The knight was walking toward the sunset.
A dark, scorched-looking plate armor. A massive sword nearly as tall as himself.
The armor might have been considered clean if not for the burn-like scorch marks, but the sword the knight carried exuded an ominous atmosphere as bright red blood dripped from it.
However, the falling blood never stained the ground.
This was because the black shadow gathering beneath the knight's feet was slowly, yet greedily, devouring the Bloodlust.
The knight suddenly stopped and raised his head. His gaze turned toward the setting sun.
In the forest darkened by the evening backlight, only his red eyes gleamed brightly.
The knight looked at the sun and thought.
*I should have been a mage.*
His name was Criel.
A former modern person who despised the system that, despite calling him a knight—one who rides (騎) and fights (士)—didn't provide him with even a mount or a single coin as starting equipment when the game began.
***
At the foot of the mountain range, Father Jakabil, the head priest of a small church in a small village, was trying to comfort the frightened villagers.
"Everyone, please wait a little longer. I've sent word to the commander. Soldiers will come soon to resolve this matter."
"But Father! It's been two weeks since Ivan left to deliver the message!"
"Stay calm. A response will come soon. Soon..."
It was hard to tell whether Jakabil's repeated words were meant for the confused villagers or for himself.
Strange and ominous events had been occurring in Loran, a frontier village near the Western Front, for several days.
The first was the youngest daughter from the potato farm. A mischievous child who, despite being scolded multiple times by the village elders, never broke her habit of wandering around the foothills.
When she didn't return home until late evening, her parents went looking for her, but there was no sign of their daughter.
The second was a girl who helped her mother weave cloth. One day she disappeared, and there had been no news of her since.
The repeated disappearances were enough to spawn terrible rumors. Since it was only natural for monsters to lurk in the deep mountains, these couldn't simply be dismissed as baseless rumors.
A mountain ghost that devoured maidens. Tales of a monster lurking in the mountains gradually spread throughout the village.
Then one day, someone actually witnessed a dark creature that seemed to lure away maidens.
No one knew whether the captured maidens were alive or dead. All Loran could do was beg the priest, who had connections with the highest authorities, to send knights to slay this terrible monster.
But even the whereabouts of Ivan, who had been tasked as a messenger, became unknown, leading to fears that the mountain ghost had realized the humans' plan and devoured him as well.
Thud.
It was then that a heavy knock sounded on the church door. The church fell silent for a moment.
Thud—.
A second, louder knock echoed. Father Jakabil opened the door, meeting the villagers' fearful yet hopeful gazes.
A knight stood there.
Well, to be precise, "knight" was the closest word the priest could use to describe him. Father Jakabil, who had once served as a military chaplain at the Western Front, remembered clearly what knights looked like.
Men wearing surcoats embroidered with glorious emblems over shining silver armor, their eyes bright with expectations of glory and pride in their honor.
But the "knight" before him was somehow different.
His plate armor, a symbol of knighthood, was not silver but stained black, and the red gleam occasionally visible beneath his deeply worn helmet seemed to contain greed rather than honor.
Most alien of all was the greatsword slung over his shoulder. The blackened blade seemed to bring not honor or glory, but an ominous curse.
"W-who are you?"
"Dispatched from the Western Front."
The knight showed him orders bearing the commander's seal. Written in concise military language far from noble speech, the orders directed him to "resolve the incident in Loran."
Though clearly the savior they had been waiting for, there was something unsettling about letting him into the church.
Shaking his head once to dispel these unworthy thoughts, Father Jakabil guided the knight inside.
***
Everyone always reacts this way.
Criel only repeated this to himself. It had been years, not months, since he began acting the part of a solemn knight. He was used to the suspicious looks from everyone he met, silently asking, "What kind of knight is this?"
To be more precise, their question was probably, "Isn't this guy a demon's lackey?"
Criel knew their suspicions were somewhat justified. After all, the title bestowed upon the body he currently inhabited wasn't just a knight, but a Dark Knight.
He could complain endlessly about this profession, but now there were more important matters.
The incident in Loran village.
In the grand scheme of the Western Front, it wasn't important. Compared to the frontlines where attacks from ancient dwarven automatons continued, Loran's troubles could be considered mere disturbances.
