I Became a Dark Knight in the Game

59 – In Search of the Lost Heirloom (3)

[Your face looks so abyssal that even demons would want to be friends with you!]

Orisin laughed heartily. Criel, after a long time, got holy water on his hands and grabbed Orisin’s horn, shaking it.

[My horn!]

It was a reason he didn’t want to accept, but he had no choice but to understand. Just as Criel was feeling familiar frustration, Alberic’s loud voice echoed.

“No. Don’t you know first in, first out! How can a junior graduate before a senior!”

“Be quiet, young master!”

While Oife went to Alberic’s cell to scold him, Criel bowed his head to the other elf.

“I have a request.”

“Yes?”

The matter of ‘compensation’ that was just mentioned to Kriel with a bow. The Lir family had so blatantly disregarded the honor of the knight, so it was only right to put all their efforts into fulfilling it.

What kind of compensation would they demand?

An artifact of vision kept by the noble elf family? Considering that he was stuck with that troublemaker young master with just a wall between them, he might have heard about the heirloom. The subordinate who had to convey Kriel’s demands to the higher-ups felt a surge of tension.

“Just cook some rice for that friend in his room. He was very noisy last night, saying he wanted to eat rice.”

“Rice?”

The knight nodded silently. Compared to the gravity of having their honor insulted, it was an incredibly light request. The elf answered blankly.

“It’s not a crop we eat often in our family… If it wasn’t for Lady Pand’s request, we wouldn’t even─”

“Pand?”

It was a name he had never heard before. It was Kriel’s first time coming to the Lir family, and he had no significant connections in the noble society, so there was no way he could have heard the name of a high-ranking member of the noble elf family.

‘Should I have asked Armed?’

Come to think of it, there was indeed one person who was just a noble, not a connection. However, to Kriel, Armed was more of a ‘wizard’ than a ‘noble,’ so he hadn’t thought of it when he left the Gabi mansion.

As Kriel repeated the name, Oife, who had been bickering with Alberic, approached and whispered.

“Niam.”

“Oh. I’m sorry…”

The elf called Niam kept bowing his head. From his appearance, Kriel felt the familiar energy of a young person new to society. It seemed that he was the lowest-ranking elf among the members of the Lir family, as he was the first one sent to meet Kriel.

“Hey! What’s there to be sorry about! You just said the truth!”

Alberic shouted from inside the prison.

“It’s no big secret that only my mother and I like rice in this house. Anyway, thanks for taking care of it. Let’s have a drink when we get out!”

*

On the way to the VIP room, guided by Niam and Oife, Kriel was able to hear a brief explanation about Alberic and Pand.

Pand, the wife of Nawiden Lir, was not an elf of the Empire. She was a fundamentalist elf who lived serving the World Tree. She was a bloodline that most strongly inherited the lineage of ancient fairies.

[Hey. That’s interesting. Do elves like that even come out? Did she fall in love with her husband at first sight?]

Oisin’s whisper to Kriel. It was Tuon who rebuked him.

[You vulgar curved sword. Think about the situation. There must have been a reason why the World Tree elf had to come out.]

[What reason would the friends who take care of the World Tree have to come out…‥‥‥.]

The Demon King War. Oisin fell silent. It was well known that the World Tree was on the verge of burning at the beginning of the Demon King War.

Kriel recalled the setting of the Tirnanog RPG. The players, called ‘heroes,’ appeared only after the world had already been swept by the flames of war. If the Demon King War were divided into early, middle, and late stages, the world’s salvation device appeared only in the extreme late stage.

The time from the appearance of the hero to the defeat of the Demon King was short. However, it took decades from the start of the war to the appearance of the hero.

‘Tirnanog RPG wasn’t a game that kindly explained the setting.’

Still, one could roughly guess the setting from item descriptions or boss fight cutscenes. The Demon King War lasted at least 10 years, and perhaps it might have approached 100 years.

Perhaps, both could be true. The abyss that the abyss casts distorts even the space-time within it. Like a black hole. One second outside could be one minute inside. The stage of the Demon King War was the entire world of Tirnanog, and the abyss also bloomed countless times all over the world.

Since the depths of the abyss vary, the ratio of time distortion was naturally different.

While Criel was pondering about Tirnanog, Orisin was being scolded by Tuon.

[An indifferent remark that doesn’t care about the scars of war. Are you still a spirit!]

[Wait a minute. This is a misunderstanding. I’ve been holed up in the mountains for too long, so I don’t know the recent news!]

[An old spirit trying to use ignorance as an excuse. How cowardly! You’d bend your principles as easily as a bent sword!]

[No, wait!]

Orisin felt wronged. If you think about it, the pureblood abyssal being was that demon sword. Why was he being scolded by the demon sword as a ‘clueless guy’?

Even the two swords had a faint sense of tact. Fortunately, their argument was conducted through telepathy. Criel let their bickering flow past and opened his mouth.

“I heard that all the plants of Tirnanog grow around the World Tree. Alberic’s fondness for rice must be due to that influence.”

“Yes. The young master, no, the young lord was born during the war. While Elder Nawiden was at the front, the young lord stayed with Lady Pand.”

Criel’s intelligence, which he had long neglected while focusing on his noble knight duties, stirred. Judging by the atmosphere of the two elves, it was easy to guess that Lady Pand’s current state was not good.

