Internal Conflict (2)
“An internal conflict? What do you mean by that?”
Lucia’s face turned as rigid as stone.
The paladin, known as Oklan, continued with a somber expression.
“The vice-commander and his special task force have risen in rebellion. He claims that the glory of the order from three hundred years ago has vanished, and that the order is holed up in this remote kingdom because of the commander’s greed.”
“That’s just… absurd…”
Lucia trailed off, disbelief etched on her face.
Beside her, Dalen was lost in thought.
‘Everlock Glastin, the vice-commander of the Holy Knights.’
A formidable adversary, often ranked among the worst threats alongside the Witch of Ashes.
In truth, compared to a fully awakened witch, his raw power wasn’t particularly overwhelming. Unlike the witch, who had made a pact with a dark god to amplify her strength, the vice-commander hadn’t received power directly from such a deity.
But what made him a troublesome foe wasn’t his strength.
‘It’s because he’s the one causing this internal strife within the Holy Knights.’
The fate of the continent was like a blind man walking along a cliff’s edge. With the constant threat of war and the ever-watchful eyes of malevolent gods, humanity was perpetually on the brink of destruction.
Yet, even in such dire times, human greed knew no bounds, and few were willing to set aside their own interests to face the apocalypse head-on.
It wasn’t just the war-crazed Southern Empire. The Three Kingdoms of the East, with their stark cultural differences, ignored each other in the face of any disaster. The Western Alliance, as it had for the past century, was too busy tearing itself apart over money and power.
Only a few, like the Tsarist nation under constant barbarian invasion, the Holy Knights sealing the rifts, and the transcendents of Falcion with the labyrinth beneath their feet, truly strove to prevent the end.
Vice-Commander Everlock was the main culprit in destabilizing one of these crucial forces from within.
‘I had planned to check on his whereabouts once we reached the main base, but I didn’t expect him to incite a rebellion so soon.’
The march toward the end quickens once more.
The vice-commander’s premature betrayal was likely heavily influenced by the Witch of Ashes.
In truth, splitting an order that had stood unshaken for over a thousand years was impossible for even a vice-commander alone.
Thus, he had long conspired with the Witch of Ashes, preparing to fulfill his misguided ambitions.
And now, with his collaborator dead, he had only two choices left.
‘Abandon all his ambitions or make one last desperate stand, regardless of the outcome.’
Judging by the current situation, it seemed he had chosen the latter.
“The vice-commander claims that past commanders used inquisitors to seize power, executing capable knights by branding them as heretics.”
“How can anyone believe such madness? Are there people who actually buy into this?”
“Not many. But most of the special task force has followed him. By the time I left the main base, they had completely taken over the Third Sanctuary and were entrenched there.”
The paladin spoke with a face full of anger, his graying beard trembling slightly.
The scars and deep lines on his face were testament to his long years of dedication to the Holy Knights.
Even for such a seasoned warrior, the current events were overwhelming.
Lucia was at a loss for words for a while. Only when her lips, which she had been biting, turned pale did she manage to speak.
“I understand. Thank you for informing me.”
“It’s nothing. The commander instructed me to ensure that if I met you, Lady Lucia, you must safeguard the item you’re transporting.”
“I will. Please continue with your mission.”
Lucia forced a smile. The paladin nodded, accepting a token and documents from the knight.
“Remember, Imperial Knight, this matter must not spread.”
With a fiery gaze, the paladin warned the knight, then nodded to Dalen and his companions before riding off.
He was heading deeper into the Empire, tasked with delivering news of the internal conflict to the various branches of the Holy Knights.
After the paladin departed, the group passed through the checkpoint in silence.
Lucia continued to bite her lip, while Dalen wore his usual inscrutable expression.
Farn, glancing nervously between the two adults, kept his mouth shut. Though he hadn’t heard the paladin’s whispers like Dalen, his experience as a mercenary told him the situation was grave.
They rode on for a while after passing the checkpoint.
Eventually, Lucia halted her horse.
“Dalen. You can consider your task complete here.”