The reason this case was important to Criel was because his discharge from the army depended on it.
Having somehow been dragged to the Western Front, Criel no longer wanted to remain in the military.
Because of his desperate wish, Criel listened attentively to the villagers' testimonies. However, his silent attentiveness came across to the people as meaningful silence.
In the people's fear, the mountain ghost was becoming an increasingly abstract image. The only useful testimony was that the monster's form was dark and that it probably had four legs.
This was no different from what Criel had heard from Ivan before departing. He searched his mind for "black quadrupedal monsters." While game information didn't translate exactly to this world, it was enough to provide clues.
"Sir Knight..."
A farmer who had waited until the end approached Criel, who was deep in thought. He was particularly fidgety, likely having suffered abuse from knights or nobles before.
"Speak."
The old villager blinked in surprise that the knight had used respectful language with him, but soon began to stammer out his story.
He too had seen the mountain ghost abducting a maiden, and while it ran on four legs, something like smoke swirled around its body. It moved with wind-like speed and quickly disappeared.
It was nothing special. Criel was about to send the old man away with a perfunctory response.
"But you know, I think it had horns like a goat on its head."
"Like a goat?"
Two large, curved horns. An invaluable hint.
"Thank you, old man."
Four-legged beast. Fast speed. And large, beautiful horns.
It had to be a Bicorn.
Criel wasn't sure why a monster that mainly ate men in the game was now abducting maidens, but didn't its cousin, the unicorn, favor virgins?
Mutations existed among monsters. Thinking it must be a mutant exhibiting traits similar to its cousin, Criel quietly called Father Jakabil.
"I will catch the mountain ghost tomorrow."
The priest couldn't help but be bewildered by this declaration, delivered as casually as if stating that the sun rises in the east.
***
Criel attached strange conditions to catching the mountain ghost.
First, he needed one of the women who hadn't been captured yet. It was obvious that bait was needed to lure out the mountain ghost. The villagers worried about another disappearance but considered it a reasonable condition.
Second, he wanted to be accompanied by a husband from a happily married couple in the village. This made no sense at all.
Criel had hinted to Father Jakabil, "If this mountain ghost is the monster I think it is, it originally eats husbands, not maidens," but the old priest couldn't fully accept this explanation that contradicted everything they had experienced.
But what could he do? The knight said he needed bait to hunt the monster.
Most of the women who hadn't been captured yet were young children, and most faithful husbands were also good fathers.
That's why the two people accompanying Criel were a father and daughter.
The priest looked up at the knight with a gaunt face.
"...Please ensure no one dies. The wife left behind is already crying."
"Her tears will stop tomorrow."
***
Normally, noble hunts took place in broad daylight. But this knight, who had introduced himself as Criel, headed into the forest at dusk.
Forests after sunset were already dangerous places people avoided entering. How much more so now that a mountain ghost had made its nest there.
Hiding his trembling daughter behind him, the farmer asked the knight:
"...What happens now?"
"The mountain ghost will appear soon. Once I catch it, you'll return to Loran."
Criel headed toward a clearing he had noted while crossing the forest yesterday. The wild forest surrounding Loran had trees spaced too closely together to properly swing his greatsword.
That's why, while dealing with monsters in the forest yesterday, he had scouted for a suitable place to have a showdown with the mountain ghost.
Not very spacious, but better than fighting in the dense forest. Criel placed the father and daughter in the center of the clearing and drew a circle around them with the tip of his blade.
"Don't step outside the circle."
The farmer nodded vigorously. Feeling his warning was insufficient, Criel added:
"No matter what happens, you must not leave it. Suspicious voices and illusions will try to lure you, but absolutely not."
Criel placed and lit an incense stick between the father and daughter. It was monster-attracting incense he had brought from the Western Front.
Normally, such an action would draw all hungry beasts from the forest, but all those beasts had lost their heads yesterday.
The only beast that would come running was the Bicorn that hadn't shown itself yesterday.
A faithful husband, the Bicorn's natural prey, and a pure maiden, the target of the mutant Bicorn that had appeared in Loran village. Finally, the attracting incense.
All the conditions necessary to lure the mountain ghost had been prepared.