Internal Conflict (4)
The campsite where Lucia and Farn were staying was also attacked.
Even though Dalen had drawn his holy sword to lure away as many enemies as possible, there were limits to what he could do.
However, the ambush failed. As they were leaving the campsite and heading into the forest, Dalen had deliberately nudged Lucia’s blanket.
’…’
The quick-witted holy knight pretended to be asleep, then sprang up and decapitated one of the attackers as they drew near.
Only one enemy remained. Without hesitation, he engaged Lucia in combat.
This special forces operative, armed with advanced training and equipment, was capable of taking on two or three ordinary holy knights alone.
But Lucia had long surpassed the level of an ordinary holy knight.
Her experiences in the labyrinth, where she had followed Dalen and slain over a hundred gnoll soldiers and beheaded a fallen knight, had further unlocked her potential.
“I didn’t expect them to exploit an opening with an invisible dagger while on the brink of death.”
Lucia muttered, rubbing the side of her armor.
The invisible dagger had torn through her armor, leaving a faint scar beneath.
Even though she had healed it with holy power, a dull pain lingered.
“I’ve told you many times, Lucia, you have the potential to turn the tide in unfavorable situations. But you tend to let your guard down when you’re in a dominant position. Be careful.”
”…Yes.”
Lucia replied in a subdued voice to Commander Edgar’s words.
Dalen chuckled softly. It was the first time he’d seen her like this.
In the usual course of events, Lucia and the commander would never have crossed paths.
After her encounter with the demon Golakap in the labyrinth, Lucia would have fled, unable to kill the demon.
She would have wandered the city and wilderness, training until she gradually emerged in the mid-game.
By then, the holy knights would have been half-destroyed by the monsters flooding from the rift, and the commander would likely have died or been gravely injured on the front lines.
Even if, by some rare chance, they both survived to reunite, Lucia would no longer be a novice knight but a fully-fledged hero.
Conversations like this would never have happened.
‘This cycle has really changed a lot.’
Dalen silently laughed again at the thought.
“Why do you keep laughing?”
“It’s fascinating. Do you have a problem with that?”
”…I didn’t say I had a problem.”
Lucia turned her head sharply. She let herself sway with the horse’s movement.
The four of them were slowly riding towards the gate. With only three horses, the commander rode with Farn.
The young mercenary occasionally glanced at the commander’s fluttering sleeves with a mix of curiosity, kinship, and perhaps a hint of expectation.
“You’ve gotten better at riding. You used to give up halfway, saying you were dizzy. Have you been training?”
“Not exactly training, but I’ve been through worse, so I can manage.”
“Overcoming a weakness, in whatever form, is training. Well done.”
The commander laughed softly. Dalen scratched his chin.
Could he be talking about that time on the back of the armored wolf?
“But why did you come all the way here, Commander? Did you know we were coming?”
“The gods showed me when you crossed the border of the Kingdom of Noria. They also told me about the three guests with you.”
Commander Edgar smiled gently. His unfocused eyes glinted in the moonlight filtering through the forest.
Farn, looking up at him, spoke.
“That’s right! The foresight! I heard the commander of the holy knights is called the ‘Guide’ because he can see the future!”
The commander’s smile deepened, like a kind grandfather looking at his grandchild.
“That’s true. But it’s not as if I can see the entire future as people think. The gods only show me certain scenes.”
Well, it’s probably more impressive than he lets on, Dalen thought.
Edgar Reinhardt, the commander of the holy knights.
Known as the one-armed swordmaster, he couldn’t see with his eyes but could receive visions from the god of war.
The reason the holy knights, directly connected to the labyrinth through the rift, could withstand the onslaught of monsters without collapsing was partly due to the knights’ efforts and partly due to the commander’s foresight in predicting the exact day and time of invasions.
Of course, as he said, it wasn’t foolproof.
If it were, the vice-commander wouldn’t have been able to stage a rebellion like this.
“Did the gods say anything about the three guests?”
Lucia asked quietly. Edgar looked up at the sky with his unfocused eyes and replied.
“They said beside the holy knight stands a young swordmaster, a wanderer far from home, and a small tree caught by him.”
“Swordmaster…”
Farn murmured, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face.
Dalen chuckled at the sight.
A one-armed, one-eyed swordmaster.
It seemed too coincidental to dismiss.
As dawn broke, the four of them entered the valley where the gate was located.
The area around the rift entrance, where the holy knights were stationed, was a uniquely shaped land.
The main base blocked the rift entrance, with a dozen or so large and small sanctuaries scattered around it.
The main base and sanctuaries spread across a wide plain, surrounded by a circular mountain range of cliffs, forming a kind of basin.
It was as if the gods had created a massive natural fortress to protect this sacred land.
Or conversely, it looked like a pen surrounding the entrance to protect the continent from the hordes of monsters that might burst forth from the rift at any moment.
‘The gate is the only exit from this pen. Or the only entrance to the fortress.’
The mountain range was filled with cliffs and precipices.
Even mountain beasts that made highlands their home couldn’t traverse it.
Yet, miraculously, there was one deep valley anyone could pass through.
