Holy Night: My Husband is Definitely a Paladin - Chapter 126
âThatâs right.â
Michael didnât deny it and returned the dagger to Irene.
âBut how do you know that? The appraisal wasnât even done in a language that could be understood…â
Michael hadnât been there during the appraisal. Even if he had been, he shouldnât have been able to read the language. So how could he act like he knew it better than anyone at the fortress?
Michael glanced at the dagger in Ireneâs hand and gave a bitter smile.
âI saw it a long time ago.â
âWhen was that? And why is there no record of it…?â
âIt was inside an unstable dungeon in Tyrenia. Thatâs why there are no records.â
âOh.â
Hearing the words âunstable dungeon in Tyreniaâ, Irene understood.
The place Michael had conquered wasnât documented in the archives, so it made sense that she wouldnât have seen it.
âStill, how did you know what it could do?â
Her curiosity still unsatisfied, Irene pressed Michael further.
Knowing what the dagger was capable of meant he had used it before. But why didnât he have it now?
And how did it end up reappearing in a dungeon and falling into her hands?
She had expected him to answer this time, but contrary to her expectations,
Michael simply smiled quietly without saying a word.
Realizing he didnât intend to answer, Irene decided not to press further.
Instead, she carefully placed the dagger back into her bag and asked him another question.
âEarlier, that loud monsterâdid you encounter it in the Tyrenia dungeon too?â
âNo. I met that one somewhere else.â
ââŚI suppose that place wasnât recorded either.â
âYes, thatâs right.â
At Michaelâs calm response, Irene sighed.
âI thought everything would be recorded in the archives, but I was wrong. How many dungeons have you been to that I donât know about?â
It was more of a mutter to herself, so she thought he might just brush off the question.
âIâve been to many.â
But a serious voice, devoid of any humor, responded.
âMore than I could ever count…â
His voice trembled at the end.
Irene found his reaction puzzling, as if those memories brought him a deep sense of dread.
Michael had ventured into dungeons more frequently than most knights, so considering his age, his experiences should have been comparable to a seasoned knight.
But why did he sound as if heâd been entering dungeons for a lifetime, or even longer?
The atmosphere grew heavy, and Irene found herself unable to continue asking about the dagger. She curled up quietly.
Then, she voiced the most pressing question of all.
âBut what do we do now?â
The fear sheâd momentarily forgotten came rushing back.
âNo one whoâs been trapped in an unstable dungeon has ever returned alive.â
She might have held onto hope if they were just fighting monsters.
But in a space cut off from the real world, with the exit gone, there was nothing they could do.
âMichael probably canât do anything about this either.â
Were they just supposed to wait for death? She was mulling this over when he spoke.
âWe wonât be trapped here forever. Unstable dungeons, as their name suggests, drift between worlds without being anchored anywhere. Eventually, it will drift back to our world, and when that happens, the door will open again.â
âBut… if that happens in a few hundred years, it wonât matter at all, will it?â
If they were found as skeletons, what would be the point of returning?
Irene lowered her head, feeling a wave of despair at Michaelâs hollow response. Then, Michael asked,
âDo you want to go back?â
Irene was momentarily speechless at his question.
âWhat? Of course I do. Isnât that obvious?â
âWhy?â
âWhat do you mean, whyâŚ? Do you need a reason to want to return to where you lived? Everything important is there, for one…â
She fumbled for an answer, stating the obvious, and then frowned slightly.
âThen… donât you want to go back, Michael?â
She expected him to say that wasnât the case.
âNo.â
But his answer was entirely different from what she expected.
Startled, she looked at him, and he repeated,
âAll that matters to me is right here.â