Gavi Merchant Guild (1)
Kriel scratched his head. What the hell was this girl talking about?
"There wasn't even an investiture ceremony."
"I gave you the armor."
Was that an investiture? Come to think of it, traditional knight dubbing rituals once involved striking various body parts with a weapon. Modern ceremonies had simplified it to lightly tapping both shoulders—that was the scholarly take on current practices. Morgina had infused holy power into his armor multiple times, her hands naturally touching here and there as an extension of the laying on of hands.
"Uh…"
"I recommended you as Champion? Me. I bestowed the Champion's armor? Me."
It was subtle bragging. Kriel couldn't fathom why she felt the need to show off, but opening up like this clearly eased her mind.
"No fancy inauguration speech, but a modest investiture by the clergy suits us just fine, right?"
Kriel recalled the High Priestess of Eve Kaha. Hadn't she said she had no intention of tying him down as Champion? More precisely, her vibe had been: There's no one else if you refuse, so just sit there temporarily.
"The High Priestess—"
Oh, shit. He'd heard "grandma" tossed around so much that it slipped out.
"…Hey! She's grandma to me!"
Morgina's reaction came a beat late. Kriel apologized inwardly for the odd slip while saying it aloud.
"My apologies. It came out wrong. The High Priestess of Eve Kaha doesn't seem to regard me as an official Champion."
Tch. Morgina clicked her tongue. Kriel glanced around. No need for compensation, she'd said, but lounging in a room he'd personally trashed left him feeling uneasy.
"Trial's over. Shall we head out and talk?"
Kriel led the pair to the courthouse waiting room. Daukrius the priest, meeting the saintess after ages, tagged along.
"Haha, your temper's mellowed quite a bit. No mace at the duel declaration—truly touching."
"Damn it, old timer. You really think I'm that unhinged?!"
"Heavens, no. Just a literary flourish."
Kriel slipped out of the waiting room while Daukrius kept Morgina occupied. Armed followed.
"Leave that Morgina friend to the priest and head back to the inn for now."
"Friend?"
Armed blinked in confusion. Hadn't she explicitly told that spirit it was an "employer-employee relationship"? And yet this woman called her a friend?
"Hm? Comrades in arms are friends, aren't they?"
"Hold on—then why am I just the employer?!"
Kriel rubbed his chin. He'd only said it that way because he was paying her.
"Think about it. Between comrade and employer, who do people usually treat more deferentially?"
"The… employer?"
"Exactly. So I introduced you as my employer to Orishin. Courtesy for a first meeting."
Armed's face puffed up in a pout. Her petite frame made it far from intimidating.
"Hey. I ditched the count's heir position because I hate pulling rank. Just treat me casually."
"Will do. You hear that, Orishin?"
Headache incoming. Kriel tapped his two swords—a signal to pipe down.
"Anyway, the wedding fiasco's more or less wrapped. What's your plan now?"
"What plan? Keep dissecting that horn dagger, obviously."
Hm? A questioning noise escaped Kriel's lips.
"Wasn't it settled we couldn't do much short-term?"
"I was gearing up reagents for proper tests when that Mazal idiot proposed. Everything till now was rushed trial prep."
True enough. Kriel nodded. Good thing their stay had time left. The lodging Armed arranged was among the comfiest he'd had in Tirnanog. Knights weren't supposed to chase personal comfort, but extending a rare luxury? No reason to complain.
"Then I leave it to you." Kriel handed her the horn dagger.
"Huh? Where're you off to?"
"Mazal Gavi."
"What? Squeezing more out of him?"
Kriel shook his head. Orishin's radar pegged Mazal as no total lost cause, but explaining he'd hear the guy out was too much hassle.
"Curious. Why's he so dead set on marriage?"
Armed opened her mouth to dissuade him, then closed it. This was the man who'd faced the Wild Hunt alone without telling a soul. "Curious" my ass—he'd check Mazal's story and step up wordlessly if help was needed. Any chivalrous soul would, he'd say. Outsiders might call it rigid knightly bullshit, but wasn't that exactly why Ket County got saved?
No matter how punchable Mazal was, as someone Kriel had helped, she couldn't block his knightly impulses.
"Fine. Come back safe."
"You want me to inspect you? Hilt to tip, piece by piece?"
Kriel headed to Mazal's inn. He already knew the spot—thanks to the recruitment flyers Mazal had plastered across Argentlam Duchy for weeks.
If I'd known Morgina would bite on those, I'd have used that plan. Disguise himself, snag the champion gig, no-show the trial. A scheme Kriel had mulled privately, then scrapped as too damn sneaky. It'd boast 100% win rate if it stuck, but Mazal wasn't abyss-spawn; no need for such lows. Now, post-Morgina bomb, he regretted not turning a blind eye once.
Past is past. Pointless to dwell.
Mazal's "inn" was the Gavi Merchant Guild's branch office third floor. First floor handled business—bustling with merchants, befitting a known outfit.
How to approach. Pose as a big investor to summon the branch head Mazal? Or just wait him out?
Tuon spoke telepathically on the sly. Kriel replied from a nearby alley.
"Yeah?"
Kriel scratched his head. Fair point.
"Something just nags at me."
After Orishin mentioned it? Partly, but something else tugged. As Kriel pondered his own hunch—
BOOM! A roar shook the air as flames erupted from the Gavi building's third floor.
And then he pinned it: that vague unease.
"Ah."
He'd seen the name Mazal Gavi before. In Tirnanog RPG. No wonder it was fuzzy—a minor NPC unlinked to the main story. One subquest, and he turned up dead right after starting it.
Kriel vaulted instantly, scaling the wall. Black smoke billowed. The blaze spread explosively. Screams echoed amid the chaos.
Time for Dark Knight powers. His authority sensed life remaining inside via accumulating blood qi—meant for slaying to steal strength, but handy for rescue scans too. One of the few Dark Knight traits Kriel deemed "marginally useful."
His vision piercing the darkness cut through the acrid haze to reveal the carnage below.
He halted mid-stride toward the fallen victims. A way to topple the fire demon devouring the building dawned.
Tuon at his waist wielded chill from the grudges of the dead.
Problem is…
Use the demon sword here? Right in the duchy heart?