I Became a Righteous Knight in a Game

Chapter 106

Deryl recalled a hazy memory.

It was from the distant past.

The little boy, not yet fully grown, had secretly stolen and drunk the wine the adults had made.

He had staggered as he walked. With slurred speech, he had grinned foolishly and spoken to the adults, and was beaten to within an inch of his life.

It was only some time later that he learned that this was what it meant to be drunk.

“This is what it felt like.”

Deryl was feeling what that little boy who had brazenly put his lips to the wine had felt.

He couldn't control his emotions.

A feeling that he could do anything washed over him.

Courage welled up, and a conviction grew that he could destroy anything that stood in his way.

It would start with the lump of light collapsed before him.

He did not know its identity.

It was merely a being that had flown at him fiercely, only to fall powerlessly.

“Die.”

FWOOOSH!

Magical energy poured out like a river.

It devoured everything it touched, staining it pitch-black.

But a great dam appeared.

It was Knight Reinhardt.

He not only blocked the flow of magical energy but was actually pushing it back.

“Hoh.”

Reinhardt took the lump of light into his arms. Deryl watched with a smile.

To him, in his current state, the human knight was not even remotely a threat.

“Interesting. What is that?”

“There’s no soul in that question. You arrogant bastard. Are you even really curious?”

Deryl pursed his lips and let out a small sound of admiration.

It was not the speech and conduct he had imagined from a knight.

At this rate, wasn't his attitude more suited to a street ruffian than a knight?

“Consider yourself lucky. If anything had happened to this little one, I wouldn't have killed you cleanly.”

“Kill me? Me, in my current state?”

“This is the problem with warlocks. They get to use someone else's power for free, so they don’t know their own actual skill level. That’s why they act all high and mighty. Because they feel like they’ve gotten incredibly strong.”

The expression was crude, but Deryl agreed with the sentiment.

Even he himself could not fathom the depths of this power.

“You, you think it won’t run out, don’t you? You feel like you could last for days and nights, endlessly drawing out that magical energy. Huh?”

“Yes, that is true. And it will indeed be so.”

“It won’t last long. That’s the problem. It’s not your power, so you don’t know how to control it. In a marathon, maintaining your pace is the most important thing.”

“…What are you talking about?”

“It’s a thing, you bastard. Anyway, you’re just recklessly scraping the bottom and pouring it all out, and that’s where the power is coming from.”

The knight shot back scathingly, but to Deryl, it was merely amusing.

“You speak as if you know my condition better than I do.”

“I know it well. You think this is the first or second time I’ve seen this? And let me tell you something interesting, the archbishop who died first was at a similar level to you now.”

“…Did you say archbishop?”

“Yeah, you bastard. Archbishop. Though I don’t know his name.”

An archbishop.

Only then did Deryl become slightly flustered.

It was not an expression that should have come from a knight’s mouth.

“Anyway, you’re at a similar level to that guy. But you probably didn’t feel it. Why? Because you’re a moron who doesn’t even know how to control his power.”

“Amusing.”

“Yeah, keep acting like that. Go ahead and show off, saying, ‘I’m a super strong guy.’ You’ll collapse on your own in just a few minutes.”

What on earth was he trusting in to be so arrogant and impudent?

Deryl was puzzled.

His power was overwhelming. Having faced it directly, wasn't it natural for the human knight to feel fear?

But why.

“I told you to keep going. Aren’t you going to?”

“If you wish.”

Deryl stopped thinking.

If his opponent wished for death, there was no reason for him to hesitate.

FWOOSH-

A rough flow of magical energy engulfed the knight. It was a stronger power than what he had used before. It was an attack with enough force to destroy castle walls and cover an entire city with power to spare.

As expected.

“Damn, bastard, you’re tough…”

The knight was resisting, clenching his teeth.

He was using his vertically raised sword as a shield, splitting the magical energy to his left and right.

But he wouldn't be able to hold on for long.

Just looking at him clenching his teeth so hard it seemed his jaw would break said as much.

His limit would come soon. He would drop his sword and meet a miserable end, consumed by magical energy.

That was what Deryl thought.

He continued to pour out magical energy, thinking, pouring, and thinking.

But the knight did not fall.

He held on with an unwavering stance.

“…”

Something is strange.

Only then did Deryl feel a faint sense of crisis.

“You’re wondering, how, am I, holding on, right? You, foolish, bastard.”

The knight was even managing to open his mouth and speak, albeit with difficulty.

“It’s because, you’ve gotten, weaker, that I can, hold on, like this. You know?”

Weaker?

Only then did Deryl realize that the amount of magical energy he was emitting had decreased.

He could no longer destroy castle walls.

Instead of swallowing a city, only enough power remained to turn his attention to a small village.

And it continued to decrease.

It was like a riverbed drying up in a drought.

The concentration of magical energy thinned, the flow became a trickle, and the power it contained was gradually falling to a pathetic level.

“How about it, are you coming to your senses a bit?”

The knight no longer stammered.

He had even reached the point where he could show a smile with an utterly calm expression.

“This can’t be. I was chosen by Agrios.”

“You probably were. You have a talent for dying an ugly death. That’s about all Agrios wants from you. To live miserably, die, and finally be added to your master’s soul collection in hell.”

“No. You are wrong.”

“Really? Let’s see how long that thought lasts.”

CLICK.

The knight sheathed his sword.

Deryl felt a sense of bewilderment at that fact.

Sheathing his sword.

‘What is he thinking…’

Did he not intend to fight?

