I Became a Righteous Knight in a Game

Chapter 131

The knight of Serigel had returned.

With a halo around him, he resolved the ordeal that had befallen the Paganoa Knights.

The rumors, which had been spreading quietly within the knighthood, soon permeated the entire city.

To the citizens of Serigel, Reinhardt was a hero.

He was a being in whom they could freely entrust their sense of self.

When Reinhardt's name became famous, it meant Serigel's prosperity, and if he achieved a great feat, it was a reason to hold a festival.

“For Sir Reinhardt!”

“As expected this time, too…”

“Doesn't this mean those knights of Paganoa asked Sir Reinhardt for help! Those amazing people!”

Glasses clinked and drinks overflowed from every corner.

The laughter of people tearing at meat filled the city.

And Reinhardt was at the knighthood.

This was after he had rescued Evangeline and shaken hands with countless knights.

“I, well, I’m honestly not even surprised. It’s Sir Reinhardt, isn’t it?”

That was Ethan Taton's assessment of the situation.

Reinhardt had simply acted like Reinhardt.

A strong sense of justice and unwavering courage. With skills to match, it was only natural for Reinhardt to achieve success after success.

“...Of course, I’m not trying to downplay your achievements. Just think of it as my process of getting used to you. Though I feel it’s taking too long to adapt.”

“I do not mind. This is all I have to report.”

“I’ve received the report loud and clear. You received a request from the Paganoa Knights, or more precisely, from their Personnel Officer, and rescued Dame Evangeline who was in peril.”

“Yes.”

“There are a few more minor details attached, but they are, after all, minor. As you said, I’ll send a wagon to the Palma Mountains as soon as the equipment arrives from Elmore.”

“Yes. I would appreciate that.”

“And…”

Though he seemed to be rambling, Ethan somehow kept the conversation going.

He confirmed the information and made future plans accordingly.

Then, at last.

He shifted his gaze, which he had been trying to avoid, toward Reinhardt.

“I’m not seeing things, am I? You are glowing, right?”

“Yes. I do not know the reason.”

For some reason, Ethan let out a hollow laugh.

Reinhardt had left, saying something urgent had come up, and returned with a halo.

Anyone else would have felt the same way.

It was amazing, yet honestly, it was absurd.

“I see. You said there was no need to keep it a secret, right?”

“Yes.”

“And there’s no way to hide it.”

“There is no need to, either.”

“Because you are Sir Reinhardt. Oh, and. When are you planning to have Dirk return?”

“Dirk is.”

Reinhardt, who was about to speak, paused.

‘I forgot.’

Dirk was in the middle of training.

Near Serigel, without enjoying any of the city's infrastructure, he was living a life close to that of a primitive man.

The periodic supplies delivered by the knighthood would have been his only pleasure.

Food and clothes. And various items to help him live at least a minimally human life.

Other than that, he was just swinging his sword all day without even speaking to another person.

Until he could inflict a significant wound on a magical beast's massive tusk with a cheap iron sword.

“I will go and check on him myself.”

“Yes, please do. He seemed to be waiting for you quite desperately. He was a mess.”

“Did you go see him yourself, sir?”

“I was concerned. You said it yourself, didn't you? That Dirk has talent. And there was that incident before…”

He was talking about the attack on the training grounds.

Since that day, Ethan had become a little more cautious. He seemed to think things over a couple more times when it came to spending money, employing people, and starting new projects.

“You have gone through a lot.”

“It’s nothing compared to you. You must be tired, so you may return to your quarters. Take this with you on your way.”

Ethan handed Reinhardt a document filled with numbers.

It contained things like the quantity of items recently produced by the alchemy workshop and where those items were sent.

Naturally, a list of equipment supplied from the northern city of Elmore was also included.

“Thank you.”

So, it was essentially a report.

Instead of mentioning the inconvenient truth, Reinhardt accepted it obediently and left the commander's office.

He could feel admiring gazes from all over the knighthood.

Before, some people would have tried to strike up a conversation, but now, it seemed they didn't even dare to approach him.

The reason was obvious.

The halo.

Since he was wearing a phenomenon that in itself inspired awe, everyone seemed to feel a sense of distance several times greater than usual.

In a positive sense, of course.

“Things are more or less sorted out. Ethan has been running things quite well.”

Plop.

Sinking onto the soft bed, Reinhardt flipped through the pages of the report.

Ethan Taton was leading the knighthood splendidly.

There was no need for Reinhardt to give advice, as he knew exactly what he needed to do.

“Bitdori is fine too.”

“Ppit!”

“Nothing from the Truma side, right?”

“Ppiit.”

“Good.”

Bitdori was the same as ever. It hadn't grown any bigger, nor had it gained any special abilities.

It was hard to know whether to be relieved that it hadn't grown or to be disappointed.

He was already overwhelmed by the series of recent events.

“Nightmares, you say.”

That was what Miya had asked.

If he had been having nightmares recently.

He had naturally denied it, and the conversation ended there.

And it turned out it wasn't such a light question.

ㄴ(Aslan): The CEO has been having continuous nightmares too. They've gotten much worse recently. I mentioned it before, or did I? Anyway, the CEO came up with the entire story for Soul Calibur.

