Inside the knights’ barracks, in the commander’s office.
Usher sat across from Sir Whale, sipping tea.
As he looked up at him, memories of their first meeting surfaced.
Since his early days joining the Order, Sir Whale had been the Commander of the Holy Knights.
He was a man with a clear sense of duty towards his work and was earnest about training the next generation.
Under his guidance, Usher learned holy incantations and the combat techniques of the holy knights.
Recalling those days, the first memory that came to mind was rather amusing.
– “Is that all you’ve got? Stand up!”
Initially, Sir Whale disapproved of Usher’s intent to join the Order just to become the Saintess’s bodyguard and doubled his training load. He personally supervised and reprimanded him.
But Usher endured it all.
While others saw him as a naive boy chasing after a woman, Usher’s resolve was genuine.
He believed that if he became someone worthy of respect, that would suffice.
One day, during this relentless training, it was surprisingly Sir Whale—the one who disliked him the most—who first acknowledged him.
“…Impressive.”
Those were the words Sir Whale had said when Usher was promoted to the prestigious rank of First-Class Holy Knight. The memory of that day and the pride it brought remained vivid within Usher.
When Sir Whale later recommended him as the next Commander of the Holy Knights, that acknowledgment brought Usher a thrill of happiness.
In truth, there were times he wondered:
If he hadn’t chosen the path of a bodyguard, might he now be traversing the continent alongside Sir Whale?
Eradicating heretics, protecting the people, perhaps feeling a sense of fulfillment?
However, even if he could go back, Usher’s choice would still be the position of bodyguard.
As these memories resurfaced, they filled him with warmth, though they didn’t erase his tension.
‘W-what do I do now…?’
A cold sweat trickled down Usher’s back.
He feared that Sir Whale might be eyeing his recent change in behavior with suspicion. Perhaps, seeing Bersia struggling to keep up in training, he was even considering stripping him of his position.
After all, Sir Whale’s nickname was “The Mustached Guillotine.”
Known for his strictness in public matters, he was a man who, despite personal feelings, spoke with cold rationality.
People joked that his words were so sharp they called the mustache above his lips a guillotine.
He was a man who wouldn’t grant positions to the unworthy, and the thought of how he might view the current Bersia was far too clear.
Usher had to find a way to get through this.
He had to sneak Bersia out of the barracks.
While these thoughts raced through his mind, Sir Whale spoke.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had a conversation like this.”
“…Yes!”
“How is Sir Trevion performing his duties?”
In that moment, Usher’s eyes sparkled.
He saw this as his chance to emphasize just how well he was fulfilling his role as a bodyguard.
“Yes! Of course! Sir Usher is…”
Referring to himself in the third person and praising himself wasn’t easy—it was practically self-praise.
But he couldn’t avoid it, so he continued, his face turning red with embarrassment.
Though Sir Whale’s eyes narrowed with each word, Usher didn’t notice.
“So, yes! Satisfied, satisfied!”
Usher blurted out his words and took a breath.
That should be enough, right?
Maybe he’d avoided being dismissed?
But the situation took a turn Usher hadn’t anticipated.
“…First, I apologize.”
“…!”
Sir Whale lowered his head.
Usher nearly jumped in surprise.
“P-please, lift your head!”
“No, I must say this apology first.”
Usher’s heart sank.
His gaze trembled like an aspen leaf.
“Huh…?”
“Today, I summoned Sir Trevion to participate in training. It was indeed an overstep on my part. There was something I needed to confirm.”
Thud!
His heart sank.
“His skills have declined. He couldn’t keep up with training, he would have once finished with a smile.”
Usher’s mind went blank.
He couldn’t utter a word and merely parted his lips.
Emotions surged within him, and foremost among them was guilt—the fear that he might have disappointed Sir Whale.
But he couldn’t just stand there, lost and speechless.
He needed an excuse, something to say. He couldn’t let himself grow distant from Bersia, who was now in his altered body.
Usher bit his lip, gathering his resolve to say something to prevent his dismissal.
It was in that moment that he spoke up.
“Th-that’s because…”
“Could you grant Sir Usher a training session, even just once a week?”
“…Huh?”
