That was the Armor of Illusion: the Dragon Lord’s masterpiece, a full plate mail wrought entirely from outrageously expensive metals such as mithril, orichalcum, and vernadium.
The Armor of Illusion was a beautiful suit of armor, suffused with mithril’s distinctive pure-white radiance. Since it had been made several hundred years ago, it followed the classical style of Truvenia, yet it possessed an elegance that could not even be compared to Arcadia’s armor, which pursued practicality alone. Moreover, the soft golden sheen of the orichalcum inlaid into the magic circles on its surface made the armor’s appearance stand out all the more. The Armor of Illusion was perfectly complete in every respect except for the gauntlets. Perhaps captivated by the sight of it, Yuliana let out a short exclamation.
“Wow. That really is magnificent armor.”
Damon shrugged.
“Of course. This thing is made entirely of mithril. On top of that, a dragon personally inscribed the magic circles, and the material used to fill them in is orichalcum. Its ability to defend against magic is second to none.”
Yuliana’s mouth fell open. She knew very well that mithril and orichalcum were tremendously expensive metals. But to think the entire suit of armor was made of mithril—she could not even imagine how much it would be worth.
“I-it must be unbelievably expensive. And you’re going to give this to Mitchell?”
“Of course. When I spend, I spend big. With something like this, that fellow Mitchell should teach the mercenaries without a word of complaint, don’t you think?”
Yuliana nodded frantically.
“He probably will. Even I think it’s wonderful, so if Mitchell sees it himself... But why are the gauntlets missing?”
“I sold them.”
Damon cut the matter short and beckoned to Mitchell. As it happened, Mitchell was already looking at Damon. Seeming to understand the meaning of the gesture, Mitchell slowly walked in his direction.
“Did you call me?”
Mitchell’s swaggering attitude made Damon frown, but he forced himself to endure it. In the present situation, he was the one who needed something.
“I have a request.”
As soon as Damon finished speaking, the smile on Mitchell’s lips deepened.
“I had a rough idea. You want me to teach the mercenaries swordsmanship until they’re able to face the Dullahans. Something along those lines, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes.”
As Damon answered haltingly, Mitchell’s gaze slipped past him and toward the Armor of Illusion. The instant he saw the armor, shock appeared plainly on his face.
“What?”
The allure of the Armor of Illusion was that powerful. Until now, he had never seen armor so splendid and elegant. As Mitchell stared at the armor in a daze, conflict flickered in his eyes. At last, as if he had made his decision, he took a long, deep breath.
“Hoo. Is this what you prepared as payment for teaching the mercenaries?”
“That’s right. What do you think? Isn’t it useful? This armor was made by a dragon. It’s made entirely of mithril.”
Damon began rattling off an explanation of the armor, but Mitchell did not seem to be paying much attention. Even Yuliana, standing beside him, looked bewildered by Mitchell’s reaction. A strange light appeared in Damon’s eyes.
“It seems the armor doesn’t tempt you much.”
Surprisingly, Mitchell nodded.
“That’s right. This isn’t what I want.”
This time, it was Yuliana’s turn to be surprised.
“M-Mitchell, armor like this is a treasure you couldn’t buy even with money. You’ve always desperately wanted anti-magic armor. So why pass up such an incredible opportunity?”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
After answering briefly, Mitchell looked straight at Damon.
“It would be a lie to say the armor doesn’t tempt me. But there is something else I want. If you grant me that, I will teach the mercenaries with all my heart. For as long as it takes, until they can face Dullahans.”
Damon narrowed his eyes. He had never dreamed Mitchell would put forward some other condition. The allure of the Armor of Illusion was so powerful that no knight should have been able to resist it. And yet it did not satisfy Mitchell...
In truth, if one considered swordsmanship alone, Mitchell’s skill was by no means inferior to Winslutt’s. If his stamina could hold out, it would be accurate to say he could fight Winslutt for an entire day without being pushed back. Therefore, if he taught them, there was no doubt the mercenaries’ skills would improve by leaps and bounds.
‘He’s still a man with greed stuffed up to his throat.’
Having composed his thoughts, Damon quietly met Mitchell’s piercing gaze.
“Very well. What do you want as payment?”
Mitchell’s answer was truly unexpected.
“I want a duel with a Death Knight.”
“Wh-what?”
Damon was startled. He had not imagined for a moment that Mitchell would make such a demand. He had merely thought Mitchell would ask for a high-quality longsword along with the armor, but his expectations had been completely overturned. Wondering if he had misheard, Damon asked again.
“You’re saying you want to spar with a Death Knight?”
“That’s right. I heard before that they were once the greatest knights of Truvenia. Is that true?”
“W-well, it is, but... with your skill, it would be too much.”
Mitchell’s eyes shone with a certain longing. It was a gaze Damon knew very well.
“I don’t care. Even if I’m no match for them, for one who walks the path of the sword, there is no greater blessing than being able to cross blades with the strong. If I can gain such an opportunity, even the finest armor could not possibly catch my eye. I want to fight a Death Knight. More precisely, I want to fight those who were once the greatest knights of Truvenia. What do you say? Will you grant my request?”
