Flames of Compromise and Curses Unveiled
Somewhere deep in Kriel's heart, a voice whispered, urging him to pray for wisdom. "No need to draw the demon sword and invite danger. Aren't you already fulfilling your duty as a human just by trying to save these people? There's a reason they say not to mend your shoes in a cucumber patch. No point in helping and then earning suspicion."
The moment he heard it, another voice in Kriel surged up in rebellion. "Hell no! Knight's honor doesn't compromise!"
"Are you insane?"
"Not giving your all before the innocent in peril—then you're no knight!"
"You compromise plenty against the abyss—isn't that your precious knight's honor?"
Right at that point, a brilliant idea flashed in Kriel's mind. He could use Tuon.
"First, extinguish the fire with Tuon's power. If anyone senses abyss residue and gets suspicious, just pin it on some abyss spawn!"
A knight must be honorable. Smashing the abyss was honorable in almost every case—as long as it didn't throw innocents into mortal danger. In other words, adding a spoonful of blame to the abyss spawn (tentatively named Kim Abyss) that had demolished the third floor of the Gabi Merchant Company building was undoubtedly honorable.
Its threat level would rise, speeding up its capture, wouldn't it? With his perfectly knightly logic for passing the buck, Kriel drew Tuon without hesitation.
"At last! Have you realized that I am the weapon most fitting your master's dignity?!"
Kriel ignored Tuon's words. His fighting spirit flowed along the blade.
Though it wasn't dark fighting spirit infused with abyss power, Kriel's fighting spirit was an inky black that couldn't be darker. A sinister, jet-black hue like darkness itself melting away. But once injected into Tuon and mingled with the demon sword's power, it gleamed in a different color.
Compared to its original form—an endless, dense darkness unfit even for the term sword gleam—it now carried a hint of blue, dyed in a deep indigo. Resembling the night sky, it took on a glow worthy of the name, if only in appearance.
Through the fighting spirit enveloping the hilt and entire blade, Tuon discerned her master's intent. Placing ice against fire might seem foolish at first glance, but if the chill was as profound and intense as Tuon's, it could yield another result entirely.
From upper left to lower right. Kriel swiftly swung the sword.
The sword aura, altered by the demon sword, swept through the burning corridor. Normally, its destructive force would accelerate the building's collapse, but Tuon, absorbing Kriel's fighting spirit, diluted the sword aura's power to exclude all physical phenomena except overwhelming cold, per her master's will.
Snowy frost smothered the fire demon.
"Such ordinary flames cannot impede my power. Ordinary fire and a demon sword's frost stand in complete superiority!"
"Quiet."
Even amid the chaos, openly babbling about a demon sword? If it reached anyone's ears, it'd be a huge hassle.
Blue chill radiated from the sword tip, flowing down the corridor and toward the floors above and below. Boiling water hissed alongside the sharp crack of freezing.
Confirming the flames were largely subdued, Kriel dashed off in search of life signs.
Mazarr Gabi felt a heavy pain pressing down on his entire body. Dull ache from the blow mingled with the sting of burns. His body felt leaden.
"Heavy?"
Mazarr recalled his memories and was bewildered. It was strange that he was even alive now.
Reviewing documents on the third floor when the sudden explosion hit. The last thing he remembered was being flung by the shockwave. His usual protective artifact? It had served its purpose just by saving him from instant death in the first blast. It couldn't block burning or suffocation by smoke.
"Did a caravan member save me?"
Dragging him out from ground zero? Convinced he'd earned some respect in the Gabi Merchant Company, Mazarr opened his eyes.
"Oh."
Pale white hair entered his vision.
"Why are you here?"
"Because I saved you."
Kriel stroked his chin, recalling memories of Mazarr Gabi.
"In the original game, he wasn't a young man like this."
In Tirnanog RPG, Mazarr Gabi was a little kid just old enough for kindergarten. The Gabi family wasn't yet this prosperous a merchant group. The moment the quest began, Mazarr Gabi met a mysterious end. The cute youngest's death plunged the family into infighting, sinking them into a mire of horrific fratricide and suspicion... that was the content of the "Gabi Family Tragedy" side quest.
"The kid's grown into a slick young man—no wonder I didn't recognize him."
Forgiving himself generously, Kriel reflected on the Gabi family tragedy.
"In the end, who killed Mazarr Gabi never gets properly revealed."
There were subtle hints of abyss involvement in Mazarr's death and the family's downfall. Like how the Gabi family had handled military supplies for the Empire's abyss frontlines back then. Kriel judged this attempted explosion on Mazarr as abyss work along those lines.
"Probably used a scroll laced with magic. The remnants would've burned up in the blast, naturally."
Even if scroll scraps remained, if it was a mass-produced item bought from some war-specialist magic tower—not made by the abyss spawn itself—tracking it with a Dark Knight's traits would be tough.
"...Thanks."
Mazarr's curt gratitude snapped Kriel from his reverie.
"I won't ask how you happened to be there or why you saved me, not right now. First, I must fulfill a saved man's duty. My thanks."
Hearing the honest gratitude, Kriel shrugged.
"Any proper knight would've tried to save people in that spot."
Mazarr nodded in outward agreement but was inwardly skeptical. From the words during the trial process to this conversation, Kriel clearly harbored grand illusions about knighthood—big ones. Not wanting to debate his lifesaver, he let it pass, but he'd seen plenty of knights abusing privilege as upper-class during his merchant travels.
"You said thanks, so can I ask something?"
"Extending that earlier question?"
"Yeah, kinda..."
Kriel stroked his chin again. He'd suspected abyss spawn behind it from when Mazarr voiced family worries. Seven out of ten incidents in Tirnanog were abyss doing. And recalling Mazarr's identity turned suspicion to near-certainty.
But what Kriel wanted to ask right now was something else.
"Have you ever met any heroes?"
"...Heroes? Suddenly?"
Kriel nodded. This world shared much with the game but wasn't identical. Like the number of heroes. Tirnanog RPG was single-player—one hero, the player. But weren't there three heroes who'd appeared before Kriel washed up?
Kriel suspected one of those early heroes had averted the "Gabi Family Tragedy." Mazarr's survival prevented family schism, letting them keep the military supply title and grow into this major caravan—a chain reaction.
"No reason to hide it. Yes. Met one in my childhood."
Kriel nodded. Most witnesses he'd met while tracking hero whereabouts during his wandering knight days were main story characters. With Tirnanog RPG's main plot being Maou's defeat, prominent figures usually had combat prowess. His "wandering knight" status at least kept fellow knights from slamming doors in his face.
Few would coldly refuse a junior knight eager for a senior's Maou War tales. Thus, most hero witnesses Kriel met as a wandering knight were knightly types. Non-knight professions were rare.
Mazarr Gabi—neither knight nor main story character—was a first.
"After the Maou's fall, ever meet a hero again?"
"...No. I considered writing for help with family matters, but by then, the heroes' whereabouts were already unknown."
Knew it. No disappointment since he hadn't expected much. Kriel was satisfied with firmer proof that even unchangeable game elements could shift in reality. Hope overflowed: shedding "dark" from Dark Knight.
"You sought help... What trouble befell your family?"
Mazarr closed his eyes. Anxiety over whether to confess. But Kriel asking about hero ties right off suggested certainty about the Gabi incident.
"Publicly, my father, Tushkin Gabi, is said to have stepped back during his succession trial as caravan master."
"Reality?"
"Bedridden with illness. But not ordinary sickness. I believe it's a curse."
After final hesitation, Mazarr squeezed his eyes shut and ground out the words.
"I suffered the same curse in my childhood."