NoveLight ™
Rustle, rustle.
A man scribbled on an old parchment.
Although modern tools like fountain pens and various ballpoint pens were readily available, he still wrote with a quill made from a bird's feather.
The elegance of his handwriting and the absence of ink smudges indicated his familiarity with the quill.
[When the 10th Angel following the Light proclaimed to bear all the sins of this world, the angel still sought to save as many as possible at the gates of Hell-.]
Squelch!
"……."
The hand that had been writing passages from the scripture halted abruptly, causing the ink to smudge. The man furrowed his brows.
This was a rare occurrence.
Anyone familiar with the man would tilt their head in puzzlement. After all, he was known for his stoic demeanor, rarely showing emotional fluctuations.
Thus,
"…Is this what the monks call ‘agitation’?"
He realized that something within him was amiss.
His chest stirred with unease, a feeling so unfamiliar it unsettled him.
It was the first time he had felt such restlessness.
Gripping the quill tightly, he pondered the source of this turmoil.
Perhaps if he sat like this for a while, the answer would come to him…
"Pierre, prepare yourself."
"…What insolence is this?"
Deep in thought, trying to calm the storm within him, he was interrupted by a colleague.
His sharp gaze turned frosty as he glared at the one who dared disturb his introspection.
He was displeased not only by the intrusion but also by the blatant disregard for his mood.
"Insolence or not, get ready. We’ll strike swiftly."
"……."
"If even half of the information about that knight is true, his strength is at least equivalent to that of a knight commander. We’ll need to overwhelm him in one decisive move."
"…Didn’t the Cardinal explicitly instruct us not to cause a commotion?"
"He did. That’s why we’ll finish it quickly and without fuss."
"…Have you been waiting for the Cardinal to leave?"
"A mere coincidence."
"……."
…He wasn’t naive or foolish enough to believe that lie.
Pierre questioned whether he should defy Cardinal Raphael’s orders for the sake of these people.
"Remember, this is heresy. Interrogating those who defy the Light is our duty."
"……."
Yet, Pierre still hesitated.
Was this truly the right thing to do?
Was following this man’s words truly in accordance with the will of the Light?
As he swallowed his endless doubts—
"How long do you think the Cardinal will shield you? Remember, secrets do not last forever."
"……."
"If you understand, act now."
"…Understood."
He no longer resisted.
No, he couldn’t.
Though his agitation made him hesitate—
‘Losing the ability to serve the Light would be unthinkable.’
If his secret were revealed, he would no longer have a place in the temple.
Thus—
‘…I have no choice.’
He rationalized his actions to himself.
He knew it was cowardly, yet he…
"Cowardice and rationalization aren’t inherently bad. After all, humans can’t always be brave or wise creatures."
"…That’s a biased statement…"
A faint protest.
But Ihan shook his head.
"You just haven’t seen enough of the world. Someday, if you get the chance, visit a gambling den or the back alleys. You’ll see the depths of humanity."
"……."
"Anyway, what I’m trying to say is this. Demian, it’s true that people can be a little cowardly and less than brave. But…"
"……."
"When an ‘arrogant’ ‘noble-born brat’ of a ‘trainee’ lazes around and rationalizes it, that’s a sin."
"…Damn it, how many adjectives do you need to string together?!"
"Watch your language."
Demian’s eyes brimmed with tears.
‘Is this fair?’
Was it truly fair to be treated this way just because he took a short nap and didn’t pull enough weeds in the field?
No, before that—
"I have the right to rest too! Trainees are people too!!"
Shouting out his frustration and grievances, Demian vented his unjust treatment. Ihan, watching him silently, eventually replied:
"Trainees are people. But you’re not just any trainee; you’re an ‘arrogant noble-born brat’ trainee. That makes you less than a person."
"!!!?"
"You don’t get to rest. You’ve got another two years and five months to go. If you’re expecting to be treated like a person, the problem is with your conscience."
"Can you stop with your noble-hating obsession already, you crazy man?!"
Thwack!
"Argh!!"
"Where does a servant—no, a trainee—get off talking back to their instructor?"
"…You bastard."
"Getting more foul-mouthed, are we?"
"……."
"Are you crying?"
"……."
"Yep, you’re crying. Go ahead, cry it out. You’ll feel better after. And once you feel better, you can work even harder."
"…Sniff!"
"Look at this guy…?"
…Ihan clicked his tongue, marveling at how this obstinate fool tried to faint just to get a break.
+++++
A Rare Moment of Solitude
The trainee had fainted, and the maid had gone to visit her elder sister, leaving Ihan with an unusually quiet afternoon all to himself.
Though he had a rare opportunity to relax and enjoy his own company, Ihan didn't deviate from his routine.
He went through his day as usual—training after work, then having his meal.
His day-to-day life remained unchanging.
“Hmm, what should I do for next semester?”
