Inheriting the Merchant House (2)
[That vulgar sword has no tact at all... I could tell right from the lewd curve of its blade.]
[What the hell kind of crazy talk is that?!]
Kriel silently lifted Orishin without a word.
Then he quietly headed for the scabbard. The silent scabbard that Morgina had made as a set for the curved sword. It was an artifact that had lost half its meaning because Orishin always refused to go in, complaining it was stuffy.
[Wait a sec! It's true, isn't it! Not every knight has to use a sword! They use spears too! Axes too! But if it doesn't talk, it's not a knight!]
[You vulgar wretch. How dare a sword so casually speak of other weapons!]
[What the fuck is wrong with that bastard's head?!]
Orishin sensed the horn sword gradually sliding into the scabbard. The atmosphere felt different from usual as it was sheathed. A gut feeling told him that once trapped in that darkness, he wouldn't see light for a long time—at least a full day.
[N-no way, a noble knight isn't getting pissy over this, right? I wasn't teasing—it's just the truth—]
Kriel silently shoved the horn sword into the scabbard. The satisfying click of it locking in place rang out.
It was as if he heard a voice from somewhere crying, "How pathetic, unable to accept the truth!" But Kriel decided to chalk it up to a skill side effect—hallucinations. He hadn't used any Dark Knight-exclusive skills these past few days anyway.
Since he'd probably use them soon, he could just think of this as a preview of future hallucinations.
He drew Tuon.
[As expected of my rightful master. Keeping a pure straight sword like me close instead of that lewd curved blade is truly the proper attitude.]
He let Tuon's nonsense flow past him too. In truth, there was a perfectly valid reason Kriel had sheathed Orishin and drawn Tuon.
As he infused it with fighting spirit, the blade took on a night-sky dark azure hue. Beyond the metallic chill, an unnatural cold emanated from it.
The massive face of the ash monster, Tushkin Gabi, flushed red. Flames kindled in his two eyes.
"Man, you're full of surprises!"
Morgina summoned her divine power. If this had been a church worshiping nature gods like the god of water or fire, they could have perfectly countered such elemental attacks with miracles. The god of water would summon waves to douse the flames; the god of fire would grant fire-immunity blessings.
But Eve Kaha was the goddess of fallen warriors and rest. As far as Morgina was concerned, she was the goddess of brawlers. Her miracles rarely interfered with specific elements like nature gods' did.
Facing the breath attack, she had two options: dodge or block.
This time, she chose defense. She'd max out her divine power for the shield, then counterattack the instant the assault ended.
"Hey! Pink-hair!"
"What?"
Armed was taken aback by the overly casual, almost alien nickname. Hadn't she been putting on airs, acting all refined and spouting nonsense just days ago?
"Magic! Got any spells to blow that bastard's jaw off?!"
Ignoring Armed's confusion, Morgina stuck to her blunt speech. Come to think of it, wasn't this pink-haired mage the one who'd witnessed her closest—the saintess ditching all dignity to throw down with Kriel?
Way too late to play high-class now. If she were someone Morgina didn't want around, she'd have kept up the "dignified" act to the end. But fighting alongside her against Tushkin Gabi, her temper was kinda likable.
A slingshot specialist mage? Eve Kaha would love that. Not whining about running out of mana—instead, ready to grab a rock and smash the abyss spawn's skull. Eve Kaha would definitely approve.
Armed let out a sigh—or maybe an exclamation—before speaking.
"That was my last prepared stone!"
"No backup plan? I like it! Get behind me! Reinforce cover with debris if you can!"
Morgina reshaped her twin maces into shields. But these weren't ordinary shields—more like gates, they were so massive. The red shields were mirror images, designed to interlock perfectly when overlapped.
"Kriel! You get behind... too?"
Trailing a streak of deep blue sword-light, Kriel charged. Straight through the ruined wall, in a direct line.
"This knight's a total blockhead too!"
Tushkin Gabi's massive eyes tracked Kriel leaping beyond the wall. Naturally, the flame beams shifted target to him.
Mid-leap and fall. With the sun at his back, Kriel swung his sword. Dark azure fighting spirit, crescent-shaped, burrowed into Tushkin Gabi's eyes.
Tushkin Gabi mocked the foolishness. His face was just a shape; his essence was amorphous ash. A mere slash of fighting spirit could be reformed.
