A Paladin's Eternal Regret
Irene buried her face in her knees and let out a long sigh.
When she lifted her head, she saw Michael bathing in the lake a short distance away.
Several hours earlier, after defeating the monster, the dungeon had fallen eerily silent.
Shaking walls had stopped crumbling. Dungeon destruction had halted.
Even the presence of approaching monsters had vanished.
The only problem was that the exit had disappeared.
Irene had climbed a mound of rubble and dug where she thought the entrance should be.
Instead, she found only solid rock.
The entrance had been erased.
Of course. If the entrance had remained, the rubble would never have piled so high.
Irene swallowed another sigh and stared at Michael.
Even though he had washed himself, the blood-soaked clothes could never be perfectly clean again.
Irene stood up and walked toward him.
First, purification would be necessary. The bloodstains looked far too stubborn.
No. Purification would be useless.
What? Why?
Instead of answering, Michael gave her an awkward smile.
Irene, puzzled, grabbed his sleeve and raised her purification power.
The power she had once barely understood was now familiar.
She had used it to make him look whole again.
But... why wasn't it disappearing?
The bloodstains remained exactly as they were.
Michael wore a bitter smile and answered her question.
Because the blood is not from the monster.
But you said it was a monster.
From the moment it began following my form, it became me.
Irene had no idea what he meant. A monster had followed him. Then it had become him?
Naturally you wouldn't understand. But monsters are beings beyond the laws of this world. The fact that a monster can become human is hardly strange.
That is true...
Thinking the blood on his clothes was human made her shudder.
For now, let us rest here a little.
Michael sat down.
Irene sat beside him and asked again.
There is something I want to know...
Michael.
Even in this situation, that mattered? Irene shrugged as if she understood and called him again.
Michael, how did you know I had that dagger? Why did you use it? And a moment ago you didn't even flinch when you saw that monster. Have you seen it before? But the document storage doesn't record it.
Michael let out a small, amused laugh at the flood of questions.
Well, it will take some time to answer.
There were other questions, though. When Princess Cecilia came, why did he whisper about Irene's name and say it was because of her? When escaping, why had he headed toward the exit as if he knew every path of this dungeon?
But it seemed pointless to ask. He probably wouldn't answer anyway.
First, I have known about the existence of that dagger since the moment you obtained it. It resonates with power waves, just like the Remedy of the Nameless. The reason I used it was...
Michael extended his hand.
Irene understood what he wanted and handed him the dagger.
He drew it from its sheath with the familiarity of someone who had used it for decades and showed her the blade.
It is a pitiful little dagger. It couldn't even cut bread properly in this state. But this...
He lightly tapped the old blade with one finger.
It possesses a power that can instantly kill an opponent with extremely low probability.
Irene was shocked and pushed his hand away from the blade.
Then it's dangerous!
Yes.
Michael accepted the dagger without denial.
But how do you know? The Hand of Appraisal cannot read this language.
Michael was not there. If he had been, he could not have read that language either. How could he speak as if he knew this better than the fortress people?
Michael looked at the dagger in Irene's hand and smiled bitterly.
I have seen it before, long ago.
When? And why is there no record?
Inside the unstable dungeon of Tyrenia. That is why there is no record.
Ah.
Irene understood. The place Michael had exterminated had no record in the document storage. Of course she had not seen it.
But how do you know the power of this blade?
Irene's rising suspicion would not be quelled. She asked him again.
Knowing the power of this blade means you once used it. Why don't you have it now?
And how did this come into your hand again in a dungeon?
He should have answered. But instead he only smiled quietly.
Irene realized he had no intention of answering and stopped asking.
Instead, she carefully placed the dagger back in her bag and asked again.
Did you encounter that loud monster in the unstable dungeon as well?
No. I met it in another place.
That place was also not recorded.
Yes.
Irene sighed at Michael's calm tone.
I thought every record would remain in the document storage. I was wrong. How many unknown dungeons did I enter?
It was only a casual question. He would probably avoid answering. But...
I entered an extremely large number.
His voice, serious with no trace of laughter, rang out.
Uncountable...
The words ended with a tremor.
Irene found his reaction even more strange. Michael had gone into dungeons more often than other knights. Given his age, he should have been a veteran knight.
Yet he answered as if he had wandered through dungeons for his entire life—or longer.
The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy. Irene could not ask more about the dagger. She quietly shrank.
Then she asked the most important question in this situation.
What do we do now?
Fear she had forgotten while asking other questions rushed back.
No one who entered the unstable dungeon and survived had returned.
If it were only fighting monsters, hope might exist.
In this space of another world with no exit, there was nothing to do.
Michael would not know how to solve this either.
So would they have to wait for death? Just as she thought that, he spoke.
You will not be trapped forever. The unstable dungeon is, as the name suggests, a place that drifts across worlds without fixing anywhere. Eventually it will flow back to the world where we live. Then the door will open again.
But... if it is hundreds of years later, what meaning is that?
What could she do even if she returned?
Michael's hopeless answer left Irene depressed. She lowered her head. Then Michael asked.
Do you wish to return?
Irene was at a loss for words.
What? Isn't that obvious?
Why?
Why not? I want to go back to the place I lived. Do I need a reason? Important things are all there...
Irene answered hesitantly, then frowned slightly.
Then do you not wish to return?
She had expected the answer no.
Yes.
An answer completely different from her expectation.
Surprised, she looked back. He was staring at her and spoke again.
Everything important to me is here.