The Evil-Slaying Holy Knight Derck (3)
"This way."
Following Giph's lead, I stepped into a space hidden deep within the dense thicket.
A dim cave that light barely touched. Cold air drifted through the dark, weaving an atmosphere so eerie that if a demon had popped out and flicked its tongue at you, you'd have just nodded and thought that tracked. That was the kind of place this was.
And the only things living in a dungeon like this were dirt goblins? There was clearly a serious error in the monster placement process.
"What are you standing around for?"
Giph's voice snapped me out of my wandering thoughts, and I started walking.
"From here on, just watch."
"Understood."
Our destination was the far end of the dungeon. Once we arrived and cleared out the boss-class monster, all the preliminary preparations would be complete. I'd handle every pack of dirt goblins that showed up along the way — not half-assing it, but putting my full strength into every swing.
This had nothing to do with the old saying that a tiger gives its all even when catching a rabbit. It was more a matter of aligning body and will — smoothing out the process of reacting to an opponent's attacks until the motion was as seamless as possible. It wasn't essential, but it was better to do it before an important fight. It left my whole body feeling refreshed, I suppose. Calling it a mere matter of mood didn't do justice to the stubborn, lingering unease I couldn't stand if I skipped it.
"Here."
I shrugged off the cumbersome robe and handed it to Giph.
"It's valuable, so take good care of it."
"You're treating me like some pack mule."
I let his grumbling wash over me and slowly closed my eyes. A deep breath. The silence that had been hiding in the darkness flowed in through my nose. Just breathing calmly like that, the somewhat scattered state of my mind settled. My hands and feet, still not fully recovered from the hangover, more or less came to their senses as well.
This should be enough.
When I slowly opened my eyes, the interior of the cave was as bright as midday. The power of that admirable holy relic, Sun-bask — a function that kept you from getting lost even in the dark. It was so convenient I wanted to keep wearing it.
I smiled faintly and started making my way deeper inside.
The dirt goblin dungeon was a straight-shot structure, a single corridor running all the way through. No need to waste time finding the path — just keep walking forward.
Thud. Thud.
For a while, only two sets of footsteps echoed through the cave. How long had we been walking? Something felt off, and I stopped.
"What's wrong?"
"It's too quiet."
We'd come in pretty deep, and yet not a single dirt goblin was in sight. Normally they'd come swarming in droves to attack any intruder.
"Looks like someone got here first."
"Raiding a dungeon without authorization... that's a dangerous game."
Newly appeared dungeons all belonged to the Imperial House without exception. Organizations like the Adventurers' Guild handled management, but they were clearly the Emperor's private property. Which led to the miraculous logic that an unauthorized dungeon raid constituted treason against the Emperor. Absurd, but absolute power sometimes had to be understood through emotion rather than reason.
"They've got some serious guts. Aren't they afraid of the Emperor?"
"...That's rich, coming from you."
I ignored him and carefully observed the empty cave. Not just empty — a clean passageway. It looked more like a cave developed as a tourist attraction than a dirt goblin dungeon. Monsters weren't about to hire a cleaning crew, so someone had done this on purpose.
"Well, well."
I could smell a strong one. A sweet, rich aura wafted through, almost delicious. They'd probably slaughtered the dirt goblin horde and cleaned up after themselves perfectly — impossible with ordinary skill. Whoever they were, they had a talent for getting people excited.
"Did you find something? I can't see a thing in this darkness."
"Quiet."
Could they still be inside the dungeon? Worried they might slip away unnoticed, I broke into a run. Focusing only on running for a while, I quickly reached the end of the dungeon.
A space larger than expected. Strange murals stretched along the walls, giving off an ominous atmosphere. But the dungeon boss that should have appeared here was nowhere to be seen. The unidentified powerhouse had already left as well — the place was completely deserted.
Tch...
What a shame. I forced myself to let go of the lingering attachment and pushed it out of my mind. No time to waste on disappointment. A precious defeat had come right up to my doorstep for the first time in a while — I couldn't afford to get distracted.
"Why'd you suddenly start running?"
A moment later, Giph appeared, breathing lightly.
"You're here? Let's get started."
"What should I do?"
"First... grab your axe."
At my words, Giph stood there blankly with a dumb look on his face.
"Why the axe..."
"Why do you think? You think I'm going to have you chop firewood here?"
"But I already fought you."
"That was an unofficial match."
He still didn't seem convinced, so I added a supplementary explanation.
"Listen carefully. You took a dirt goblin dungeon raid request as a light workout."
Giph finally nodded as if he understood.
"So that's the setup."
"Exactly."
Now we were getting somewhere.