Damon stared blankly into Mitchell’s face. But Mitchell’s eyes were unmistakably those of a martial artist purely pursuing the martial path. Having once been a martial artist himself, Damon recognized the fact without difficulty. It was the moment when the prejudice he had held toward Mitchell began to change completely. Inwardly, Damon clicked his tongue in astonishment.
‘Amazing. I judged him as an opportunist who cared only for advancement, but to think he had this side to him...’
Damon withdrew his gaze from Mitchell and spoke quietly.
“You won’t regret it, even if you don’t get the armor?”
“Of course. If you call a Death Knight for me whenever I ask from time to time, that will be enough.”
Damon nodded.
“I accept your condition. But you should take the armor. You can’t very well fight a Death Knight without decent armor.”
“No, I don’t ask for that much.”
Damon quietly shook his head.
“No. Fighting without armor could be seen as an insult to my Death Knights. Hm, come to think of it, you’ll need a decent sword as well. With some cheap blade, you wouldn’t even be able to scratch the armor the Death Knights wear...”
After he finished speaking, Damon shouted toward Increcia, which was still open.
“Hey. Is anyone there?”
A moment later, a deep, rough voice burst out from within Increcia.
“What is it?”
“Tell Helbertron to come outside. And have him bring a usable longsword.”
“Got it.”
A little while later, one Death Knight appeared before the mercenaries. It was Helbertron. Astonishingly, his body was in perfect condition, without a single wound. A few days earlier, Damon had provided him with dark mana without reserve and restored him.
Furthermore, weapons and armor were strewn everywhere inside Increcia, so Helbertron had equipped himself with a new suit of heavy armor. Under the influence of the mana permeating the Death Knight’s body, the new armor emitted a chilling jet-black light. The Rehert Saber still gleamed sharply at his waist, and in his left hand he held a sword.
“At last.”
Mitchell, who had been waiting, let his eyes shine. His heart was filled with pure competitive spirit. Helbertron looked around, his gaze flashing with a fierce light, then opened his mouth in a gloomy tone.
“Why did you call me?”
“I have something for you to do...”
After answering briefly, Damon stretched out a finger and pointed at Mitchell.
“I want you to fight that fellow once. He says he wants to fight you with the pride of an Arcadian knight on the line.”
Helbertron’s head slowly turned toward Mitchell. As that chilling gaze focused on him, Mitchell felt goosebumps rise over his skin before he knew it. A Death Knight’s gaze was that intense. After observing Mitchell for a moment, Helbertron shook his head.
“A greenhorn. His fundamentals are fairly solid, but he still isn’t my match.”
At those words, Mitchell reflexively took a step forward.
“I know very well that I am not your match. Even so, I truly want to fight you.”
“......”
“Please teach me a thing or two. As warriors walking the path of the sword together, I ask that you understand my heart.”
A look of surprise appeared in Helbertron’s eyes. Mitchell was entirely different from the man he had dealt with when disguised as a mercenary not long ago. The shabby appearance he had shown then was nowhere to be seen. From Mitchell’s entire body now, the bearing of a martial artist walking the path of martial pursuit was clearly emanating. After a moment, Helbertron nodded as if he had made up his mind.
“A fellow whose mindset is more outstanding than his skill. With that much, you are qualified to fight me. Good. Take this sword.”
With those words, Helbertron threw the spare longsword he had brought to Mitchell. Mitchell caught the sword without thinking and was so surprised his eyes nearly popped out.
“Th-this sword is...?”
He too was a knight, so Mitchell could not possibly lack an eye for swords. In his eyes, the sword the Death Knight had thrown was no ordinary item at first glance. From the hilt shaped like a dragon’s head to the elegant carvings on the scabbard, this was by no means an ordinary sword. Without realizing it, Mitchell drew the blade.
Shing.
With a light metallic sound, the unsheathed sword released dazzling streams of sharpness. A chill blue light stimulated Mitchell’s eyes. Moreover, the light weight conveyed through his hand told him that this sword had certainly not been made from common metal such as iron. As Mitchell ran his hand over the blade as if entranced, Helbertron’s impassive voice reached his ears.
“It is a sword made by melting the scales of a Blue Dragon with magical flames. It has an orichalcum coating, making it especially effective when facing undead. With that much, you should have no lack in facing me.”
At those words, Mitchell came to his senses and assumed his stance. Then he looked at Damon with eyes that seemed to plead for something.
“Do you mean to give me this sword?”
Damon silently nodded.
“Of course. And I’ll give you that armor as well. If you’re going to face a Death Knight, hurry up and put it on.”
“Thank you. Truly.”
Mitchell gazed at Damon with an indescribable look, then began putting on the armor piece by piece. Astonishingly, the Armor of Illusion fit Mitchell’s body perfectly. Since its form was different, it took a little time to put on, but for Mitchell, who was used to wearing armor, it was not particularly difficult.
When he finally pulled the helmet on, Mitchell’s appearance had changed completely. He stood there transformed, his bearing like that of a heavenly knight. It contrasted perfectly with Helbertron, who could be described as a warrior of hell. The pure white of mithril and the golden glow of orichalcum blended with Mitchell’s handsome face, forming perfect harmony.