Did he not consider him an enemy even after facing such ferocious power?

The answer to that question lay with Deryl himself.

“Ah.”

There was no more power left.

The magical energy that had been flowing out stopped. The surroundings were stained completely black by the influence of the magical energy, but that was all.

The warlock himself, the source of the black magic, had not a single ounce of power left.

Thud.

And the knight approached.

His chest was puffed out threateningly, his teeth clenched, and his eyes wide.

His tightly balled fists held a sense of purpose.

The emotion on the knight's face was familiar.

Anger.

‘It’s just like back then.’

Deryl once again recalled a distant memory.

The memory of when he was beaten soundly by the adults.

***

The black blood of a magical beast contaminates its surroundings.

Even in the original work, the common knowledge that one should unconditionally avoid blackened land was widespread.

Naturally, it was not good for one’s health.

Not just for people, but for light spirits as well.

“It’s breathing.”

Reinhardt found a spot far away from where the battle had taken place.

He took out clothes from his [Inventory] to make a makeshift bed for Bitdori to rest on, and then took out a few bottles of potion and opened the caps.

‘A spirit wasn’t unable to receive the effects of a potion.’

Bitdori had its eyes closed and was breathing evenly.

Fortunately, this meant its condition was not serious.

It had likely lost consciousness due to the intense momentary shock, or it should be considered to be in a state of mild magical energy poisoning.

‘It’s a relief that it’s okay, but.’

Reinhardt fed Bitdori the potion and then gently stroked it.

‘In any case, I’ll need to be careful from now on. That guy from before seemed to have seen Bitdori directly.’

Bitdori was only visible to Reinhardt’s eyes.

That had certainly been the case until yesterday, but the warlock he had just fought had clearly perceived Bitdori’s existence.

‘It was a precisely aimed attack. If I had been even a little later, the damage Bitdori took would have been greater. Still… I don’t think it would have been injured.’

Bitdori was sturdier than Reinhardt had expected.

This time, too, it had been greatly startled, but when he checked its condition, it was at a level where he didn't need to worry.

But he did need to be somewhat tense.

He didn't know what kind of enemy would pop up next.

He would either have to train it specifically for this kind of situation, or follow Truma’s advice, grow it, and learn how to have it possess his sword.

Bitdori’s existence was clearly essential for Reinhardt to be called the Knight of Light.

Reinhardt shifted his gaze.

The carcasses of the giant magical beasts were neatly piled up in one place.

It looked like it would take quite some time just to clean up.

At this point, the materials were too precious to just abandon.

“It would be nice if there was someone to help, but it can’t be helped.”

But he would have to start moving in earnest after Bitdori woke up.

It made no sense to leave it here alone, and carrying it in his arms seemed like it would be a burden on the little creature.

In that case, there was only one thing the current Reinhardt could do.

“Let’s see if a reply came.”

Reinhardt opened the community.

It was to check if [Aslan] had added a comment.

***

Skylines Development Office.

Section Chief Han Yura said with a firm expression.

“We have no choice but to believe.”

We have to believe. There must be trust in the other party to be able to proceed with a conversation.

Team Leader Choi Ho-jun also agreed with that opinion.

“Yes. Of course, we have to say that.”

“No, that’s not it. We have to believe it sincerely. Reinhardt is a poor person who was dragged into the game while playing Soul Calibur.”

“…Pardon?”

“I’m telling you, you have to believe. Otherwise, it will show in your actions. ‘I don’t believe you, but I’ll play along.’ If Reinhardt gets that feeling, he won’t cooperate with us properly either.”

Team Leader Choi Ho-jun blinked his eyes.

Making contact was fine.

Having a conversation was also fine.

But to sincerely believe that preposterous story.

“Is that possible?”

“Nothing is impossible for a desperate person. It seems you’ve found some peace of mind?”

“…I guess I really have.”

Choi Ho-jun admitted that his attitude had changed.

It had been since the insurance of Han Yura had come into being.

At first, he had thought he would do anything he could, but now he was clearly in a state where his tension had completely dissipated.

“I will believe. I must believe.”

He needed to change his mindset.

Reinhardt was a pitiful person desperately waiting for help.

At the same time, helping him would also be helping Choi Ho-jun himself.

“Then let’s divide the roles. Team Leader, you take a half-day off and go. I’ll keep an eye on the situation here. Let me know when you’ve confirmed.”

“You mean the address where Reinhardt lived?”

“Yes.”

“Understood.”

Fortunately, Skylines had an atmosphere where one could freely use annual or half-day leave.

That is, when a pressing project like the current one was almost finished.

Choi Ho-jun hurriedly left the development office.

Han Yura remained alone, attending to her work and waiting for [Reinhardt]’s comment.

‘…When will he post.’

Even after a couple of hours had passed, no additional comment was posted.

He had said he had to leave for a bit because Bitdori had returned, so something must have happened.

‘It’ll take some time for the Team Leader to contact me too.’

The distance from Pangyo to Gangbuk was considerable.

Moreover, if he had to find a trace at a complete stranger's residence, the time required would naturally increase.

‘I heard the front door password, so. There shouldn’t be a big problem.’

It would be fine as long as she got a call from either of them.

If she could get a result from at least one, she would be able to find something resembling a clue.

And then.

At the moment Han Yura was trying to suppress her impatience and attend to her work.

-(Reinhardt): Are you still there? Can we talk?

Reinhardt left a new comment.

It was when nearly three hours had passed since their last conversation.