The knights’ gate was a fortress blocking the middle of that valley.
As they approached the valley, Lucia recounted the journey she had shared with Dalen.
Meeting in the silver district of Falcion, descending into the labyrinth to defeat a demon and lay to rest Barrett, who had become a fallen knight.
Their journey to transport the holy sword, killing a witch in a mandrake-filled forest, and clearing a cave of dark wizards and necromancers.
She didn’t mention the demon hidden in the subspace.
Edgar seemed to know something was there through his foresight, but confessing it was a demon was another matter.
Especially since it wasn’t just any demon, but one the holy knights had given up trying to kill and sealed away three hundred years ago.
“They say heroes emerge in times of chaos. I think I understand a bit why the gods have taken an interest in you.”
Edgar said with a smile. Dalen scratched his chin indifferently.
Praise from someone so devout felt a bit embarrassing.
“So the situation hasn’t changed much, still at a stalemate, correct?”
“Correct.”
The internal conflict within the knights was as the messengers they encountered had reported.
The vice-commander and the special forces still occupied the third sanctuary, while the main base was holding its ground, monitoring both the rift and the third sanctuary.
In truth, the special forces weren’t large enough to withstand an attack, and the third sanctuary could be retaken immediately.
Yet the stalemate continued due to the commander’s will.
“Most of the special forces didn’t rebel against the knights of their own volition. It’s because of a curse.”
“A curse?”
Lucia interjected, looking puzzled. A holy knight cursed?
The holy power of a knight was the antithesis of curses. Only an exceptionally powerful curse could affect a holy knight.
If they were truly cursed, it wouldn’t explain how the special forces were still using holy power.
“Yes. It’s a form of brainwashing disguised as a curse, a subtle manipulation.”
The vice-commander had spread the seeds of this curse through the special equipment used by the special forces.
The curse, which infiltrated the user each time they used the equipment, was a common method in assassination through curse magic.
However, in this case, it didn’t directly harm the body or mind.
If it had, the user’s soul-bound holy power would have immediately reacted.
“This curse subtly and gradually shifts the victim’s consciousness. It makes them dissatisfied with the diminished prestige of the holy knights over the centuries, leading them to believe in the vice-commander’s call for the knights’ revival.”
“How did the vice-commander gain such knowledge of curse magic?”
“It seems he didn’t create it himself. He likely made minor adjustments to neutralize the holy power’s resistance and received help from outside.”
They suspect he received help from a witch and a dragon, Edgar added.
Dalen listened to their conversation, pondering.
A dragon. It must be referring to the dragon within the rift.
‘The body that could have gained holy power… it was precariously on the edge of that dragon’s territory.’
Dalen reminded himself of one of the reasons he had come to the main base of the holy knights. Then Edgar spoke.
“Ah, you’ve arrived already. Welcome to the Order.”
As they chatted, they found themselves at the gates before they knew it.
The gate was an enormous fortress wall.
A towering wall reaching nearly 30 meters high, its ends seamlessly merging with sheer cliffs.
The gate, sealing off a deep valley between mountain ranges, looked as if it could withstand even a demon invasion.
“Halt!”
From atop the wall, a voice rang out among the vigilant paladins. A knight, scanning the group with enhanced vision, froze upon recognizing the commander. He called out again.
“Is that you, Commander?”
Edgar released the reins and drew his sword. The white blade gleamed under the slowly brightening dawn sky.
The First Holy Sword, the White Blade, Ruach.
Seeing the emblem of the commander, the knight urgently shouted.
“Open the gate!”
With the sound of heavy machinery, the massive gate, nearly ten meters high, swung open.
The group urged their horses forward, entering the fortress-like gate. It was a stronghold in its own right, stocked with enough supplies and weapons to withstand a siege for months if isolated.
“We can inscribe the sacred tattoos here at the Order. Given your accomplishments and the retrieval of the holy sword, I’ll personally see to it.”
As they passed saluting paladins and knights, Edgar spoke quietly.
“And speaking of which, I hear you’ve been acknowledged by the holy sword.”
“Indeed,” Dalen nodded.
He needed to negotiate the ownership of the sword. While the sword’s recognition was absolute, it was technically the property of the Order.
Thus, Dalen intended to help resolve the civil war and formally receive the sword as compensation.
“Normally, we’d have you rest at the Order, but if you’re willing to assist with the civil war, you might be deployed immediately,” Edgar said. It seemed they weren’t planning a straightforward assault.
Dalen shrugged. “That’s fine. Am I going alone?”
“No, Sir Lucia will accompany you, and a mage assisting us will also join the operation.”
“A mage, huh.”
Dalen stroked his chin. It had been a while since he’d fought alongside a spellcaster, not since dealing with the Apostles of Reversal.
Soon after, as Dalen entered the briefing room for the mission, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Dalen! What brings you here?”
A beaming old man with a brown beard greeted him warmly.
He was an earth mage who had fought alongside Dalen against cultists in Falcion, and one of the few spellcasters Dalen trusted.
It was Felber Valentino, an elder mage from the Elgaia Tower.