”

The old priest asked with a kind smile. Under that subtle pressure, I could do nothing but nod.

*

Mazar rubbed his forehead. Although he had gained a few days’ respite, given the situation, it was almost hopeless.

The Eve Kaha Order was famous for its belligerence. To be appointed as a Great Warrior among them was impossible without exceptional skill.

“If it were the Duke’s knights, maybe…”

Would the knights even consider the request of the youngest son of the Gabi merchant guild leader?

Mazar felt hopeless. Should he give up and look for another way?

‘…No. If I try to contact another group, my brothers will surely find out and preempt me. The only group I can extend my influence to without my brothers’ interference is the Abyss Disaster Prevention Society.’

Moreover, he had already invested too much money in this society. Not only the sponsorship from the Gabi merchant guild but also Mazar Gabi’s personal funds to win Armed’s favor. To properly calculate the cost, he needed a noble title.

Of course, if the Gabi merchant guild leader himself were in Mazar’s position, he would have coldly sought another way, considering the already spent money as sunk cost. But Mazar had not yet reached his father’s level.

He searched everywhere to find a Great Warrior. Mercenaries of all sorts flocked to him, but many fell short of the minimum requirement of being able to defeat a knight in a one-on-one fight.

When he interviewed those who claimed to have defeated knights, he would ask:

“Then, was the knight you defeated fully equipped with armor and weapons?”

“Haha, sir. You don’t understand! Such people are like living tanks. Unless they are completely exhausted and lying down, an ordinary mercenary cannot compete with them.”

Mazar clicked his tongue.

He had one week left. If he could not select a Great Warrior within that time, he would have to go himself or admit defeat.

Time was running out. Just as Mazar was about to give up, he heard:

“There is an applicant?”

“Yes, sir. But their appearance…”

They didn’t look like they could fight well. Mazar’s servant conveyed with his eyes.

Heading towards the interview room, Marjory said, “Let’s just take a look.”

Inside, a woman dressed as a priest, with black hair tinged with red at the ends, was waiting.