Dalen stopped and turned to look at her, silently observing the knight.
“Here?”
“Yes. If you stop here, your task will be considered complete. You’ll be invited to the main base for your reward once the situation is resolved.”
Dalen scratched his chin, then asked with a nonchalant expression.
“You don’t need my help?”
”······.”
Lucia hesitated for a moment.
She sighed deeply.
“···I do need it. But I don’t want to drag you into a death trap.”
“And what about you?”
“I’m an inquisitor of the Holy Knights. It’s my duty to deal with traitors to the order.”
Lucia forced another smile, similar to the one she had shown the departing paladin.
Dalen reached over his shoulder, grasping the handle of the sacred sword wrapped in cloth, and unfastened the chains binding it.
With a soft clink, the chains and cloth fell away, revealing the sword’s blue sheen.
The broad, long blade bore faint wave patterns, not crafted with delicate precision but rather as if someone had mistakenly struck it with a hammer.
The blade, a blend of beauty and ruggedness, was slowly caressed by Dalen’s palm.
A low hum resonated from the sword.
Both Lucia and Farn could feel the vibration, not just Dalen.
Dalen grinned and spoke.
“Consider this my payment.”
“What?”
“For this task.”
Lucia looked momentarily bewildered. Dalen chuckled and continued.
“The sacred sword chose me. After losing my divine power, I regained it through my own hands. As the witch in the Revivach Forest said, it’s as if the gods themselves have chosen me.”
And historically, that choice has always been absolute. Dalen added.
Though rare, there were instances in the order’s long history where the sacred sword recognized someone other than a knight as its master.
Some of the greatest heroes, despite not following the god of war, were acknowledged by the sword.
And during times of great upheaval within the order, these heroes wielded the sacred sword to save it from crisis.
Realizing what Dalen meant, Lucia’s face lit up.
“Are you saying you’ll involve yourself in the order’s internal conflict?”
“Of course. Otherwise, where would I get my payment?”
Dalen shrugged.
In truth, his physical abilities had improved significantly, so he no longer needed the stamina-enhancing tattoo he initially considered.
But divine tattoos weren’t just about boosting stamina.
They could enhance various attributes and provide resistance to poisons, fire, and spells.
And in these times of relentless doom, each of those tattoos was invaluable.
‘Besides, to gain divine power, I’ll eventually need to visit the Holy Knights.’
To properly wield the sacred sword or divine tattoos, divine power was essential.
And in Dalen’s memory, the most reliable source of divine power lay deep within the rift.
“···Thank you.”
Lucia bit her lip again.
Dalen chuckled, wrapping the sacred sword in cloth once more. He remarked.
“If it weren’t for the divine tattoos, your lips would be in tatters by now.”
With the sword secured on his back, Dalen gently shook the reins to set his horse in motion.
He glanced up at the sky.
The sky was a deep navy. The sun had already dipped below the horizon.
In its wake, it left layers of purple, red, orange, and yellow, like a farewell gift. Dalen thought of a sweet cocktail.
I’ll have to ask Bourbon to make me a cocktail when I get back to the Crow’s Nest.
Lost in such trivial thoughts, Dalen glanced back and said.
“Let’s move. There’s a village not far from here. We can wash up and sleep in a bed tonight.”
Dalen spurred his horse forward, following the road.
The young mercenary, startled, accidentally kicked his horse’s side, causing it to follow suit.
”······.”
Lucia, the last to remain, watched the warrior’s back for a moment before slowly taking the reins and setting her horse in motion.
Before long, she took the lead.
Dalen still hadn’t mastered the art of riding.
The main base of the Holy Knights was located in the southwest of the Kingdom of Noria.
The vast chasm known as the “Rift” stretched endlessly into the southern continent’s great forest, its depths unfathomable.
At the entrance to this abyss stood the headquarters of the Order of Knights, a formidable barrier in its own right.
After crossing the empire’s border, the group rode for days through the Kingdom of Noria. Along the way, they encountered several more couriers like Oklan.
