Chapter 540

Turning my head away from the ridiculously lewd relief, I lit another cigarette. My head was spinning from the shock.

“Haa…”

I exhaled a sigh filled with the scent of mint smoke and approached the coffin filled with the madness of an exhibitionist. Behind the scene of the naked figure thrashing about, various reliefs continued, but I didn’t particularly want to see more.

[What do you intend to do?]

‘To take a look at your ancestor’s face.’

It was purely a gamer’s intuition, but the process of being recognized as a descendant of the Twelve Knights probably wouldn’t just end with touring this room and leaving.

That would be too bland. There must be something more.

So, I waited while observing the reliefs, but even after a considerable amount of time, there was no sign of anything noteworthy.

Light, vibrations, sounds—I thought something would happen, but no matter how long I waited, the tomb remained silent, as if asleep. Like the Colossus that had collapsed in front of the stone gate.

So… I guess I’ll have to open the coffin.

In cases like this, events usually start by touching the coffin, or you have to take an artifact from inside the coffin as proof and return. That’s the rule.

[…Is it really okay to open the coffin of the deceased? Even by Western standards, isn’t that disrespectful and rude?]

‘Who cares? If they have a problem, they can wake up and argue.’

My hand reaching for the coffin lid held no hesitation.

After witnessing the lewd reliefs, the already minimal respect I had was heading into the negative.

And so, the moment I placed my hand on the coffin…

– Whoosh!

The holy symbol of Elpinel engraved on the stone coffin began to emit a dazzling light.

As expected, touching the coffin was the trigger.

[What is this?]

‘…I don’t know, maybe they really are going to wake up and argue.’

I stepped back from the coffin and waited for the light to subside.

About five seconds passed.

The divine light that had been pouring out subsided to a gentle glow.

“Finally, has the one who inherits the Sword of Patience arrived?”

On Rotholandus’s stone coffin, a translucent man made of light appeared.

“Welcome, my first successor. I am Rotholandus, son of Milonius. Rotholandus, the ‘Unyielding.'”

…Thankfully, he was clothed.

—-

The ghost who introduced himself as Rotholandus… I guess he’s a ghost? Since he’s translucent.

Anyway, Rotholandus’s ghost was sitting on the stone coffin, dressed similarly to the statue that had blocked the tomb’s entrance.

His curly hair was long enough to cover the back of his neck, and with his bushy beard, thick eyebrows, and the wrinkles under his eyes, he looked quite dignified.

But to me, he was just a crazy exhibitionist.

[Good heavens.]

Hersela, who had unexpectedly met her ancestor, let out a short exclamation.

Well, it’s understandable. A conversation with a ghost hundreds of years old. Where else would you get such an experience? If Lacey had seen this, she might have knelt in overwhelming emotion.

Of course, that’s assuming she hadn’t seen the naked exhibitionist reliefs.

[Shouldn’t we sprinkle holy water or salt on a ghost who couldn’t ascend and is trapped here?]

‘I don’t know. Isn’t that just killing him with your own hands?’

Thinking of ways to kill him as soon as you see your ancestor? Truly, the heretical Hersela. No mercy for anyone in the bloodline except her mother.

[Kill? I’m just sending him to where he should be.]

‘He’s not a child. If he wanted to go, he’d go on his own.’

I ignored Hersela’s suggestion to immediately throw holy water.

He didn’t seem particularly dangerous, and it didn’t seem like a being that emerged from Elpinel’s symbol would be purified by Elpinel’s holy water.

So… maybe I should at least greet him.

—-

“Uh… Nice to meet you, ancestor? I am Ha-shal-leur Astika Median Ai-shan Gi-or, daughter of Ai-mel-ra de Median.”

I nodded slightly and introduced myself, reciting my full name with all its embellishments.

“Ka`har…? My descendant?”

Rotholandus’s ghost finally seemed to recognize my appearance, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows twisted.

What, do you have a problem with me being Ka`har?

Of course, you would. Even 800 years ago, Westerners and Ka`har weren’t exactly on friendly terms.

“Actually, only about half of me is Ka`har. I’m mixed blood.”

“For Ka`har blood to mix with the Median family… Did Kal Ros fall or something?”

That’s a bit harsh. The Empire didn’t fall, just your family.

