The Absolute Paladin's Resolve
Michael's voice rang out from directly above her head.
It was enough to make Irene's tension spike without even realizing it.
Her fingers had been locked tight around the hilt of his blade. She could feel his arm stretching from behind, pulling her in close as if they were embracing while they gripped the sword together.
Yet she could not step away even if she wanted to. Such a move would have been fatal if the sword slipped and clattered to the ground.
Besides, this was his sword. For a knight, a blade was as precious as his own life. It was unthinkable to let it fall.
Not there, he corrected in a calm, commanding tone.
Here. Clench it tight right here, he instructed.
Here? she echoed, surprised.
Higher up on the grip. Just a little higher than that, he directed.
Though he was guiding her, fear made Irene brace every muscle in her body. She followed his words and wrapped her fingers around the hilt exactly as he said.
Other knights' swords varied in design, with ornate handles. But his was different. It looked like nothing more than a simple wrap of cloth around a sturdy piece of wood.
No decorations, only practicality. The moment her fingers closed around the grip, she could feel the rough, uneven wood beneath the cloth.
Just how long has he been wielding this sword for?
How many years had he carried it? The wood must be worn down from years of use.
Is this the ancient sword kept in the Temple? Irene asked.
In her previous life, even before dungeons appeared, strange objects had turned up in the most unexpected places. Things that seemed too random to be dungeon loot or reward boxes.
This sword, kept in the Temple, had clearly been carved from a tree that had lived for thousands of years in the deep forest.
The knights who had noticed the blade's unnatural power had spent a month chopping down the massive tree and pulling the sword free.
As they had predicted, it was no ordinary blade. It could cut through anything it touched.
Fights over distributing its power had left one knight alive. The others had died.
The knight who had kept the blade secret at home had accidentally cut his own family to pieces while playing with it.
The sword had quickly earned a cursed reputation and, after much deliberation, ended up in the Temple's possession.
From that day on, it had belonged to the paladin known as the Sword of Judgment.
Of course, not every paladin had wielded it. The blade's ferocity made it far too dangerous outside of fighting monsters.
It had been sealed inside the Temple once more. But Michael had taken it and headed into the dungeon.
Naturally, from that moment on, the sword had become the pride of the entire Temple.
It had no name of its own, only known as the Temple's sword. The title of God's Sword had come to Michael because of it.
He was such a devoted knight that even though it was clearly an artifact, he only allowed others to touch it if they were truly faithful. That alone was enough for the title.
Hold on. I'm holding it right now?
She had been warned that anyone not permitted to touch the sword would hear an eerie sound. Yet the blade in her hands was completely silent.
Ah, it's not that sword, she said.
What? Why aren't you using it? he asked, puzzled.
The sword is too dangerous even for me, she explained.
Are you saying that sword dislikes you? Michael asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Who could possibly control it if the sword itself despised its owner?
Michael chuckled at her answer. Then his expression turned stern again.
Focus on the sword now. I'm letting go, he said.
Irene braced harder around the grip. When he finally released his support, her body swayed forward from the sudden weight.
The sword was heavier than she had imagined.
H-how... can I...
She tried to steady herself, but her arms trembled uncontrollably.
Michael! Michael! she cried desperately.
Understanding her panic, Michael grabbed her hand again and lifted the sword once more.
The weight that had made her body sway moments ago felt as light as a feather now.
Just how strong are his arms?
He had barely exerted effort, yet the heavy blade felt weightless. Irene stared at his slender arms and realized this was no ordinary man. The veins stood out on his forearm like a wild beast's.
Concentrate, he ordered.
Yes! she replied.
He was able to read her wandering thoughts like a ghost. Irene tightened her grip again and again as he directed.
And then she understood. The limit of her strength was only a short sword.
Thank you... she managed after two hours of training, her voice strained.
Her entire body ached. Muscle soreness usually only appeared the next day, but she felt every inch of her muscles tight and sore even before leaving the Temple.
Will I even be able to walk tomorrow? she wondered.
I'll see you back to your quarters, Michael said.
On any other day she would have refused, but today she took his hand without hesitation. She would crawl the rest of the way otherwise.
* * *
A week later.
Good. Everything is ready, Irene said, standing before the mirror.
She was dressed in the standard battle attire of a Purifier. It was sturdy, but nothing compared to a knight's armor. Mobility was more important for Purifiers anyway.
Still, it had to be tough enough to withstand at least one or two monster attacks. Naturally, such gear was expensive.
The suit she wore now was the finest available among the Purifiers in the Fortress.
The leather had been crafted over an entire year from monster hides. Because it was the same material, it was lighter than any other beast skin, yet it resisted monster attacks almost completely.
As expected, this suit had been given to her by the Kingdom. Irene was still considering whether to take it with her when she left.
Irene! Everything's ready? Reina burst through the door.
Reina had also prepared just as thoroughly.
Look! Today's morning report from the document office. It includes our patrol routes! she said excitedly.
Thank you, Irene said, taking the paper and reading it immediately.
As she had remembered, one more distortion had been detected yesterday, and the dungeon had finally appeared the night before.
Unlike other dungeons that only showed their entrances, the distortion dungeon revealed its full interior.
The moment it emerged, even in the dead of night, the forest was covered in a massive black silhouette that moved with terrifying clarity.
At the same time, the screams of everyone inside the Fortress echoed.
It looked as if a giant living creature had wrapped itself around the mountain range and was writhing.
Even those who had seen similar things before let out low groans of fear.
Irene, who had witnessed it in her previous life, trembled when she saw it again. She could only imagine how terrified the others must have been.
That was why Reina had sobbed all night, certain she would never be allowed inside.
But we can't force you in... so let's cancel the raid at dawn tomorrow? Irene had suggested.
What are you doing! Come on, let's go! I'm going to wipe out that distortion dungeon! she declared with burning enthusiasm.
What happened? Irene asked, following her friend down the stairs.
Oh, so you really are going? a voice called from behind.
And there she was.
Wilhelmina... Irene's eyes narrowed at the sight of her old enemy, dressed in the same expensive attire as her own.
How long has it been since you forgot about me? Wilhelmina sneered, crossing her arms as she stared at Irene.