Rumors, as swift as the couriers themselves, spread quickly. At every village inn and city forge, whispers of the knights’ internal strife were hard to miss.
“A schism in the once-mighty Order of Knights? Unbelievable. Humans truly are the most fickle of mortals,” muttered the demon from its pocket dimension. Dalen scratched his chin.
“Are you talking to yourself, or is that for my benefit?”
“Oh, just talking to myself, Master!”
“Seems a bit loud for that.”
”…My apologies,” the demon replied, its voice shrinking. Dalen could almost hear the creature wringing its hands in contrition.
With a chuckle, Dalen stood and stretched, surveying their campsite. The deep forest surrounded them, the campfire crackled, and the paladin and the boy slept soundly. Empty bowls from their reheated dinner lay scattered about.
It had been two weeks since they left Revivach, and the nightscape had become familiar.
‘This might be the last night I see this view,’ Dalen mused, gazing at the mountains beyond the forest.
They camped in an unnamed forest in the southwest of Noria. The mountain range was a day’s journey away, and beyond that lay the knights’ domain.
Despite the ongoing civil war, Lucia had assured them that the deputy commander’s forces were unlikely to control the mountain pass.
Recalling his experiences from the game, Dalen knew that the pass and the main headquarters rarely fell into the deputy’s hands. The deputy’s stronghold was typically the Third Sanctuary, where sacred relics and special armaments were kept.
The position of deputy commander naturally included managing the Order’s armory, known as the Third Sanctuary.
Staring at the constellations above the mountain ridge, Dalen suddenly asked, “Do you know much about Enaxagus?”
“Are you speaking to me?” came the demon’s voice in his mind.
“Yes, you’re both demons, after all.”
Dalen nodded and began walking into the forest. The demon pondered for a moment before replying.
“Enaxagus… the most cunning of the five gods of the underworld. Ruler of the Inverted Sky, the Thousand Hands that study the shedding of species. I was born in Enaxagus’s cauldron. On the continent, he’s best known as the Dwarf of Fate.”
“Anything less abstract?”
“Uh…”
The demon fell silent, seemingly out of information. Even Dalen, who knew most of the continent’s secrets, was in the dark about the evil gods.
The only certainty was that these gods were the masterminds behind every apocalypse.
Enaxagus, among the evil gods, was relatively well-documented. His cunning nature meant he had agents scattered across the continent.
From behind his monitor, Dalen had clashed with Enaxagus’s schemes countless times.
‘Perhaps that’s why I’ve been entangled with him so often since arriving in Falcion.’
The Apostles of Reversal, the Grand Apostle, the former commander Varguf, the Undying Demon, the Witch of Ashes.
Even the deputy commander Everlock, influenced by the witch, was under the evil god’s sway.
Dalen’s battles in Falcion had largely been against Enaxagus, with few exceptions.
‘A warrior watched by the gods.’
The words of the deceased Grand Apostle and the transcendent Everon echoed in his mind, their meaning clearer now.
In a world where divine beings existed, who were these gods watching him?
The pantheon of the empire? The evil gods of the underworld? Or perhaps…
A rustle interrupted his thoughts. Dalen turned his head.
The forest was empty.
The dense canopy obscured the stars and moon, casting shadows so deep they blurred the boundaries of the night.
Yet Dalen’s eyes pierced the darkness.
Figures clad in black armor, crafted from polished metal and supple leather, wielding weapons with blades painted black.
They had been trailing the group since evening, spread too wide for even Dalen to eliminate them all.
But as midnight approached, their strategy seemed to change.
The encircling net, which had been slowly closing since Dalen entered the forest, now formed a ring about a hundred paces around him.
Dalen sighed softly and reached for his holy sword, drawing it slowly.
The cloth and chains fell away, revealing the sword’s hidden form.
Its blade glowed with a soft blue light in the darkness.
The figures encircling him wavered at the sight.
Dalen smirked slightly and tensed his legs.
Then—
Boom!
The ground where he had stood exploded lightly, and his figure vanished from the spot.