I don’t know why Ai-mel-ra became Or-han’s wife, but according to Ludwig, she was captured as a Ka`har prisoner… Maybe she became a slave and was presented to Or-han, or something like that.

…Of course, there’s no need to bring up Ai-mel-ra’s story.

He clearly dislikes Ka`har, so saying in front of him, “Your descendant became a slave to the barbarians! That’s how I was born!” would be nothing short of a provocation.

“Moreover, ‘Astika’… That’s a baptismal name meaning the saintess of Astraea… Ka`har?”

“That’s racist. Is there a law that Ka`har mixed blood must live as barbarians?”

I exhaled cigarette smoke and tilted my head.

Even if he’s from the past, there’s no need to be so openly suspicious just because there’s a bit of Ka`har blood.

After all, you were a barbarian yourself. At least Ka`har wear clothes.

“…You’re right. I apologize for my rudeness. It was something unimaginable in my time… It seems the world has changed a lot while I was asleep.”

Rotholandus surprisingly readily offered an apology. Even if he’s an exhibitionist, he’s fundamentally a renowned knight, I guess.

Well, dressed so well in armor, he looked nothing but noble. Thanks to his deep voice and dignified appearance.

“A lot has changed. By the way, if I may ask, are you really Rotholandus himself? I thought the souls of the Twelve Knights would be in heaven, not in a tomb like this.”

“I am, and yet I am not.”

What does that mean? Are you Schrodinger’s ancestor?

“What do you mean?”

“During the time of Emperor Carolus and his knights, before we entered eternal rest, we vowed to leave a small fragment of our souls sealed in this tomb. To bless the successor who would one day come.”

Ah. So you’re not the actual Rotholandus, but a part of him. A gift left for descendants, huh?

That’s a welcome story. I don’t know what kind of blessing it is, but blessings are always better the more you have.

“I didn’t expect my successor to be of mixed Ka`har blood, but you have proven your worth by passing two trials. Therefore, as a knight, I shall bless you.”

Two trials…? What are you talking about? I don’t remember going through any such thing.

“Trials?”

“If you wish to inherit the name of the Twelve Knights, you must prove the nobility and strength worthy of it. By being recognized as the master of Durandal, you have proven that despite your appearance, you possess noble convictions. That was the first trial.”

Rotholandus’s ghost answered in a solemn voice, though he added unnecessary commentary.

‘…Despite my appearance?’

[Why are you muttering as if you’re wronged? From the outside, there’s no barbarian like you.]

‘This is your face, you know?’

[Even if you wrap gold in silk, the exterior still follows the shape of the contents. The same appearance can give a completely different impression depending on the cultivation accumulated.]

…Talking about cultivation. If you’re a cultured person, then flies are clean.

—-

While Hersela and I were bickering, Rotholandus continued explaining the second trial.

“The second trial was to prove that you possess the martial prowess worthy of being recognized as my successor. If you could single-handedly subdue the Colossus containing a fragment of a dragon’s heart, then you have sufficient strength.”

Ah, that.

Certainly, even if it was just a fragment, a Colossus powered by a dragon’s heart wasn’t an opponent you could easily defeat. If I were in perfect condition, maybe, but in my current state, it was a struggle.

The problem is…

“It was broken, though.”

“…What?”

Rotholandus asked, his face full of confusion. Is it really that surprising?

“It was broken. It wasn’t moving, so I just dismantled it and came here?”

I shrugged lightly and pointed towards the entrance with my finger.

“That can’t be. It was a weapon that could last at least a thousand years… Could it be that it took over a thousand years for my successor to reach this place?”

“Not a thousand, but eight hundred years have passed.”

It’s not like there weren’t people recognized by Durandal in those eight hundred years, but they probably lived in hiding, so the Holy Kingdom didn’t notice.

There must have been people like Ai-mel-ra who perished before they could bloom.

“Strange. Eight hundred years is close to the expected time… Then the Colossus breaking doesn’t make sense. A fragment of a dragon’s heart couldn’t have run out of life in just eight hundred years… Wait, could it be?”

Rotholandus, who had been muttering to himself while pondering the cause, suddenly twisted his expression as if he had realized something. His face was so sinister it could be described as malevolent.

“Those detestable dwarves, they must have stolen it during construction…!”

Is this for real?

The possibility was too high to argue.

When a non-expert commissions assembly, it’s the same in any world—they pick out the valuable parts and steal them. What an absurd situation.