Clatter.
A small stone skipped across the courtyard, its sharp sound cutting through the air.
“Again?” Sitting in his garden, enjoying a rare moment of peace with a book, Green rolled his eyes. “How many groups does that make today?”
“Master…” A maid approached him, her voice trembling slightly. “The outside wall…”
“More graffiti?” Green said, already standing up. “The usual routine—just wash it off with water.”
He dragged his weary body to the gate and pushed it open. As expected, the stone wall was splattered with pungent dog’s blood. Crooked, jagged letters screamed: Liar!, Hand over the cultist’s daughter!, You aren’t fit to be Commander!
Having lost the protection of the Holy Light, Green had, in the eyes of the masses, lost the divine right to hold his office.
“Hmph, I underestimated the Consul’s pettiness.” Green picked up a rag, dipped it in water, and began meticulously scrubbing the twisted words.
Cough, cough!
He let out a series of rough coughs. “To have the guts to protest in the Upper District… it seems Lawrence’s reforms really are empowering the people.”
It was ironic. As the former iron-faced Inspector and Lawrence’s closest ally, Green’s true enemies were the wealthy elite—the Council and the Senate. Yet, ever since the scandal broke that he could no longer sense the Light, the ones screaming the loudest and vandalizing his home were the bottom-tier fanatics he had spent his life protecting.
The “great men” of the city likely sat in their parlors mocking him, but they maintained their “decency.” Though Green would bet his life that many of these “fanatics” were either paid agitators or the elites’ own men in disguise.
“Godfather!”
Before Green could finish cleaning, a figure blurred toward him.
“Ah, Alice.” Green set the rag down. “Did they reach a decision?”
Alice didn’t answer. She stared at the foul-smelling wall, her eyes locked onto the insults. Her entire body began to shake with a violent, suppressed rage.
“How dare they… how dare they…” Her voice was low, dripping with a killing intent so thick it felt like an abyss. Her beautiful face contorted into something terrifying.
“Pay them no mind,” Green said softly, trying to soothe her. “People are often blinded by prejudice.”
Alice didn’t respond. She stared at the wall as if she wanted to burn the very stones with her gaze. But she held back.
“Alice!” Seeing her instability, Green reached out and brushed her hair, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. “Don’t be angry. I asked you—the Council and the Archbishop—what was the verdict?”
“Temporary suspension.”
Under Green’s touch, Alice’s breathing slowed, but the vibrant, driven light in her eyes was gone. It was replaced by a coldness that defied description.
Green felt a pang of heartache.
“They didn’t strip me of the Inspectorate immediately?” Green mused. “I wonder what magic Lawrence worked to manage that…”
“Godfather,” Alice interrupted. “I… I don’t want to be a Paladin anymore.”
She violently unfastened her white cloak—the garment she once cherished above all else, the symbol of the Light—and cast it aside.
“Why?” Green watched the white fabric flutter in the wind before landing in the mud. He walked over, picked it up, and began wiping the grime off with his rag.
“They don’t deserve it,” Alice said coldly. “Those people… those bottom-dwelling dregs who don’t know the truth… they don’t deserve your protection!”
Her voice grew more hysterical. “Archbishop Lawrence told me. He said he proposed to the Council that if I were stripped of my rank and ‘dealt with,’ your position would be safe. Why…”
She began to sob, her strong facade crumbling into incoherent whispers. “Why won’t you just agree to it?”
That meddling old fool Lawrence is causing me trouble again, Green thought, rolling his eyes inwardly.
“Godfather, I know you believe in the Way of the Light, but I’m begging you—stop trying to save everyone else while ignoring yourself!” Alice’s eyes were bloodshot. She looked at the man who had raised her from a starving slum girl to a Paladin.
Why was he like this? Why did he smile through the insults? Why did he give everything to people who offered nothing but betrayal in return?
The Way of the Light? A man who lived perfectly by its codes had lost its favor. What kind of “justice” was that?
“I never had the right to be a Paladin anyway,” Alice whispered, head bowed. “My birth parents were cultists. Instead of letting you suffer for the sake of my career, it’s better if…”
She grabbed the hilt of her sword—the Exorcism Blade she had treated like a holy relic. Now, it felt like a burning brand. “Just let me accept my fate. Please, Godfather? For once… think of yourself.”
Snap—
Alice gripped the blade, preparing to break it in half.
Hearing her mournful cry, Green offered a tired, fatherly smile. Before she could snap the steel, he stepped forward and pulled her into a firm embrace, just as he had when she was a child plagued by nightmares.
“I’m sorry, Alice. I can’t let you do that.” He spoke each word with quiet gravity. “I will not allow you to resign.”
“W-Why?” Alice asked, her heart breaking.
“Because, Alice, your parents weren’t cultists.” Green patted her back gently. “And Alice… touch your heart and think. Do you really want to stop being a Paladin?”
Alice looked lost.
“Silly girl. You’re crying.” Green held her tighter.
Who would want to be a Paladin?! Alice wanted to scream. It was a thankless, exhausting job that invited stabs in the back from the very people she served.
But as Green held her, memories flooded back. She saw herself in this courtyard, a small girl swinging a wooden sword under his watchful eye. She remembered her promise to his expectation: “Alice, you must become the light.”
She did want to be a Paladin. Not for the world, not for “justice,” but for the man who was her world.
“Yes, Godfather,” she murmured. She retrieved her sword and took the cloak Green had cleaned. A new, sharper smile touched her lips. “I will be a Paladin.”
If that is your wish, I will be the Light that guards you.
BOOM!!!
A sudden roar echoed from the distance. A pillar of flame erupted into the sky, followed by thick black smoke that blotted out the sun.
“That’s…” Green’s eyes sharpened as old memories resurfaced. “The Withered Cult…”
His expression turned grim. He reached for his sword, intending to head toward the explosion.
“Godfather!” Alice tried to stop him. “You’re under suspension! You aren’t a Paladin anymore!”
“No.” Green shook his head. “Alice, there isn’t much left I can teach you, but here is the final lesson: A true Paladin doesn’t need a decree from the Church or recognition from others. As long as you walk the path and protect the weak…”
“Then you are a Paladin.”
Ignoring his aging, aching body, Green charged toward the black smoke. Alice watched him for a heartbeat, her eyes flickering with a resolve fiercer than any holy fire.
Then, she followed.
I will be the Light, she thought. The Light that ensures you never have to walk into the darkness alone again.