Lancelot's Story

I looked toward the door with excitement, hoping for a talent no less impressive than Augus.

From Augus, I had discovered a phenomenon: in this world, many powerful individuals might be hidden among the common people.

Given the unique nature of the temples of the Eight Nations of the Holy Church—especially my specific status—no one would dare to apply without sufficient self-confidence.

A figure... slowly appeared before the great hall.

A massive shadow of a cross was cast upon the floor.

The moment I saw this person, the first thing that came to mind was... the female priest from a certain famous game.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, studying him carefully.

The man was draped in a brown robe, his burly frame stretching the fabric tight.

His wrists were almost as thick as my thighs.

His hands were heavy and calloused, his skin weathered by time.

One look was enough to tell that this was a man who had survived a hundred battles!

Just as he walked in, Hilda followed closely behind and entered the hall.

While I was wondering why Hilda had come, I suddenly saw her dash past the man and block his path.

"Lay down the weapon behind you! Otherwise, do not dream of taking another step into this hall!!"

Hilda's sword was already unsheathed.

Her sharp aura was so intense that her long hair began to flutter even though there was no wind.

Clearly, if the man intended to keep moving, his head would be separated from his shoulders in the next instant.

The man kept his head lowered. From my angle, I could not see the expression on his face.

However, judging by his movements, he seemed to glance at Hilda before reaching up to unbuckle the leather straps on his shoulders.

THUD!!

As the buckles released, the massive cross on his back—which looked like a solid block of iron—slammed heavily onto the floor.

Even the floor tiles, which had been reinforced with magic, shattered instantly.

Sitting upon the sacred platform, I could even feel the ground tremble slightly.

The moment the giant cross hit the ground, it stood there firmly.

The man looked at Hilda and asked in a raspy voice:

"Is this acceptable?"

Hilda's expression grew even more solemn. Her knees bent slightly as she prepared to strike at any moment.

Her eyes were locked on the man, her left hand gripping the scabbard while her thumb had already pushed the blade out a short distance.

Cold weapons in this era were not for show; practicality was the priority.

To prevent accidental unsheathing during movement, scabbards were equipped with spring locks.

The fact that she had already released the lock showed how much of a threat she considered this man to be.

"Please refrain from any aggressive actions, or I will strike immediately."

The man nodded, his face remaining unchanged. He replied in that same raspy voice:

"I understand."

Hilda's attributes, with the bonus from her title, reached 390%. Her power and speed were roughly three to four times that of an average level fifty expert.

Of course, despite such a massive attribute boost, the actual power she could exert was at most a little over double.

She was human, after all, and humans had limits. Unless she broke through the level sixty threshold, she could not bypass those restrictions.

Furthermore, there was no guarantee that the stranger before us did not possess his own attribute titles.

For someone to make her this wary, his strength had to be at least equal to hers, if not overwhelming.

The man continued forward while Hilda retreated step by step until her heel touched the first step of the sacred platform.

"Stop right there. If you have something to say, say it from here."

The man did not speak. He did not seem to take issue with Hilda's attitude.

Ignoring Hilda, the man slowly bent his body. With his right hand behind his back, his left hand supporting him on the ground, and his right knee touching the floor, he performed a perfect knight's kowtow.

"Lancelot the Sinner pays his respects to Her Highness, the Saintess of the Moon."

Lancelot the Sinner??

A thought flashed through my mind.

I vaguely remembered seeing a similar self-designation in a book somewhere.

But before I could react, the sound of a sword being drawn suddenly echoed from below the platform.

CLANG!

When I looked down again, Hilda's short defensive sword was pointed directly at Lancelot.

At the same time, her angry voice rang through the hall.

"A sinner against God! You dare come to the Temple? Do you not know that any Temple Knight has the right to slay a Sinner on sight?"

"I know."

The man replied calmly, ignoring the short sword that was practically touching his forehead.

"Since you know that, yet you still dare to come here, you must be prepared for death?"

In that instant, I finally remembered where I had seen that title before.

"Hilda, sheathe your sword!"

Hilda froze and suddenly turned her head to shout:

"But Your Highness, he is a Sinner! All Temple knights must kill them on sight!"

