Chapter 17: The Knighting Ceremony

Within the hallowed walls of the temple, black-robed nuns murmured in hushed excitement, their voices a soft ripple against the stone.

They aligned themselves in two neat rows, framing a wide aisle that stretched from the grand entrance to the heart of the sanctuary.

The bishop, called away on urgent matters, had left the knighting ceremony in the capable hands of Sharei, the third-level priestess whose authority was unmatched in his absence.

Chenxi, having secured a craftsman for her task, slipped back into the church just as the ceremony loomed.

In the courtyard, novice nuns bustled about their duties, while the formal sisters, summoned by Sharei’s decree, gathered in the temple, their eyes bright with anticipation for the enigmatic hero soon to grace their humble hall.

“It’s been ages since our church boasted a Guardian Knight,” one sister whispered.

“And to think, this one’s a hero moonlighting in the role!”

Chenxi, catching the fevered buzz, doused it with a wry smirk.

“Don’t let your dreams run wild. They call it ‘training,’ but let’s be honest—it’s just dabbling in our backwater. What kind of hero picks a speck of a church like ours for a side gig? Don’t expect a legend.”

Her words landed like a chill wind, and the nuns fervor dimmed, their shoulders sagging under the weight of doubt.

Tina, undeterred, puffed out her cheeks.

“Oh, Chenxi, don’t crush our spirits! Even a lackluster hero is still a hero, isn’t he? We’re just small-town nuns. Snag one of those, and we’re set for life—feasts and finery forever!”

She dissolved into a dreamy giggle, already picturing herself trailing some faceless hero to the glittering imperial capital, draped in silks and splendor.

Chenxi toyed with the blue tips of her hair, her voice thoughtful.

“You know, an old man in Wagner Town once told me our church had a Judgment Knight long ago. A woman, no less.”

In the church’s hierarchy, knights were ranked from loftiest to least: Judgment, Guardian, and Honor.

Beyond these, the grand headquarters held two higher tiers, but such matters were distant stars to this modest congregation.

A nun stationed at the temple’s threshold burst in, her face alight.

“He’s here! The hero’s here! By Afiya, he’s breathtaking!”

Silence fell like a curtain.

The sisters smoothed their skirts, tucked stray hairs, and straightened collars, their gazes fixed on the doorway, hearts fluttering in unison.

A black-haired youth strode in, his presence a beacon of light.

His smile, warm as a spring zephyr, wove through the room, kindling a quiet glow in every heart it touched.

His dark curls, wild as a lion’s mane, spilled over his shoulders, a long ponytail swaying behind him like a proud banner of dominion.

A billowing trench coat lent him a rakish air, its hem catching the breeze of his stride.

At his chest gleamed a sapphire, radiant as a captured star, etched with runes that whispered his name and deeds.

Lyte Montis, low-tier hero, bearer of the humble holy sword, Omen.

From the dais, Sharei’s keen eyes assessed him.

With a brisk wave, she beckoned.

“Step up, lad. Choose your charge—the one you’ll shield as Guardian Knight.”

“Very well,” Lyte replied, his smile curling with a hint of mischief.

The air grew thick, like a cauldron of rich broth simmering low, its bubbles rising and bursting in slow rhythm.

The nuns’ hearts danced to that same unsteady cadence, their hopes swelling and shattering with each passing second.

“He’s looking my way, isn’t he? Could he fancy me?” Tina squealed, her eyes sparkling as Lyte’s gaze drifted toward her, Chenxi, and Noi.

Chenxi rapped her knuckles on Tina’s head.

“Dream on. If anyone, it’d be Noi first, wouldn’t it?”

“Me? Never,” Noi scoffed, tossing her head.

“I don’t need some man playing protector.”

The sisters swooned, their sighs a soft chorus.

Even Noi, who once walked on the previous world , couldn’t deny Lyte’s allure.

In a modern city, he’d be a god among men—charismatic, flawless, the kind who turned heads without trying.

His features were carved perfection, his lips forever tilted in a disarming smile that invited trust.

He was impossible to dislike, or at the very least, impossible to resent.

Yet beneath the charm simmered a seasoned air, like a dashing uncle who’d seen the world’s edges.

The cool hues of his coat only deepened the enigma of his presence.