He recalled the stories Alberic had told in prison. The fiery filial piety statement that ‘even if the elders don’t, my mother will look after me’ and the complaint that he wanted to eat warm white rice. It might not have been the simple nonsense of a spoiled brat, but a bitter longing for his mother.

‘Is Alberic’s delinquency to some extent a psychological escape from his mother’s absence?’

While analyzing the psychology of the delinquent young master locked in prison, they reached the end of the guide.

Criel was guided to the reception room of the Lir family for the third time. The first was the room waiting for Niamh. The second was the trap room leading to the prison. And now.

This room was distinctly more luxurious than the previous two. It was an elven luxury, not a human one. A door where nature and artifice coexisted, made of intertwined branches without any traces of processing, including axes.

Strangely, the branches were intertwined in a specific pattern. It must have been the result of the elves’ unique affinity with nature.

Niamh and Oife opened the doors on both sides. Beyond the large door, an elderly elf man with a grizzled appearance was waiting.

“Nice to meet you. Sir Criel. I am Nawiden Lir, representing the Lir family this time.”

An old man with years of experience. Nawiden, who had two overlapping positions where a sense of authority could sprout, showed no coercive attitude in his tone.

There were two reasons.

First, Nawiden had let go of his obsession with authority as he prepared for death. Among the elders who valued dignity and honor above all, Nawiden was the first to volunteer as the representative of the apology group.

Second, the Lir family had already insulted Criel’s honor. The suspicion of the abyss. For a knight fighting against the abyss, there was no greater insult. It would not have been strange if he had demanded the heads of Niamh, who had mistaken him, or others who had not properly verified the procedure.

As soon as he finished his brief introduction, Nawiden bowed deeply and apologized.

“Elves live a long time, but time and wisdom do not always go hand in hand. The name of Lir has tarnished your honor, so I can only express my apologies. We cannot undo what has already happened, nor can we replace honor with wealth, but sincerity must follow an apology. Whatever you desire, speak it. The family will do its utmost to respond.”

‘Oh.’

Criel was bewildered. The fact that the other party was not just an elf, but an elf grandfather. The bowing apology of someone who was both outwardly and in real age an elder was fatal to a scholar-knight hybrid from the land of courtesy.

“Please withdraw your words. Knowing that it was a misunderstanding rather than intentional, I do not need any other compensation.”

To help his grandfather’s back, Kriel helped him up from his seat and began to explain the reason he had come to the Lire family.

“Pollution of the spirit? Could I possibly see this spirit in person?”

[Here I am, appearing!]

Orisin sprang out from the horn knife. Nawiden observed the figure carefully. Indeed, it exuded a history that was far from ordinary.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“This spirit is my friend. I have come only to fulfill my friend’s wish, so wealth and profit are not to be discussed.”

Nawiden nodded. A rare, upright knight indeed.

In fact, at first glance, he might remind one of the abyssal commanders he fought against in his youth, but he called the spirit his friend. Spirits see the inner self, not the outer appearance, so his character was already proven.

“Then I will do my best to cleanse the filth from Orisin, the Earl. I must open the family’s vault.”

*

Kriel followed Nawiden down. The Lire family’s mansion adhered to the ancient elven architectural style, built both inside and outside of several giant trees.

These mansions had living spaces high up, where sunlight was abundant, and underground floors near the tree roots served as shelters or storerooms to prepare for external attacks.

The place Kriel was being led to was one of those storerooms, treated with utmost care. Since the young master’s recent incident, security had become particularly tight.

Elven wizards of the Lire family stood blocking the entrance to the vault.

“Elder Nawiden. What brings you here?”

“By unanimous decision of the family council, we are to issue the heirloom to help Sir Kriel and his friend. Please open the door.”

The document Nawiden presented bore the magical seal of the Lire family. The guards checked it twice before stepping aside.

As they walked through the somewhat dim vault corridor, Orisin quietly asked,

[Heirloom? Is it the one we heard about in the underground prison?]

However, the place had been closed off from the beginning, and Nawiden, being an elf, did not miss even the slightest noise.

“Yes. Did you meet Alberic?”

Orisin, who had just badmouthed the son in front of the father, stammered. Kriel tried to smooth things over.

“We were neighbors in prison. We had many conversations to pass the time. He didn’t seem like the type to sell family belongings outside.”

“Hmm. I don’t think my son stole the heirloom to sell it somewhere either. Unless he intended to fill it with alcohol and drink from it…”

“Drink from it?”

“The heirloom Alberic stole is called the Chalice of Truth. The water in that chalice strips away disguises and reveals the truth with its purifying power. …Long ago, our ancestors even used it as a drinking cup.”

Could it be that being a drunken rascal was a family tradition? While Kriel reconsidered the image of the ancient elven noble family, Nawiden headed deeper into the vault without hesitation.

“There it is. This vault is deep underground, but with the mysterious architecture of the ancient elves, light always reaches that spot. Sunlight during the day, moonlight at night. The Chalice of Truth, imbued with light, reflects it back into the water──”

Nawiden did not finish his sentence.

A pedestal bathed in a soft, mysterious light. Atop it, the silver Chalice of Truth.

As soon as Kriel caught sight of it, he strode forward and smashed it.