"I know, but I am telling you to stop now."

Hilda took a deep breath, looked back at Lancelot warily, and slowly lowered her sword hand.

However, she did not return the blade to its scabbard, keeping it gripped in her right palm.

From the look of it, she still had not abandoned the idea of killing him.

Lancelot's tall figure remained kneeling on the ground like a devout clergyman.

Even when Hilda's blade was less than half an inch from his forehead, he had not flinched.

It seemed he was waiting for something.

Looking at his bowed head, I spoke.

"Lancelot, you may rise."

"My thanks, Your Highness."

As expected, he was waiting for my response. If I had not answered, he probably would not have moved even if that sword had pierced his brain.

What could drive a Sinner to come to the Temple with such grim determination?

【Sinner】

These words were a title given to all those who had betrayed the Holy Church.

Yet, those who carried this title were no ordinary people.

Knights who fell to corruption were not called Sinners, for they were no longer human but demonized beasts.

The title of Sinner was reserved only for those who had betrayed the Holy Church but remained human and were subsequently exiled.

"Lancelot the Sinner... is that right?"

"In response to Your Highness, yes."

"You know that it is a Temple Knight's duty to slay a Sinner. The moment you stepped into this Temple, it would have been perfectly natural for Hilda to kill you."

"I know."

He knew everything, yet he still risked his life to stand before me. Why?

I was starting to get curious.

"Since you know, why did you come?"

"..."

Lancelot did not respond. He simply stood there silently, his face devoid of any expression, like a machine.

But at this moment, I could clearly sense his hesitation.

"Lancelot, if you have nothing to say, please leave. This time, because you answered the Recruitment Order, I will spare your life. Once you leave the Temple, flee immediately. I will not allow the knights to pursue you for one day."

Lancelot was stunned. He looked up slightly, his gaze resting on me with a strange intensity.

"Your Highness, I can speak. But... I hope that after I tell my story, Your Highness will consider it carefully."

"That goes without saying. I will consider it."

Looking at Lancelot below, he pondered for a moment before looking up at me.

It was only at this moment that I truly saw his face.

He had a very standard square face, rugged and broad, with thick eyebrows and fierce eyes. He had a high nose, thick lips, and a face weathered by wind and sand.

He had short, brown hair, and his pale blue eyes were filled with a faint sorrow.

Most importantly... a scar ran diagonally across his face.

The scar nearly split his face in two, running from his upper left forehead down to his right cheek.

Lancelot paused for a moment before slowly speaking.

"Since Your Highness wishes to know, a Sinner like me has nothing to hide."

"I was originally a Temple Knight of the Holy See. During a mission, I refused an order and defied the archbishop. As a result, I was exiled and became a Sinner."

"Hmm."

I nodded, listening intently for what came next.

Then, the entire hall fell into a dead silence.

I blinked, staring at Lancelot's face.

"That is it? Nothing else?"

Lancelot nodded earnestly.

"That is it. Nothing else."

This was the most brief explanation I had ever heard.

What was the cause?

What happened during the mission?

What was the outcome?

You are just going to leave it at that?

"No... wait, Lancelot, do you not want to explain what kind of mission it was?"

"I do not."

Good grief.

You cannot just simplify it like that!

And if he does not tell me, there is no way I can employ him, right?

"If you are unwilling to speak, then please leave."

Lancelot was taken or aback.

I looked into his eyes, and for a split second, I clearly saw the unwilling and the humiliation within them.

He pondered for a moment, then turned to leave without the slightest hesitation.

It seemed he had no intention of speaking.

Fine, go then. Although they say the sea is vast because it accepts all rivers, one still has to be careful about what they let in.

If he is unwilling to even say this much, then no matter how broad-minded I am, I cannot take him in.

Unless I am an idiot!

Lancelot took a few steps toward the door before suddenly stopping. With his back to me, he asked a question.

"What exactly is it that you want to do?"

Me?

"In what regard? Myself? The Kingdom of the Moon? Or something else?"

"I only want to ask you: what is it that you truly want?"

He turned back, his gaze burning with a hint of inquiry.

What do I want?

I closed my eyes and took a long breath.

