The Devil’s Sacred Sword (4)
“Did we say anything wrong?”
One of the mercenaries at the table shot up from his seat. He was a seasoned explorer with a shiny bald head.
“That fool let the sacred sword get snatched by a dying demon, and that’s why the mission failed! A third of the expedition was wiped out! A third!”
“What? Fool?”
Lucia, the holy knight, furrowed her brow deeply.
“Barrett was a knight recognized by the sacred sword. He fought valiantly against the demon until he fell! He’s on a whole different level than a coward like you who ran away with your tail between your legs!”
The bald mercenary rubbed his forehead, looking incredulous.
“Ha! Since when did the sacred sword start recognizing snot-nosed brats who can’t tell courage from recklessness? At this rate, I could probably wield the sacred sword with my lower half!”
“What did you just say?”
The mercenary slapped his thigh and shouted, causing sparks to fly in Lucia’s eyes.
She slammed her sword into the inn’s floor and looked around, declaring, “I challenge this worm of a mercenary to a duel! Is there no one to witness?”
As she spoke, a golden tattoo on her arm began to glow brilliantly. It was the holy symbol of the Order of the Holy Knights.
The crowd, already intrigued by the brewing conflict, eagerly raised their hands to volunteer.
“I’ll do it! Let me!”
“I’m Hans, a six-year veteran explorer. I’ll be the witness!”
They say the best spectacles are fires and fights, and a clash between a sharp-tongued holy knight and a mercenary explorer was a special kind of entertainment.
Naturally, the audience’s enthusiasm was palpable.
Screech! Thud!
Tables and chairs were pushed aside, quickly forming a makeshift arena. Most of the patrons were strong mercenaries or explorers, so it happened in an instant.
“Duel! Duel!”
“Anyone want to place bets? Bets?”
Coins exchanged hands as the crowd cheered, fists raised in excitement.
”······.”
Dalen cursed inwardly as he pushed through the throng. Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the makeshift arena was heating up.
With a six-year veteran explorer as the witness, there was nothing left to hold them back.
“If I slice that part of you that can supposedly wield the sacred sword as thin as ham, you won’t be able to run your mouth anymore, will you?”
“You bastard. Fine, let’s see you try!”
Clang.
The mercenary picked up a long chain mace and shield from the floor. The weapon had a sharp, angular weight at the end of the chain.
Lucia’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the unusual weapon, but her surprise was fleeting. Her demeanor quickly settled.
“Alright. Let’s do this.”
She said, taking a low stance with her shield and sword. The bright glow of her holy tattoo began to dim to a soft shimmer.
“Good. I was wondering if all holy knights were as pathetic as that fool.”
The mercenary strode forward, swinging the chain mace. He asked, “Are you stronger than that fool?”
“Stop calling him a fool!”
Before Lucia could finish her sentence, the bald mercenary lunged at her. The holy knight, unaccustomed to bluffing, flinched and her stance wavered.
“How cowardly…!”
Lucia shouted as the mercenary swung the chain mace with a smirk. The inertia from the spinning chain, combined with his momentum, made the weight at the end slice through the air with a sharp sound.
Whoosh―!
The force and speed were enough to crush a skull in one blow. It was too late to dodge.
Could her shield withstand the impact?
The audience held their breath, thinking the same.
Thunk!
The steel weight, capable of smashing an orc’s head, was caught in a large hand.
“What, what the…?”
The mercenary stammered, eyes wide with disbelief.
Dalen, gripping the steel weight with a powerful hand, spoke to the mercenary with a slightly weary expression.
“The duel ends here. She’s my companion.”
“End it? Do you even know what she said to me…?”
Dalen tightened his grip on the weight without a word.
Creak.
The joint of the weight groaned ominously, and the mercenary was dragged a few steps forward.
Rubbing his temple with his free hand, Dalen spoke firmly once more.
“She’s my companion, so I’d appreciate it if you let it go. Or you can take it up with me first.”
”…Alright.”
“Thank you.”
Dalen released the weight, which thudded heavily onto the inn’s wooden floor, leaving a small dent.
Leaving the mercenary with a complex mix of fear and anger, Dalen approached Lucia, who was wide-eyed.
“Sorry I’m late. You’re the one who requested the job, right?”
“So, you’re the one who dealt with the cultists…!”
“Let’s leave it at that.”
Lucia closed her mouth, looking flustered. Dalen hooked his fingers into his belt and glanced around.
Screech. Thud.
The audience grumbled as they returned the tables to their places, disappointed by the abrupt end to the duel.
A few, however, watched Dalen and Lucia with curious eyes.
Dalen spoke.
“There are too many eyes here. We need a more private place to talk.”