Skylines, the developer of Soul Calibur.

The CEO, Min Hyung-joon, had periodic dreams.

The contents of the dreams were always relayed to Han Yura, and based on that information, the story of Soul Calibur was designed.

“This has to be one hundred percent something. No matter how I think about it, it has to be.”

Miya Luxpenber often made silly jokes, but she wouldn't have asked such a question without reason.

She was, fundamentally, someone who knew how to handle people.

She would ease the other person's tension with lighthearted behavior.

Once relaxed, the other person would unknowingly follow her lead.

“And there’s the balance thing, too.”

That wasn't the only new thing Reinhardt had learned.

The current Paganoa Knights were not a group of justice.

Of course, they themselves probably thought they were doing the right thing.

In fact, most of the members were likely unaware of the knighthood's true purpose, thinking only that they had to fight demons.

‘They’re walking a tightrope between Truma and Agrio-s. That’s Commander Taylor’s real goal.’

It was the same with other groups.

The Floran Academy was the same, and he had been told the Imperial Family had the same objective.

To prevent the balance from tipping to one side.

To make the gods and demons confront each other in a tense standoff of power.

Human strength was to be used only for that purpose.

Not to drive the demons from this land, nor to defy the gods.

‘Hasker’s line was also a foreshadowing.’

The blacksmith Hasker, who was now a pile of ashes.

The elderly blacksmith had also mentioned something like that before he died.

Something about feeling like they were being played by the gods in their games.

“It’s not like I can’t understand. If the world were filled with only people like Dalton…”

If it is the will of a god, they would unhesitatingly turn their weapons on their comrades.

They would willingly carry out acts that humans should not.

Dalton was that kind of person. Fortunately, he was helpful to the current Reinhardt, but it meant he could turn into an enemy at any time.

If Truma ordered it so.

If he whispered for him to swing his heavy mace at Reinhardt.

“I pretty much get the gist of it.”

If that was the case, what he had to do was clear.

Maintain the balance. For now, it wasn't a bad plan.

Coincidentally, Reinhardt was also walking that line in the middle.

‘I have to guide things according to the original story, no matter what. The process doesn’t matter. As long as the result is the same.’

But the end had to be the same as the one Reinhardt remembered.

The Archdemons are vanquished. In the process, the gods, including Truma, also suffer a significant blow.

It was the most ideal picture.

Vanquishing the demons was, needless to say, the top priority, and if Truma also lost his power, he wouldn't dare cause any troublesome incidents.

“Then, as planned.”

He would play along. Make Commander Taylor believe that things were going according to his will.

Nurture talent, procure equipment and various other items, and somehow overcome the crises that arise in the process.

And most importantly.

“As long as I don’t get corrupted, it’ll be fine.”

It was to ensure that the ‘bet’ made over Reinhardt would not be completed.

The moment he becomes corrupted, the game is over. The plan to achieve the same ending as the original story would also be uprooted.

“...That’s all there is to it. What’s important is to hold on, anyway.”

In reality, they were sparing no effort to get him out.

Even if he managed to escape with Han Yura's help, it would be a meaningless result if his mind was broken.

So, he would maintain his current state.

He would protect his modern ego and the knight's body without losing them.

And while doing so, he would steadily move toward the final goal.

It would be best if he could escape along the way, but he had to consider the possibility that he might not be able to.

ㄴ(Aslan): I've organized some information that might be helpful. I'm not sure how much you already know, so I'll write down everything I can think of. If you have any questions while reading, please ask again.

ㄴ(Reinhardt): Do you not know why the halo appeared?

ㄴ(Aslan): No. I don’t know. First, let me organize the lore about the Truma Order…

There was much to do.

He had to finish the memorization homework Han Yura had given him, and he also had to reap the seeds he had sown everywhere.

“Bitdori. Let’s go out.”

Reinhardt unintentionally ended up like a student memorizing English vocabulary on a bus.

Cramming the densely written comments from [Aslan] into his head, he took a carriage to where Dirk was staying.

***

What is a knight?

It was a truly philosophical question.

‘People who are good with swords, beat up bad guys, and wear cool armor.’

The past Dirk would have answered that way.

There was nothing to think about.

That was pretty much his image of a knight.

But he had been given an incredibly long time.

With no one around, there was no need for conversation. Most of his time was spent swinging a sword, so thinking all day became his job.

When you thought about it, swordsmanship training wasn't that different from meditation.

This was especially true for someone who was just endlessly swinging a sword at a fixed target.

In the midst of endless reasoning and contemplation, Dirk found his answer.

‘A knight is a knight.’

An outsider hearing that might have scoffed, wondering what kind of answer that was, but Dirk was certain.

There was no more accurate answer to the question of what a knight was.

Clip-clop-

The sound of a horse running and a carriage's wheels turning could be heard.

The carriage stopped near Dirk.

Was it already time for supplies to arrive? Dirk thought as he turned around.

Living alone, he was unsure of the date.

And.

When he faced the person who got out of the carriage.

“...Sir Knight.”

Dirk couldn't help but smile brightly.

The knight he thought of was right there.