"Actually, what I want is very simple: peace and happiness. Does that answer satisfy you?"

"Only your own peace and happiness?"

"No. I want the people around me, the people of Brilliant City, and everyone in the Kingdom of the Moon to be able to live in peace and happiness."

I stared at Lancelot. I did not know the purpose of his question, but perhaps this would change his mind.

Of course, both the one offering loyalty and the one receiving it test each other.

Only when both feel the other is worthy will they move to the next step.

Everything is a mutual decision, not a one-sided one.

"Do I... count as a person of the Kingdom of the Moon?"

He murmured to himself, as if asking himself, or perhaps asking me.

I looked at him and said calmly.

"All subjects within the territory of my Kingdom of the Moon are my people, regardless of race, gender, or age."

It seemed these words moved him. His body trembled slightly, and then he suddenly turned around and knelt on one knee.

In a raspy voice... he told a knight's story.

"I was once a Brave Knight of the Holy See. Twenty years ago, the Beastmen Empire launched a massive invasion. The Snow Country was unable to deal with the million-strong army and sought help from the Holy See."

"That year, I was thirty-four years old. Filled with faith in the Holy Church, I volunteered for that war. However, when I saw the war with my own eyes, I regretted it."

"Were you afraid?" Hilda asked. But Lancelot shook his head.

"I do not fear battle, and I certainly do not fear facing the strong. As a Temple Knight and a warrior, fighting the strong is my honor and my fortune."

"Then why did things end up like this?"

Hilda asked sternly. Lancelot pondered for a moment before suddenly turning to look at her.

"Sir Guardian Knight, may I ask you a question? Can you answer me truthfully?"

Hilda's brow furrowed slightly, but she did not speak, which was a silent consent.

Lancelot asked expressionlessly:

"If one day, foreigners sought to conquer the Eight Nations of the Holy Church, would you... volunteer to strike back?"

"Of course!"

Hilda stepped forward, responding proudly.

"Then, when you stand on the battlefield with millions of enemies before you, would you... have the courage to charge?"

"That goes without saying! As a knight, it is my duty!" Hilda answered Lancelot loudly.

Lancelot nodded.

"I can see that your loyalty to the Saintess is absolute. Even though your strength is inferior to mine, you dare to risk your life to stand before Her Highness."

His voice echoed in the hall. I quietly listened to the dialogue between the two.

"But if one day, the Saintess you serve ordered you to raise your sword against a newborn infant and a defenseless mother... would you choose to remain loyal, or would you refuse the order?"

The moment those words were spoken, everyone froze.

Except for me.

Lancelot's question was a choice that could drive any Temple Knight to madness.

At this point, I vaguely guessed Lancelot's answer.

"I suppose you have no answer. But... I do."

Lancelot turned back, his gaze meeting mine directly.

"Back then, the Third Holy Knight Regiment I belonged to was ordered to flank and encircle the army of the Beastmen Empire."

"The archbishop's order was simple: kill every beastman who saw the army. Not a single piece of information was to be leaked."

"That day, it was my knight squad's turn to eliminate the enemies. But when I saw the enemy, the sword in my hand felt as heavy as ten thousand tons."

At this point, Lancelot's calm, raspy voice began to tremble slightly.

The helplessness and sorrow in his voice were palpable.

"Even today, I still remember the look in that female half-beast's eyes. Resentment, despair, hope, and hatred. She crawled up from her bed and walked to me."

"She handed me a baby that was still covered in blood. And she... immediately collapsed in a pool of blood."

Lancelot took a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm his emotions.

"My companion killed her. Before the woman died, she just looked at me peacefully. With the last of her strength, she said one thing: 'Please, spare her.'"

"At the time, I refused my companion's suggestion to kill the child. I carried the half-beast infant back to the main camp, intending to secretly leave the child for a passing beastman tribe. But unexpectedly, I ran into the archbishop. Heh... life is full of such coincidences."

Lancelot turned back to look at Hilda.

"My choice then was to refuse the order. The archbishop stripped me of my knight title and executed the infant right in front of me. I resisted. This scar was the price."

He looked up at me.

"This is the story you wanted to hear—my story."