If Noi had to pin him to a flavor—her mind always wandered to food—she’d call him Buddha Jumps Over the Wall: a dish of such depth and richness, it demanded time to unravel its secrets.

But that was irrelevant.

Girls might tumble headlong for Lyte, but Noi, merely admired his polish.

With that thought, she met his gaze head-on, unflinching.

“Why would a hero come to a place like this?” she mused, the question blooming unbidden.

Tina, hands planted on her hips, grinned knowingly.

“Easy. Years of romance manga tell me he’s here for a girl!”

Chenxi rolled her eyes, knocking Tina’s head again, though her tone softened in agreement.

“She’s not wrong. Bet he stirred up trouble in the capital, couldn’t hack it, and now he’s fishing for a bride. We’re just one stop on his harem tour. If no one catches his eye, he’ll be off to another church by week’s end.”

Tina fiddled with her skirt, unbothered.

“A harem’s fine by me. Toss me some coin each day, and I’ll live like a queen. Easy.”

As Tina and Chenxi bantered, Lyte’s gaze roamed their corner, and Noi felt it—sharp, unwavering, fixed on her.

What’s his deal?

He can’t seriously like me.

The more she studied him, the more a nagging familiarity tugged at her.

That sapphire.

Those black curls, amber eyes, that easy smile.

The sleek, obsidian holy sword.

Her curiosity hardened into suspicion.

Memories stirred, fragments of a life before this one.

A concept trailer, glimpsed in the haze of her past life’s final moments, flickered to life.

The first figure to step forth was the hero of Song of the End, the mightiest of them all, named…

“Lyte Montis, have you chosen?” Sharei’s voice cut through.

That’s it—Lyte Montis!

Noi’s breath caught, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

Lyte’s gaze flicked to her, cold and piercing, laced with a venom that jolted her.

He stepped to Sharei’s side, his smile radiant as ever.

“Yes, I’ve chosen. May I announce?”

Sharei nodded, and Lyte’s voice rolled out, deliberate and smooth.

“My choice is…”

Why does he hate me?

We’ve never met, Noi thought, her mind racing as the moment stretched taut.

The trailer’s final scene surfaced.

The ultimate foe of Song of the End.

What was the name?

“Noi Verllich, don’t drift off,” Chenxi said, nudging her.

Noi lurched to her feet, her voice quaking.

“What?”

It hit her like a thunderclap.

She was Noi Verllich, the world-ending witch, the final boss of Song of the End.

In the tale’s climax, Lyte and his band of comrades and lovers struck her down, her life snuffed out in blood and ruin.

The nuns’ stares—congratulatory, envious, bitter—washed over her, leaving her unmoored.

Lyte’s eyes found hers, his smile a spring day’s warmth, pulling her from the tide of her dread.

But in an instant, it turned, plunging her into an abyss of icy confinement.

“Beautiful little angel,” he said, voice honeyed, “may I become your Guardian Knight?”

His smile bloomed, vivid as a flower from hell’s garden.

Pain clawed at her chest, her breath a ragged gasp.

That smile, so dazzling, drenched her in cold sweat.

“Noi, are you alright?” Chenxi asked, her brow creased as she noted Noi’s ashen face and trembling lips.

Tina rubbed Noi’s back.

“Geez, calm down! He’s just a low-tier hero. With your gifts, you’ll have him eating from your hand in no time.”

Low-tier hero?

Was he?

Noi’s eyes met Lyte’s again.

He stood on the dais, his patient smile a mask, waiting for the white-haired girl to join him.

But the frost in his gaze sealed her resolve.

She had to flee.

“Noi! Where are you going?” Tina called, lunging to grab her as Noi bolted for the temple’s exit.

She was too quick, slipping through the crowd and into the open air.

The weight of Lyte’s stare had sparked a vision, vivid and cruel.

In a shadowed room, Lyte loomed, his smile a veneer over madness.

He tormented her with unspeakable horrors, his gloved hand forcing her head into a bucket of water.

Through the rippling surface, she glimpsed his frenzied snarl.

“This is your fate for ruining the world!”

His voice, raw with fury, echoed in her mind.

“Stop, Noi.”

A voice rang out behind her, sharp and unyielding.