“He is a friend with a deep passion for training. He knows how to hold back, and his faith is deep. I’d like to give him that time.”
What is he saying?
As Usher puzzled over this, Sir Whale looked up with a smile Usher had never seen before—a sheepish, almost shy smile.
“Of course, his main duty is protection. Yes, I understand he must always be by the Saintess’s side whenever she wishes. He chose that path himself. So, this is my own selfish wish. That friend of mine is too modest to ask permission to take time for training. So… although it’s odd to ask on his behalf, I hope you’ll consider this favor.”
Usher was at a loss for words.
It wasn’t confusion.
In this moment, he realized that the reason Sir Whale had bowed his head was for him, out of sincere kindness that he hadn’t openly shown before. That heartfelt gesture moved Usher deeply.
“That’s…”
His voice trailed off.
Sir Whale bowed his head once more.
“Please, I ask this favor, Saintess.”
Usher fought to hold back his tears.
He struggled to steady himself amidst the overwhelming wave of emotion. It wasn’t easy.
“He is a cherished disciple to me. I have devoted my life in service to the Lord, so please honor this one request.”
“Oh…!”
“Hm…?”
Usher squeezed his eyes shut.
He covered his mouth and turned away, clenching his expression tightly to keep the swelling emotion at bay.
A cherished disciple!
What a profound, moving phrase!
‘Yes!’
The priestesses wouldn’t understand this! Only knights like Sir Whale, men who understood valor, would know!
As a man, a knight, and a comrade who had endured the same battles, the fact that he was acknowledged by his superior was overwhelmingly touching.
He had to hide his expression.
With that thought, Usher abruptly stood up and turned around. Somehow, he managed to mutter,
“…Of course.”
“Thank you!”
“I-I’ll be going now.”
And with that, he quickly left the room.
Wouldn’t it be alright to take a moment to praise himself today as he reflected on his life?
The sense of emptiness he’d felt before coming here had disappeared as if washed away, and now Usher’s heart was filled with a sense of fulfillment.
So much so that he didn’t even realize his own mistake.
“So, I’m supposed to go out and train once a week?”
Usher couldn’t bring himself to look at Bersia and nervously shifted his eyes.
His trembling body resembled a herbivore facing a predator.
“Do I have to go through something that hard?”
“……”
“Ah, my head’s starting to burn.”
Sighing, the somewhat menacing Bersia stretched Usher’s cheek.
Usher shut his eyes tight and answered,
“Sh-sorry…!”
It was karma.
Sir Whale—or Herbert, as his given name was now more familiar than his title—sipped tea as he looked down at the barracks through the window.
He recalled his recent encounter with Bersia.
From the first moment, it had been the same.
How displeased Bersia looked as she observed the priestesses who often stole glances at Usher.
How uneasy her eyes had been as she constantly glanced at Usher and the priestesses, especially when suggesting they speak somewhere more private.
And not only that.
Whenever he praised Usher, Bersia’s face flushed with joy.
When he mentioned giving Usher time for training, she scowled and trembled with frustration.
In the end, she granted permission, though that was likely because of the weight of Herbert’s words.
‘Was she always like this?’
Herbert thought of Bersia, whom he had known for his entire life.
She had always worn an empty smile, wiping away any trace of emotion as if she was weary of the world.
It was surprising to see such a change in someone like her.
His only concern was that this change was caused by Usher.
“……”
But he had years of experience. Herbert couldn’t miss the underlying emotion within Bersia’s transformation.
Perhaps it was something close to a maiden’s pure affection.
This hunch, nearly certain, left him somewhat worried.
He’d seen seven Saintesses in his lifetime.
Even the most gentle among them had, over time, absorbed the environment crafted by the Order, unknowingly adopting a self-centered worldview.
‘Selfish love is a kind of violence.’
The thought that such violence could one day harm Usher lingered in his mind.
Of course, he trusted Usher.
As much as he wanted to strip Usher of his position and promote him to the next Commander of the Holy Knights, he chose restraint out of respect for Usher’s will.
Herbert closed his eyes.
‘I will give him a moment to breathe.’
He prayed that this training time could be a respite for him.
With a short prayer, he offered his hopes to the Lord.