The only addition to his usual routine was planning for the academy's schedule.
He had intended to discuss the curriculum with his trainee, but the boy had been sleeping for the past thirty minutes, utterly exhausted.
A combination of mental shock and fatigue seemed to have knocked him out.
“That damn brat. These kids these days are too soft—growing up pampered like this.”
Ihan frowned, clearly displeased.
The boy twitched slightly as if reacting to a bad dream, but Ihan ignored him and turned his attention to the chalkboard where he had jotted down the plans for the next semester.
Class Plans
“Hmm,” Ihan muttered as he reviewed the detailed notes.
For a brief moment, he wondered if he was going too far.
“But then again, maybe fighting criminals isn’t the best idea.”
He debated whether it might be better to bring a few bears or tigers for bare-handed combat practice instead.
No matter how promising they were, it felt wrong to taint their young hands with the filth of vile criminals.
“Sigh, have I gone soft?”
He worried that he might be coddling his first batch of trainees, raising them like greenhouse flowers.
"What do you think?"
“…Are you asking me?”
“Who else would I ask?”
“…First, I’d recommend scrapping the no-sleep five- or ten-day challenge. That could end very badly.”
“?”
“…Those poor cadets.”
The man—one of the inquisitor-priests—shuddered.
Beads of Sweat
A cold sweat trickled down his back, not because of the plans written on the chalkboard but for another reason entirely.
‘…He knew I was here all along?’
He had heard the rumors—
That the Sacred Concealment Technique didn’t work on this knight.
He had dismissed it as exaggeration or coincidence.
His faith in the [Sacred Technique] was unshakable.
‘The technique should render me completely undetectable, blending with the environment….’
But the moment he realized the knight had truly seen through it, he couldn’t hide his shock.
The fact that the knight could pierce through the Sacred Technique suggested his senses were on par with a wild beast's.
Just as the inquisitor-priest heightened his guard—
"So many of you. Nine… No, eleven, counting the one trying to snipe me?"
“!?!!”
“Wow, you guys are really going all out, huh? Waiting until Raphael is away to pull this? Impressive, in a way.”
“…….”
…This knight was dangerous.
The inquisitor-priest clenched his teeth, eyes sharp, assuming a combat stance.
“Ihan Turtle of the White Lion Order. You stand accused of heresy.”
“Why?”
“…You appeared out of nowhere and started achieving remarkable feats.”
“??”
“Phew…”
The inquisitor-priest took a deep breath, trying to keep the knight’s attention on him.
The Accusations
“After joining the White Lion Order, you were an unremarkable foot soldier. Yet after becoming an instructor at the academy, you suddenly began racking up numerous accomplishments, most of which involve [heretics]. And there’s evidence placing you near the site of a tunnel collapse just the other day.”
It was suspicious—an ordinary knight suddenly amassing achievements in such a short time, with circumstances that were too coincidental.
From the temple’s perspective, it was only natural to be suspicious.
They wondered if this knight might be colluding with heretical forces to fabricate his accomplishments.
It was a reasonable inference.
“If you wish to clear yourself of these accusations, surrender and allow us to bind you. Cooperate, and we promise not to be excessive—”
"Yeah, I think I’ve heard enough nonsense, don’t you?"
“!!!”
Crunch!
When had he moved?
Before the inquisitor-priest could react, Ihan was already in front of him, delivering a punch.
No—“punch” wasn’t the right word.
It was more like a light tap on the center of his chest.
"Ugh… Kugh…!! H-Huh…?!"
The priest’s breath hitched, his body convulsing as searing pain engulfed him.
No—it wasn’t just pain.
Snap! Crack!
His body was literally tearing apart.
“This is what we call dislocating muscles and crushing bones. Stay like that for a while—I’ll be back soon.”
“…! …!!”
The knight’s calm declaration made blood vessels burst in the priest’s eyes, causing him to cry tears of blood.
His teeth cracked, but the pain was so excruciating he couldn’t even pass out.
He could only writhe silently, trembling.
"Wow, so I guess I’ve been treated quite humanely after all."
Meanwhile, the noble trainee, who had fainted earlier, regained consciousness just in time to witness the scene.
Still lying flat on the ground, he realized he’d been receiving rather “kind” treatment all along.
Watching the instructor leisurely stroll off, Demian thought to himself—
“…Are those inquisitor bastards insane?”
If they were going to show up, they should’ve brought the entire Holy Knights Order. What were they thinking, coming in such small numbers?
‘Maybe they just wanted to get to Avalon early?’
After all, life could be harsh these days. He almost understood.
Still—
‘Our instructor doesn’t kill people easily, but…’
─He does show them that life can be a living hell.
“…I ended up like that once, too, didn’t I?”
With the wisdom of a senior who had once dared challenge the knight and suffered for it, Demian clicked his tongue in sympathy.
He could already foresee what awaited them.
Thanks for the chapter