"Claim that after clearing the dungeon, you ran into me waiting at the end."
The excommunicated saintess, spotted in a dead-end dungeon with only one entrance. An evil-slaying holy knight itching to take me down would have no choice but to take the bait.
"Do you really think that makes sense?"
The expected rebuttal came flying.
"Why would you be in a beginner dungeon like this?"
"Leave the reasons for them to interpret however they want."
Picking apart the meaning of a work was originally the consumer's job. I just needed to enjoy myself to the fullest.
"I get the plan. But we don't really need to fight again, do we?"
Annoyingly, he kept saying reasonable things and trying not to fight. In cases like this, stubbornly pushing through was more effective than reasoned persuasion.
"If we want a convincing performance, we have no choice. Get in position."
"You really are exhausting."
Giph grumbled but eventually took his axe in hand.
"This time I'll do it properly, killing intent and all. Don't regret it."
"Please do."
Losing to a close friend isn't so bad either. That feeling of a relationship going slightly off-kilter adds a peculiar flavor.
"I'll let you have the first move."
"I won't decline."
Without any warning, Giph charged at me in an instant. Fast. Whether it was my imagination or not, much faster than yesterday.
"Looking at it now, I could give you a seventy."
With a light joke, I dashed forward — unleashing the excitement that had begun overflowing in earnest, without trying to hide it.
The daily lives of adventurers residing in Serda always followed a similar pattern.
They only took on requests about once a week — and even that was because of a rule that stripped you of adventurer qualifications if you went more than eight days without taking one. The rest of the time, their main routine was parking themselves at the Adventurers' Guild and chatting with colleagues. Behavior closer to an "Idlers' Guild," if anything.
When outsiders pointed this out, the adventurers all offered the same shameless excuse.
"The big shots take care of everything. We're allowed to slack off."
And indeed, even though Serda was a city close to the northern front line, it was the safest city in the Empire. The Nuset Church. The Purple Magic Tower. The Evergreen Mercenary Group. The Imperial Spiritist Association. With branches of every renowned organization and faction established here, it had become a city far removed from danger. A perfectly accurate assessment of Serda's current situation, as excuses went — though they never quite grasped how furious it made their parents and spouses.
Of course, not every adventurer lived in idleness. On the contrary, there were adventurers who worked as diligently as worker ants.
"I heard Giph went out on another request? He's really something else."
"Tell me about it. We should all be taking after him."
Giph, the Gale Winter Wolf — one of only five S-class adventurers. His steadfastness in taking on requests without missing a single day was more than enough to make him an object of envy.
"Maybe I should try taking requests every day like Giph."
"Didn't you say that two days ago too?"
"This time's different. I'm really going to commit and... huh?"
The conversation that had filled the room cut off in an instant. The role of mouths and tongues working so hard was taken over by eyes. Everyone's gazes flew to and locked onto the orc who had just entered the Adventurers' Guild.
A staggering, lurching gait. His face was covered in wounds, as if he'd been through a brutal fight. Anyone could see he'd been thoroughly beaten.
"What happened?"
"Who could have done that to Giph..."
Giph pushed through the murmuring, bought a recovery potion from the adventure supplies counter, and drank it. The Adventurers' Guild, always so noisy, fell silent. Everyone looked like they wanted to ask who'd done this to him, but no one stepped forward.
"Giph?"
Then one adventurer mustered the courage to carefully speak up.
"What on earth happened?"
In that instant, the sound of people gasping rose from all around, forming a chorus.
The Excommunicated Saintess. The most widely known among the Seven Great Public Enemies of Humanity. A monstrous human said to have gone mad from the shock of losing her comrades, running wild and slaughtering indiscriminately.
"She was in the dirt goblin dungeon I went to as a warm-up. I barely escaped after coming within an inch of death."
Meaning he hadn't even been a match. The adventurers, gripped by shock, began to stir.
"That's impossible..."
"What do we do? Should we run?"
"It's no use. We're all dead now..."
This might be the greatest crisis in Serda's history. The Adventurers' Guild grew noisy once again.
Amid the chaotic atmosphere, Giph frowned forlornly.
They're falling for it so easily.
Anxiety and fear spreading with astonishing speed. The commotion stirred up by the infamy of the alias "Excommunicated Saintess." It wasn't a sight he particularly liked, but it was already too late to back out.
Fortunately, the possibility of Clitia committing a massacre was extremely slim. Still, just in case, he figured he should play along as much as possible.
"Everyone be careful. She's a complete crazy bitch, just like you've heard."
Giph decided to spread the news of the Excommunicated Saintess's appearance throughout all of Serda. With a hint of personal feeling mixed in.