A holy nation torn half by force from the sacred kingdom of Quolia, and established as a new land of God by the holy maidens.
The Renea Holy Light Kingdom was brimming with a liveliness that made its former tranquility seem like a lie, wrapped in a bustle so raucous that one might furrow one's brow and call it somewhat lacking in decorum for a theocratic state.
One could simply say it had been reborn.
But to anyone who had only ever known the former Southern Provinces, it would have been nothing short of a bolt from the blue.
The man clad in that distinctive holy knight's sword and beautiful white-ornamented armor stood with his eyes wide, stunned by how much his hometown had changed after so long away.
"Well, well! Now there's a rare face I haven't seen in ages!"
Turning toward the cheerful voice that called from behind, the man looked over his shoulder.
A nation might have changed, but holy knights still commanded a certain authority, revered above common folk as they always had been.
Yet this particular man, who by his headstrong nature insisted on treating everyone as an equal, was utterly indifferent to such formalities—and consequently maintained a wide circle of acquaintances.
Those with political axes to grind did not hesitate to call him a thug playing at priesthood rather than a proper holy knight, but among certain segments of the populace his support ran deep.
It was only natural, then, that someone like this would call out to him, and the person he found upon turning was someone he knew well.
"Hm? Oh… it's you, the old potion-seller. Been a while, hasn't it?"
She was the proprietress of an apothecary he personally frequented, a middle-aged woman he had known since childhood. Beaming like a mother welcoming a son home after a long absence, she gave his hip a hearty smack.
Even at that somewhat rough treatment the man simply pulled a resigned face, though he clearly bore no real ill will, and the two exchanged warm greetings amid the bustle of the street.
"You haven't shown your face in ages. What have you been up to? Don't tell me you've been slacking off on the job again?"
"Will you quit it! I'm not a kid anymore—lay off that stuff. More importantly, what happened to this town? I don't sense a whiff of those sullen old fogeys. It's like a completely different country."
The man wasted no time voicing his question.
His manners were hardly befitting a holy knight, but the woman seemed entirely unbothered by it.
Quite the opposite—she looked as though she had been waiting for exactly this, and answered with a light, lively tone.
"What are you talking about? It's changed, changed, changed! The whole country's changed!"
"Hm? What do you mean? Ah, I was on a mission somewhere cut off from information. If you've got the time, fill me in."
"Sure, leave it to me! First of all…"
In the end, the man found himself stuck listening to the woman's long-winded tale—one that veered off on tangents at every other sentence—burning through far more time than he had expected. But he consoled himself with the fact that he had obtained the information he wanted.
Honestly, he was probably too stunned to have had the composure to care about such trivia in the first place.
"…Huh. So that's what happened. Seriously, I'm shocked. That's a big deal, isn't it?"
"It sure is! I don't know what you've been doing, but disappearing during a crisis like this—you really are a hopeless boy. Buck up and fulfill your duty as a holy knight!"
"Cut it out, cut it out. Saying I wasn't doing my job is outright slander. I've been working myself to the bone out there, exterminating the forces of evil. If I didn't know about any of this, that just means it's all part of the great God's plan."
As he waved his hand and cracked jokes, people gradually began to gather around him.
Every last one of them was a citizen with a long history of affection and respect for him.
Looks like they're not letting me go anytime soon, the man judged, and proceeded to return the successive greetings of the townspeople with his usual casual indifference.
"Well, all the same. It's good to see you again after all this time. You've always been nothing but a troublemaker. I've been worried sick lately wondering whether you'd gone and gotten yourself killed trying to save somebody somewhere. But it seems God hasn't abandoned you—or us—after all."
The potion-seller gave voice to what everyone had been thinking.
Her lined face radiated genuine relief, and at the same time overflowed with joy at reuniting with him.
Yes—with him. With the man whose whereabouts had been unknown for so long.
"Welcome back. Our pride, Senior Holy Knight Verdel."
Welcomed by the people with not a trace of malice or ill intent, Verdel broke into a broad grin and sheepishly returned the greeting: "I'm home."
