Pillar of Yita

”Mr. Diket?” Red Leaf looked surprised at the Knight who suddenly started talking to himself, not understanding what he meant.

What happened thirty years ago, what battles occurred here, he spoke as if he had seen it with his own eyes.

The deep, quiet corridors, the elderly knight’s voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear. He seemed to have not heard Red Leaf’s question, his footsteps rustled forward, stopping in a dark spot:

”I had retreated to this place, while Miss Misu had been pushed to the other side—”

”Miss Misu, who is that, Mr. Diket? What are you talking about? I didn’t know before this, that someone had been here in the Phantom Realm.”

Diket still spoke to himself, ”Dragon Worshippers came from all directions, surrounding us. I raised my sword to confront them, but it was knocked away.”

Red Leaf finally sensed a hint of suspicion.

She turned her head to look at Parker; the Papalarian also shook his head in confusion, his plump hands dismissing responsibility: ”Don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything, it’s not my fault!”

”I didn’t say it was your fault.”

”That may not be certain, had I not said this, you certainly would have tried to shirk your responsibility. I’ve seen this happen many times, you still have a lot to learn.”

”Shut up.”

”I’m serious, Miss Red Leaf, the guy is poor as can be. Look at his sword; it looks quite valuable, but it turned out to be more show than use,” Parker said as he struggled to turn around and take a short sword from his belt loop.

Red Leaf had noticed the sword that clinked as the Papalarian walked, wondering when he had hung it there.

But she hadn’t expected it was just picked up.

Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a broken sword.

The sword was elegant, the cross-guard and hilt spreading out like leaves, forged from fine steel, glinting faintly in the dim light.

The sword was a good one, but the blade was broken at the one-third mark, the break like a glass fracture, somewhat worn, the edges appeared to be smoothed out.

”Wait, is this Mr. Diket’s sword? When did you steal this? I mean, when did it break?”

Red Leaf was slightly startled.

She vaguely remembered, when they were fighting side by side at the City Hall, the sword in the elderly knight’s hand had been intact.

Perhaps it had broken afterward?

But the fracture did not look new.

”What, what, I picked it up, just haven’t had the chance to return it to Mr. Diket yet,” Parker said, bulging his eyes: ”Why would I fancy this thing, it’s far inferior to my Nightingale Sword.”

”It’s a thief’s sword, stolen from you and the Brass Dragon.”

”Oh, then I must have remembered the name wrong, you know, the racial talent of the Papalarians is a bad memory.”

Red Leaf couldn’t be bothered with the nonsense this guy was spouting.

She turned back to find it odd that Diket showed no reaction but then realized he had been standing there all along, his expression calm as water, as if lost in deep thought.

He stood there for a long time.

Only then, noticing his gaze did he lift his head and say, ”It has been here for thirty years.”

”Hmm?”

Red Leaf suddenly opened her eyes wide.

She saw the elderly knight slowly extend his hand, grasp at the void and draw a sword from the darkness.

The sword blade was slender, the cross-guard and hilt spread out like leaves, forged from fine steel, faintly shimmering a pale glow in the dimness—

Parker looked at the sword, then at the one in his hand, and with a clank, the broken sword fell to the ground.

The abrupt sound echoed far along the corridor.

It startled both of them.

”What are you doing, are you crazy!?” Red Leaf stared dumbfounded at the guy who was only making things worse.

”I, I, I...” Parker stammered too, in this quiet place, that sound could travel very far. Probably several floors up and down could hear it; being an expert in Stealth Action, he understood this only too well.

Among them, only the elderly knight remained calm.

He stepped across with his long sword, his gaze directed into the dark end of the corridor, speaking lightly to them, ”They are here.”

Red Leaf suddenly lifted her head, hearing a series of dense footsteps coming from ahead in the darkness.

And there seemed to be noises from behind as well—

In hardly a moment, a group of men in black robes rounded the corridor’s corner in haste, precisely the group of Dragon Worshippers they had encountered earlier at the Great Holy Cathedral.

After a brief pause upon seeing them, they dispersed left and right.

”Behind, behind!” Parker stuttered, whispering nearby.

Red Leaf turned back, only then noticing the fluorescent glow emerging from the darkness behind them, where a group of Dragon Worshippers dressed just like those in front appeared.

But their faces were pale, like the reflections of the dead—precisely the ghosts who died here thirty years ago.

Living and specter, whether by coincidence or another reason, at this moment appeared simultaneously in this place. What worried Red Leaf, however, was that she involuntarily recalled the elderly knight’s earlier words.

Dragon Worshippers coming from all directions, surrounding us—

And now, that scene was unfolding once again.

Without another word, Red Leaf summoned her Foe Slayer QV700.

And though Parker was shivering with fear, he also raised his Magic Guided Heavy Crossbow—Only the Papalarian spoke with a hint of a whimper, ”What should I do, I’ve run out of Explosive Crossbow Bolts...”

A figure stood in front of him.