But the fighting spirit flowing through Tuon resonated with the demonic sword's aura, infused with profound netherworld chill. The dark azure blade pierced the pupils like thorns, then grew like vines, cooling the ash.
Panicked by the freezing, Tushkin diverted the beams inward to melt instead of firing outward. That second or so was enough for Kriel to drop from the air.
Reversing his grip on Tuon midair, Kriel plunged it straight into Tushkin Gabi's forehead.
The power of a former Seven Great Demonic Weapon activated. Tushkin felt the horrific authority of the demonic sword devouring his essence.
[Wh-what is this...?!]
He couldn't resist. A mere blade rooted deeper in the abyss than him?!
Then Tushkin reached the question: "What is the one wielding such a blade?"
A being handling an abyss demonic sword. An appearance devoid of life or vitality. An abyss legion commander.
[Y-you, who seduced Mazar and convinced him to usurp my position...!]
Kriel didn't answer. No need to pretend to be abyss spawn for a decoy op here. Die in delusion.
[Even so! Grikenkos will punish you! Do the abyss archdukes not respect each other's domains?!]
Abyss archdukes were, of course, what abyss spawn called demons. The thoroughly deluded spawn began spewing rumors.
Kriel spoke.
"I had no hand in Mazar's resolve. Know that your greed led you to death."
[Greed...? I haven't even done anything yet—]
Tushkin was genuinely wronged, but Kriel had no intention of hearing an abyss spawn out.
He poured all remaining fighting spirit into Tuon. Like night staining the sky, dark azure sword-ki erupted across Tushkin's entire body.
The blue gem at the center of Tuon's crossguard gleamed. The blue frost spiderwebbing Tushkin's face spread instantly to the whole ash pile.
The blood qi boiling at the face's core froze solid. He tried reigniting the flames over and over, but they were smothered by the cold each time.
The glowing red ash gradually cooled. Crimson, scarlet, finally back to gray.
Tushkin gurgled his final death rattle.
[Grikenkos...]
That was it. Tuon's gem flashed once, and the ash shaped like a face shattered to pieces.
The lush garden was blanketed in ash dust. At the center of the gray waves stood Kriel, Tuon stabbed into the ground.
[Behold, my master! This is our power! With me, you can—]
Kriel swiftly drew Orishin and shoved Tuon into the empty scabbard. It didn't fully fit due to length differences, but it was enough to silence the nonsense.
[Wha—released?!]
"What are you talking about? It almost sounds like I imprisoned you."
Orishin started to retort, then glanced at Tuon vibrating in the scabbard he'd just been stuffed into. Forced silence wasn't his style.
[Yeah! Looks like things worked out, so let's go see Mazar!]
Morgina clutched the back of her neck. Sure, that sword was the best tool for cleaning up. But pulling it out like that?
Armed eyed the base of the wall suspiciously. She could see Kriel waving.
"What is that sword."
Artifacts that powerful were rare. Wiping an abyss spawn's soul with one swing? The kind of treasure only demon war heroes wielded.
"Let's head down first. Mazar, Kriel—they're all in the garden waiting."
Morgina hurriedly changed the subject. If she got fixated on that sword, it'd lead to questions about Kriel's identity—big trouble.
Armed felt lingering unease but nodded. They had to wrap this up.
Mazar shook his head at the ash pile that had been his father.
"Father..."
Mage guards trailed him like escorts. Kriel slowly approached Mazar.
"Mazar. It won't console you, but consider him not your father since the abyss corruption. I'm sorry it came to this."
"No. As you say. He'd accepted the abyss so long ago—the man I knew was gone ages before."
Whew.Mazar sighed and spoke.
"Anything more you desire? You saved our house. Name it—anything."
"Nonsense. We just did our job. The agreed reward is plenty."
"Just that much—"
About to ask if toppling an abyss kin for a few coins was really okay, Mazar sensed something off and looked around.
The guards' gazes burned with fanatical zeal toward him.
'They pre-agreed on payment! Young master knew of Father's fall all along!'
'That's why he used us to watch Tushkin until he could summon his executioners!'
Their eyes spoke volumes.
"No!"
"Pardon?"
"Whatever you're thinking—it's all wrong!"