When they asked for a quiet place, the waitress led them to a small room on the third floor.
Dalen placed his axe on the table and leaned his sword and shield against the wall. He said, “You can sheathe your sword now.”
”…Right. My apologies.”
Her voice was steadier now, the tremor mostly gone.
Lucia sheathed her sword, its narrow, straight blade gleaming white.
“So.”
Creak.
Dalen settled into a chair and began.
“Tell me the whole story.”
“Didn’t you receive the details with the request?”
“There are things not written in the request.”
In truth, the request had been sparse on details.
It mentioned that a fellow knight, newly appointed, had descended into the labyrinth for training and lost the sacred sword to a demon.
And that Lucia, the requester, had come to this city to retrieve it.
The reward offered was vague, promising “anything the Order of the Holy Knights could provide, be it fifty gold coins or a holy tattoo.”
Sienna had dismissed it early on for a reason.
“First, sit down. I don’t know why you’re in such a rush, but we can’t enter the labyrinth until noon tomorrow anyway.”
”…Alright.”
Lucia slowly took a seat across from Dalen. Just then, the waitress knocked and entered to take their order.
While Dalen ordered a variety of dishes, Lucia only asked for a loaf of white bread and mushroom soup.
After the waitress left two mugs of beer and exited, Lucia finally began to speak.
“Sigh. What a foolish woman I am. I was taught to control my temper…”
What is this? Why the sudden self-criticism?
Dalen took a swig of beer, watching her curiously.
“First, thank you. That mercenary’s mace was fiercer than I expected.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Dalen set down his half-empty mug and wiped away the foam.
It wasn’t as good as the Leberon beer he had earlier, but it was decent enough.
“Let me introduce myself properly. I’m Lucia Castachald, a squire of the Order of the Holy Knights, protectors of the continent’s rift.”
“Dalen.”
His one-word response made Lucia blink in surprise.
“Is that all?”
“What more do you need?”
“A mercenary who defeated cultists in the city, or a warrior of the gods who vanquished a demon-possessed apostle…”
“Regardless of how you know those stories, I don’t see why such embellishments are necessary.”
Creak.
Dalen leaned forward slightly, closing the distance.
Lucia flinched back, and he spoke with an emotionless gaze.
“I’m Dalen. We’ve just met, and we can’t be sure of anything about each other. Dressing up the past or wrapping the future in fancy words only adds doubt, not certainty.”
So a name is enough. Dalen added, taking another sip of beer.
Lucia looked momentarily dazed, then shook her head slightly and said, “You’re different from the warrior I imagined.”
“See? You’re already doing it. People should get to know each other through experience, not rumors.”
“I actually like it. Now I can speak freely.”
Dalen silently finished his drink. Lucia began to share her story.
Falcion was the only passage to the labyrinth that monsters couldn’t ascend.
This meant there were other passages to the labyrinth outside the labyrinth city.
The most notable of these was the continent’s rift, where the Order of the Holy Knights was based.
It was a massive gorge leading underground, located far southwest of the central labyrinth city.
“The main duty of the Holy Knights is to fend off the monsters emerging from the rifts. That’s why the order regularly sends paladins and crusaders here to Falcion for training.”
“Sounds like a safe training ground.”
“Yes. At least, one person’s mistake won’t lead to the defense line being breached and the continent being overrun by monsters.”
In other words, the centuries-long battle the Holy Knights have been waging against the rift is a constant tug-of-war.
“My classmate, Barrett Streeman, became a full-fledged knight two months ago and left for his mission.”
He was the most outstanding among us, so I was sure he’d do well, she added.
But the labyrinth is an unpredictable maze until you step inside.
His group, consisting of one full knight, two apprentice knights, and twelve crusaders, didn’t return as scheduled.
“That’s not unusual. Every member of the Holy Knights faces defeat and death eventually.”
However, when she arrived in Falcion to mourn her comrade, news from the headquarters reached her.
One of the twelve sacred swords of the Holy Knights had been stolen.
And the thief was none other than Barrett.
“How he managed to steal it, or why he didn’t report it if he was chosen by the sword… why did he have to steal it and make things worse…”
Lucia collapsed onto the table, half-sobbing.
Dalen watched her while chewing on a rib.
“So, the rookie stole the sacred sword out of some misguided heroism, and instead of becoming a hero, he died in the labyrinth, causing trouble for the demon-slaying party.”
“Rookie…!”
“If he overreached, he’s a rookie. Imagine losing that sacred sword in the rift you protect. Can you fathom how many knights might have died trying to retrieve it?”
Lucia, who had raised her head in anger, slowly lowered it again at Dalen’s dry gaze and words.
In a barely audible voice, she said, “You’re right… It’s just… I still can’t believe it.”