◇ ◇ ◇
Holy Knight Verdel arrived at the headquarters of the old Southern Province Holy Knight Order at a time when the sun had climbed high and the people were settling in for their midday meal.
The building, situated a short distance from the Grand Cathedral, was in Verdel's recollection a modest, spartan facility that housed the holy knights' training grounds, single-person quarters, cells for criminals, and interrogation rooms.
But now the place bustled with numerous knights and what appeared to be civilian contractors coming and going, and the mess hall where knights once took their meals was piled high with documents of every variety, resembling the office of a major trading company.
A priest whom Verdel knew by face and name—though the two were not close—muttered to himself before a stack of papers with a ghostly expression, when suddenly a page, probably an apprentice knight, burst in looking pale as a sheet: "Another brawl between drunks has broken out!"
At that, a junior holy knight who had been lying flat on the floor moments ago lurched upright and strode outside with a grim, fierce expression.
The sheer chaos of it—the kind of frantic urgency one might expect on the eve of war—drew even a weary "Ugh…" from Verdel. Trying not to be in anyone's way, he made his way to what had once been his favorite seat.
Occupying that seat was a holy knight larger than the average man, distinguished by his closely cropped hair.
He wore the same bone-deep exhaustion as everyone else around him. Verdel gave a wry smile, and without so much as a care for the fact that the man was busy scribbling furiously across documents with a pen, clapped him hard on the shoulder.
"Hey, hey—what's with that face? You look like a walking corpse, Holy Knight Thomas."
"Shut it. I haven't slept in how many—"
The middle holy knight called Thomas raised his dark-circled, sickly face, and then—his expression a volatile mix of shock and elation—he let out a shout.
"Verdel! If it isn't my old friend Verdel! No word, no warning… this guy!"
His earlier exhaustion was nowhere to be seen as Thomas launched himself up from his chair with enough force to send it skidding, spread his arms wide, and embraced Verdel with tears threatening to fall, celebrating his return.
The ease of that gesture spoke volumes about the relationship between the two men. In truth, they had weathered countless dangerous missions together and survived—comrades-in-arms in every sense.
Verdel's response to even this comrade was characteristically himself. If anything, as though thoroughly tired of this kind of exchange, he shoved Thomas's embrace aside.
"Quit bawling! And let go of me, will you? You're just as suffocating as ever. More importantly, you got a minute?"
The commotion had drawn attention. Gazes from the other holy knights piercing the two of them.
They looked mildly surprised, but unlike Thomas, they did not make an exaggerated show of it—because they belonged to a different faction.
In the sacred kingdom of Quolia, centuries of uninterrupted peace had given rise to factions both large and small, each keeping the others in check. Here in Renea, where the holy maiden had given birth to a new nation, that history had regrettably carried over. Open confrontation was avoided, but the various groups still measured one another warily.
That was how things stood. Few were willing to actively engage a troublemaker like Verdel, born of the prejudices they harbored from the past, and fewer still understood the righteous heart hidden within him.
In that regard, Holy Knight Thomas had long been a rare confidant of Verdel's—a true companion.
And that was precisely why certain conversations could only happen with him.
"Time? I'm on break right now, actually. …What, something you can't talk about here?"
"Pretty much. See all those scary people glaring daggers at me over there? They keep telling me to keep it down. I'd rather have this conversation somewhere we won't be interrupted."
At those words, Thomas furrowed his brows.
Factions or not, the Holy Knight Order was bound together by strong bonds under their shared faith in God.
They might clash over political positions or vested interests, but at their core they all faced the same direction. Each had their own circumstances, yet before evil they would always join hands. That was the Holy Knight Order as Thomas knew it, and the way of a faithful follower of the Holy God Alos.
And yet Verdel's manner carried something vaguely evasive.
Surely it wasn't another mess? If so, what on earth had he done this time? Thomas turned a suspicious gaze upon his friend.
"Come on, don't give me that scary face. It's nothing that serious. Oh, and keep it quiet around Fjord for now, will you? I'd rather dodge the lecture until I've had a chance to rest up from the journey."
"Huh. You still haven't reported to Holy Knight Commander Fjord? Really, for someone like you to hold the rank of senior holy knight—the world is a strange place."
