Easier to Fight to the Death Than to Lend a Path (1)
Kriel's head hurt.
It wasn't from overexerting his body to the point of aftereffects, nor from a weakened immune system leaving him sick. It was just...
Wait, does imperial law require entry permits for spirits? Or since I'm not even classifying it as a spirit from the start but as a sword, do I not need to report it to immigration control?
Rise, master. A true knight must have retainers. There's a monster passing by up ahead—subdue it in one go and—
His head hurt.
Kriel took Tuon's opinion to heart 120%. He didn't just subdue the monster—he cleaved it in two.
Shocked, Tuon cried out, That monster was meant to be your retainer! Orishin fired back confidently, Wouldn't a cool unicorn that speaks proper language be better than some goblin?
By the time they reached the spot where Orishin was screeching in rage at being called legless trash who talks big, Kriel wore a hollow smile.
"Should've asked for earplugs instead of a helmet."
He muttered under his breath, clutching his head, and the two spirits immediately turned on each other. It was a childish blame game—It's your fault for being so loud!
He sometimes thought about ditching them all and running, but it was pointless. If he tossed Orishin's horn blade into some forest corner, the thing would come chasing after him with its mouth clamped around the hilt. As for the ghost sword Tuon, she was bound to his soul from the start—she'd find her way back no matter what.
Kriel gave up. Accepting that eliminating the noise between floors was impossible, he tried at least to turn it down.
"Can't you two keep it quiet?"
But come on. We've been walking this empty road for days. Gotta chat to kill the boredom.
"Then talk to each other without dragging me in."
What? As a noble demon sword, conversing with such a lowly beast without witnesses would tarnish my honor.
No, seriously, everyone I meet disses me. Looks can be deceiving—by experience alone, I'm top-tier among the spirits back home!
Maybe all the spirits in your region moved away?
Kriel fell into thought. He'd been walking aimlessly, but something was off.
No people on the imperial highway?
Normally, pilgrim groups from the Empire should pass this way several times a day.
The Holy Kingdom welcomes all wanderers per the All-Gods Temple's customs and doesn't block passage. So is the Empire controlling outbound travel?
It was strange. The Holy Kingdom chafed secular powers somewhat by withdrawing from worldly interests to focus solely on purging the abyss. Still, it wielded considerable might. Rulers wouldn't look kindly on powerful foreigners crossing borders freely.
But blocking clerics' travel would stir massive backlash from the populace. Abyss purges ultimately benefit everyone. Despite the inconvenience, wasn't opening paths for the Holy Kingdom the baseline policy of Tirnanog's ten kingdoms?
Pondering without full intel wouldn't yield answers. Kriel decided to pick up the pace toward the Empire.
Master.
"What."
Monsters. Not humanoid, which is a shame, but wolves—
Tuon projected an image of the eastern scenery directly into Kriel's mind.
He casually turned his head full circle, feigning no alarm. In the shadows of passing brush, he glimpsed the feral glow of a starving wolf pack.
They lurked in darkness, but it couldn't evade a Dark Knight's sight. Kriel confirmed their forms. Their eyes held more than hunger—bottomless blackness seeped into their pupils, proof of the abyss's corruption.
Once more embracing Tuon's suggestion, he drew his greatsword and charged.
Stop, master! Wolf knights are cool!
Ridiculous objection. At the same time, Kriel felt a twinge of self-loathing for hesitating at the word cool.
But he couldn't ignore abyss kin. They were mere feral wolves now, but evolution into beasts would birth monsters beyond lupine limits. Further into demonkin, they'd shift into werewolf-like forms, lurking amid humans.
Best to nip abyss buds early.
On his first rush, Kriel gripped the greatsword's hilt near the pommel. It whipped out like silk, tracing a crescent gleam. The blade's sweep reaped three wolves' heads at once.
The pack sensed something amiss, but Kriel's Champion mark was the issue. Natural order was the abyss's nemesis. Their way was to corrupt the world with their laws; the world's innate order was their primal foe. Gods embodied that order's authority—an energy the abyss inevitably opposed.
Facing the charging wolves, Kriel felt satisfaction. Not just from his Honor, but certainty he'd replenish blood qi for emergencies.
In five breaths, the twenty-odd pack was slaughtered. Butcher's art, harvesting three or four lives per swing.
Orishin whistled. How a horse's mouth managed it was a mystery, but then a headless body speaking was miracle enough—Kriel dropped the topic.
Damn, pulling that off without armor. No wonder that thug saintess wanted you as Champion.
"Knights do this much as standard."
Wolf knight... so cool.
"I agree, but I'm not keeping monsters. Maybe if I contracted a wolf spirit."
A Dark Knight?
Tuon's habitual disdain for his class. Kriel cursed his job daily too, but hearing it from her oddly stung.
Master, embrace your inner darkness. Infinite power awaits.
"No."
Demon swords were tempters. No persuasion, but mind-drain tech was top-notch.
If not wolves, snag a wyvern for wyrm knight...
Kriel ignored the demon sword's nonsense. Cool, sure, but wyverns weren't common.
At dusk, Kriel spotted a dozen wyverns circling the border city's skies.
"No way."
See? Even the six natural laws affirm my loyalty! Master, your wyrm knight chance!
Idiot, why would natural laws affirm abyss spawn?
Absurd coincidence drew a sigh from Kriel. Thankfully, his keen sight spotted the aerial threat before the wyverns noticed him.
Or maybe they've spotted me and are ignoring.
The circling flock over the city was blatantly off. They seemed to harbor deep malice toward something inside.
Still quite distant. What now?
The gateway city between Empire and Holy Kingdom plugged a mountain pass with manmade walls. Detouring would take ages. And above all...
"What else? Gotta check it out."
Ignoring people in peril wasn't knightly.
But Kriel didn't charge the gates swinging his greatsword. One worry crossed his mind.
Should I suit up?
He scratched his hair vigorously. Even he balked at barehanded against a dozen wyverns. Complex terrain with cover like dense woods? Doable. But the well-paved road before the border city was near-flat. Fighting unarmored was dumb.
After deliberation, Kriel summoned his armor. Knightly virtue and Honor pursuit required survival first.
The border city's guards held spears at ready.
For days, wyverns circled overhead, snatching citizens with brutal talons—clear deviation from natural order. Likely puppets of evil mages, or abyss-corrupted kin, or minions of abyss-worshipping sorcerers.
Amid fear, they fulfilled duty: repelling hunts with arrows and javelins, hunting black magic's source.
Now, unprecedented tension gripped them. As sun's glow faded to night. At ominous sunset with lengthening shadows.
From the west approached a black knight.