“There are many unbelievable things in the world. Like something out of a novel.”
Hell, I never thought I’d end up in a game world myself.
Dalen shook his head, still chewing on the rib.
“So, you want help retrieving the sacred sword. What about the Holy Knights’ support? I heard there’s a branch in the Silver District.”
”…The branch here doesn’t have many available troops.”
Dalen paused, his hand reaching for the next rib.
Are they seriously expecting me to find the sword with just an apprentice knight?
“Recently, the monsters from the rift have been unusually aggressive, so most of the forces have returned to headquarters, leaving only enough to handle administrative tasks.”
Dalen recalled the game’s early settings.
The tutorial ends when monsters start stirring across the continent.
After a few months, things calm down, and then a massive invasion begins.
‘And when the real crisis approaches, people become complacent because nothing happened after all the warnings.’
The timing was indeed ironic.
A mission to slay demons and retrieve the sacred sword, with almost no support from the Holy Knights.
‘But on the flip side, this could be an opportunity.’
A chance to recruit someone who might become a hero in the near future.
He had no intention of giving up just because there was no support.
Besides, the demon that took the sword was currently a low-level demon.
It would eventually grow into a mid-level demon with the sword’s power, so it was better to deal with it now.
Of course, there were things to clarify.
“I expect proper compensation.”
“Don’t worry about that. Here’s an official document with the seal.”
Lucia handed over a rolled-up scroll.
The scroll, stamped with the Holy Knights’ seal, promised fifty gold coins or equivalent rewards for defeating the demon and retrieving the sword.
With that assurance, there was nothing to worry about.
Dalen finished his rib and said, “The labyrinth opens at noon every day. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow, so let’s eat. You need to eat well to grow taller.”
“Are you teasing me about my height? Among my fellow female knights, I’m the tallest…”
“Still shorter than me. Eat up.”
He pushed two ribs and a bowl of stew toward her, and Lucia sighed deeply before picking at her food.
Dalen chuckled softly and pulled the pot of stew closer.
The aroma of meat and grains filled the air, teasing his senses.
The winter night air was cold.
Dalen could feel the chill, but thanks to the dragon blood coursing through his veins, he hadn’t felt cold in a long time.
He stood on the rooftop of the Elgaia Tower.
There were questions he needed answers to before descending into the labyrinth.
Coincidentally, tonight was the night of Felber Valentino’s evening class, so Dalen wandered the rooftop, waiting.
‘Tomorrow, we finally go down.’
He looked at the barrier tower in the central square.
At noon, a portal to the labyrinth opens on the first floor of that tower.
‘One step closer.’
Closer to the hope lying at the bottom of the labyrinth, the hope of returning to Earth.
Though this time, they were headed to a cave on the first floor, unrelated to the Stone of Wishes.
Yet, in his heart, Dalen felt a step closer to the Stone of Wishes.
Indeed, he was closer.
He had already eliminated one of the many paths leading to destruction.
And he was about to erase another.
But the quiet unease settled in his heart was something his extraordinary body and achievements couldn’t dispel.
The impending threats to this land would grow far beyond anything he had faced.
And some of them were trials he had never overcome.
’…No point in dwelling on it.’
Dalen shook his head.
The past he couldn’t conquer was just a shadow.
The future yet to come was merely an illusion.
His task was to rise above the shadows and prepare for the future.
To live in the present.
“Why the long face, like an old man who’s seen it all?”
Someone opened the door to the rooftop garden.
“Thanks for waiting. It’s getting harder to teach late-night classes at my age.”
A brown-bearded old man, Felber Valentino, the elder wizard of Elgaia Tower, approached, tapping his back.
“Good evening. Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Tommy Valentino.”
Beside him was a young blond wizard, bowing deeply.
Dalen sensed the young man’s spirit had grown stronger.
“Seems you’ve gained something from fighting the cultists. You’ve got a good mentor.”
“Th-thank you.”
“What did this old man do? He followed me to the battlefield and survived a bloody fight. He did well on his own.”
Felber shook his head, his practiced humility making Dalen chuckle.
“You gave him the opportunity.”
“I didn’t even know he followed me until we returned to the tower.”
Felber chuckled and changed the subject.
“I hear you have questions. It’s late, so let’s keep it brief and rest.”
He sat on a chair by the railing, covering his mouth as he yawned deeply.
Dalen leaned against the railing and spoke.
“Tell me about dragon blood and domains.”
Felber’s mouth, open in a yawn, snapped shut. He turned to Dalen, his fatigue replaced by interest and anticipation.
“Have you already formed a small domain?”
The elder wizard of Elgaia Tower, who had formed a small domain, looked at Dalen with eyes gleaming with the magical light unique to wizards.