"Well, I guess that's what you get for consistent good behavior. Anyway, I'll be waiting outside."
Watching Verdel leave with a casual wave, Thomas heaved a deep sigh. He then informed one of the holy knights who had been observing from a distance that he was heading out, intending to take a slightly belated lunch break.
…...
……
…
Thomas was led to a house tucked away in a corner of town.
It was the sort of dwelling built for the less well-off—small and rough-hewn overall. If anything, it had sat vacant for several years; there was no structural damage to the pillars, but the place reeked of mildew and the dust was appalling.
He was half exasperated that his friend—whose talents were so thoroughly unsuited to a holy knight's life—was just as adept at finding these kinds of places as ever.
Whether or not he was aware of Thomas's inner thoughts, Verdel's attention was focused elsewhere entirely.
"The Renea Holy Light Kingdom… The holy maiden certainly made a bold move."
"Yes. But this land has changed. Smiles have returned to many people's faces, and a great deal of wrongdoing has been set right."
Up until now, their conversation had revolved around relaying to Verdel the recent events in the Southern Province.
Much of it had been carried out in secret. Even among holy knights, a great deal of information had been kept classified, though they still possessed far more knowledge than the common folk.
Thomas had laid it all out for Verdel, who had been left behind by it all during his long mission, and the response had been, as mentioned, rather muted.
It seemed that while Verdel was surprised, he did not share their same sense of inspiration or joy.
"Wrongdoing… huh. Come to think of it, I noticed those old coots who were always nagging me were gone. If every one of them got slaughtered, that explains it."
"You could call it divine punishment. In truth, the priests closely associated with us all escaped unharmed. …Well, a few of them did seem to have drawn God's wrath."
"So the winds have shifted. I suppose no one dares oppose the words of the holy maiden who earned the feat of slaying the King of Ruin. After all, it's a mythic-tier accomplishment. Even the central authority wouldn't dare interfere."
Without so much as a thought for the accumulated dust, Verdel perched himself lightly on the table.
Thomas winced at the undignified posture, but knowing full well that lecturing the man would change nothing, he settled for a mild glare.
Verdel exaggeratedly cowered, as if to say "Oh, scary," and Thomas heaved another great sigh before steering the conversation back to his concern.
"The corrupt clergy have been properly sentenced, and now our faction is the mainstream. The wrongdoings we once had to swallow with bitter humiliation can be denounced openly at last. Justice is being served."
There was something almost fanatical in his eyes.
Verdel, who had known Thomas for so long, narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at that expression, then—careful not to let it show—shifted back into his usual air of breezy nonchalance.
"That said, Verdel. I understand the justice you carry inside you, but not everyone in this country feels the same. And the radiant holy maiden herself doesn't know you. If by some misfortune you were to face a holy judgment—could you not, just for once, moderate that attitude and be a bit more docile?"
"Hmm. But that really is just my personality…"
"What kind of response is that, Verdel? Get serious. I'm genuinely worried about you here."
"More to the point, Thomas. We've been talking about grim stuff this whole time, but were all those holy judgments decided by the holy maiden alone? I find that a little extreme."
A "holy judgment" was a fine-sounding term, but it was really just execution.
Verdel, for all his faults, was still a holy knight at heart. He had caused any number of incidents, but he had never once crossed that line.
In fact, historically the worst he'd received was a suspension and a stern lecture from his superiors or a priest.
To think that he himself might now face the threat of execution suggested the internal tensions were even more severe than they appeared.
"No… not the holy maiden alone. Commander Fjord and Erakino have been running around on her behalf. The two of them were probably the ones who made the harsh decisions."
"Hm? Who's Erakino? Doesn't ring a bell…"
"Erakino is… how shall I put it, a close friend of the radiant holy maiden. Or so I understand."
"A friend, huh. If memory serves, it would be unprecedented for the holy maid to take a friend."
"That's not something you have the right to say, of all people. In any case, many have now gathered under the radiant holy maiden Soarina and the veiled holy maiden Fenne. The relationship between the sacred kingdom and the Spirit Contract Alliance is still an unknown, but I'm sure they'll understand our feelings."
Seeing the broad outline take shape, Verdel organized the information in his head.
He did not know what sort of people the radiant holy maiden and the veiled holy maiden were, but he was well aware that they had sacrificed something to God in exchange for their miracles.
That was why they were mentally unstable in certain respects.
Whatever they had become fixated on at the cost of that sacrifice was probably the driving force behind this founding of a new nation.
"If you asked them, the Diary Holy Maiden might also—"
"Drop it. I have no face to show her."
"I see… I'm sorry."
While the image of a girl he hadn't seen in a long time floated through his mind, Verdel gave a small click of his tongue.
It was all, in the end, a closed chapter.
"Hey, Verdel. We're going to change this country starting now. Remember what we talked about when we snuck out of the barracks as apprentice knights and had our drink at that tavern?"
"Yeah. Good times. We were young back then."
"I haven't forgotten the vow we made back then. For the people, for a world where no one has to grieve—I, as a holy knight, will fulfill my duty before God."
Memories of the past streamed through his mind like scenes from a dying man's reel.
He had believed in God, believed in people, believed in himself, and had run headlong forward.
It was all, in the end, a closed chapter.
"What about you, Verdel? Has that vow from back then changed? Does the sword you dedicated to the people still hold its shine?"
"Of course it does. Don't ask stupid questions. My sword's gleam and my faith in God are as sharp as ever. Well, you probably can't tell from looking at me."
Yes, the faith was there. The vow was there.
It was all, in the end, a story of the past.
"Oh, right—you said you had something to talk about. Sorry it took so long, but what is it? I'll even go and bow to Commander Fjord with you if you need."
After all the serious talk, Thomas rolled his shoulders and, as if struck by an idea, walked over to the window.
Perhaps because it hadn't been used in so long, the wooden frame had stiffened; it squeaked open with a grating sound as he peered outside.
He was checking the time by the position of the sun.
And from behind him…
"Ah, that's right. It's simple, actually."
"Simple? Then we could have skipped this whole thing and talked somewhere else, Verdel—gahh!!"
Verdel drove his holy knight's sword through him.
"Wh—what… did you…"
Thomas stared down at the blade protruding from his abdomen with a look of utter disbelief.
But his training as a holy knight moved his body on instinct. Even as he teetered on the edge of consciousness from the searing pain, he pulled the blade free, desperately created distance, and turned to face his attacker.
There stood his old companion, the man who had shared joy and hardship with him through the years.
Without a doubt, there was no mistaking him: Senior Holy Knight Verdel.
"Why…"
"Because it's all… over."
There was not a shred of emotion in those final words. In the next instant, the blood-red holy knight's sword was swung in a clean arc.
Those cold eyes that gazed down upon him never changed until Thomas's consciousness was dragged into the abyss of eternal darkness.
◇ ◇ ◇
The holy knights' garrison was, as always, overflowing with wretched souls buried under work.
A senior holy knight who had been racking his brain over where to scrape together additional funds for a critically short unit budget spotted a familiar figure at the entrance and called out.
"Oh, you're back. …Wait—just you?"
He had assumed the two of them would return together, but apparently not.
He was curious about what those two had been whispering about, but he knew better than to meddle in another faction's affairs and cause trouble, so he let it go.
The other man didn't seem inclined to say anything either, simply nodding in silence, so that was that.
"Well, fine. Work is piled sky-high. I trust you had a good break seeing him again. Let's keep at it."
The task before them, then, was to tackle the work at hand. Sadly, these documents had a habit of multiplying if left unattended, so prompt attention was required.
The senior holy knight remembered that even more work had accumulated during his absence and picked up a bundle of documents, raising his head.
"Oh, right. Sorry, but there's been another addition to the pile. Could you handle that too?"
Handing over the documents with an apologetic look for having dragged the other man all the way back here for this.
He felt bad about it, but there was nothing to be done.
In lieu of anything else, he would at least offer his thanks.
"Thank you. Holy Knight Thomas."
The senior holy knight spoke those words toward the man returning to his own desk.