Rowan could not understand how he had been defeated so quickly, so completely. His cheek pressed against the cold stone pavement, and he felt as though all the warmth was being drained from his body. He tried to struggle, but the hand pinning the back of his head held a crushing force that left him in despair.
What kind of monster is this?
“Apologize,” Nolan’s voice came from above.
Rowan clenched his teeth until they rattled. The humiliation burned so fiercely it nearly drove him mad. “In your dreams…”
Bang!
His head was yanked up and slammed down again. His face struck the ground hard, and the metallic tang of blood filled his nose.
“Do you not understand plain speech?” Nolan’s tone turned cold. “I told you to apologize to the heroes you insulted.”
It was not as if Rowan had not tried to resist. He struggled again and again, shifting his strength from different angles in a desperate attempt to break free. After several futile attempts, he finally gave up.
The gap was simply too great. Whether in strength or technique, there was no chance of turning things around. He knew that if he continued to resist, this so-called “crude mercenary” might truly crush his skull into the ground.
“Sorry…” he forced out through clenched teeth, his voice slurred. “It was my fault…”
“And what exactly was your fault?” Nolan applied a bit more pressure. “Be specific. I don’t want you making the same mistake again.”
Rowan’s entire body trembled as his mental defenses collapsed. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have insulted those brave warriors. I’m trash. I’m the useless one!”
A flicker of pity passed through Kayan’s eyes. Though Rowan had long since turned against him, they had once been close friends.
“Mr. Nolan,” Kayan said quietly, “he’s been punished enough. Please let him go.”
Nolan glanced at him, then nodded and released his grip.
Rowan collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air and greedily drawing in each breath of freedom. The oppressive force from moments ago had left him unable to even think of resisting. Only now did he realize just what kind of immovable wall he had run into.
Nolan and Hank sheathed their swords with clean, practiced motions.
Nolan walked over to Little Donnie and patted him on the shoulder with a smile. “That strike just now was good. You’re starting to think. That’s progress.”
“But you’re still too impulsive,” Hank added bluntly. “Charging in like a wild boar.”
Little Donnie grinned sheepishly and scratched his head.
Rowan had only just struggled to his feet when the heavy doors of the temple burst open once more.
“Kayan! What have you done this time?”
The blue-robed bishop from earlier came storming down the steps, led by the knight whose nose had been broken. His anger was unmistakable.
When he saw Rowan in such a wretched state and Nolan’s group standing calmly nearby, his fingers began to tremble with rage.
“You… you… how dare you! Colluding with outsiders to attack the captain of the Templar Knights. Are you trying to betray the faith?” His whole body shook as he pointed at Kayan and roared, “You heretic! You are expelled! From this day forward, you are no longer a priest of the Temple of the Mother Goddess. In my authority as Bishop of Veli City, I decree that if you dare come within half a step of this temple again, the Templar Knights may execute you on the spot!”
“Heh.”
A soft chuckle broke the tension.
Nolan stood with his arms crossed, tilting his head as he looked at the bishop. “Compared to the survival of the kingdom, is Your Excellency’s pride really that precious?”
“And what are you supposed to be?” the bishop snapped, his fury instantly redirected. “A crude mercenary, daring to lecture the temple?”
“Not just lecture,” Nolan laughed. “I also act.”
The bishop glanced at Rowan’s miserable condition and realized he was dealing with someone dangerous. He nearly choked on his anger, stammering without forming a complete sentence.
Kayan watched the enraged bishop in silence.
On one side stood hollow doctrine and arrogant prejudice. On the other stood those who took action to protect and uphold what was right.
In that moment, something within him became clear.
He stepped forward, placing himself in front of Nolan, facing the bishop’s wrath.
Then he did something that stunned everyone present.
Reaching up, he seized the red sash across his chest, the one embroidered with the golden sacred tree that marked his status as a priest, and tore it off with all his strength.
Rip!
The sash split apart. It felt as though he had torn away the shackles of the past several years. After a brief stab of pain, an unprecedented sense of freedom washed over him.
He let the torn sash fall at the bishop’s feet.
“For the past three years, thank you for your guidance.” After saying that, Kayan did not spare the bishop another glance. Ignoring the man’s face as it shifted from red to purple, he turned directly to Nolan. “Mr. Nolan, everyone, please come with me. I know a quiet place.”
He turned first, his back straight as a spear. Every step he took felt like a step toward a new life.
The bishop stared in shock at the dust-stained sash lying at his feet.
To cast aside the symbol of one’s office like that was the gravest insult a clergyman could commit. It was no different from renouncing his vows in public, rejecting everything he had once stood for.
The bishop’s lips trembled before he suddenly roared, “Seize him! Arrest that traitor to the faith!”
“…Forget it, Your Excellency.”
A hand rose to stop the guards just as they were about to charge forward. They froze in place, stunned. Nolan and the others, who had already tensed and reached for their weapons, relaxed their grips and walked away without hesitation.
It was Rowan. His face pale, he watched Kayan and the mercenaries grow more distant and said quietly, “He… he didn’t mean it like that. Expelling him is enough.”
In the distance, Kayan’s figure faltered for a brief moment.
But in the end, he neither turned back nor slowed his steps.
“This…” The bishop looked from the man blocking him to Kayan’s resolute back. His chest heaved several times before his hand dropped weakly to his side. “He… ah…”
He let out a long sigh and led his people back into the temple, his muttered “what a pity” faintly audible.
Only Rowan remained where he stood, unmoving. His gaze, filled with complicated emotions, followed Nolan’s group until even the sound of their carriage wheels faded around the corner.
***
Kayan led them to the northern district of Veli City. Far from the bustle of the commercial quarter, it was much quieter here.
At last, they stopped in front of a three-story red-brick house with a small garden.
Hank and Little Donnie secured the carriage. Anna went to tend to the horses, while Leus checked on their supplies.
Once everything was settled, they stepped into the courtyard. Small yellow flowers of an unknown kind dotted the open ground, and scattered around were stone weights of various sizes along with a thick iron bar polished smooth from frequent use.
“Those are what I use for training,” Kayan explained with a smile as he pushed open the door. “Come in. No need to take off your shoes. I’m not that particular.”
Nolan entered first.
The well-lit interior was even simpler than he had expected.
A clean wooden table stood in the center, with several thick religious tomes neatly arranged upon it. On the windowsill, two pots of blooming red flowers had been carefully tended, their layered petals adding the only splash of color to the otherwise plain room.
“Drast flowers,” Kayan said, following Nolan’s gaze. “They were the former archbishop’s favorite. He was a native of Veli. After he returned to the embrace of the Mother Goddess, he left this house to me.”
The calm and peaceful atmosphere stood in stark contrast to his bear-like physique, the crude training equipment in the yard, and the fearsome reputation he once carried as “Fervent Zeal”.
The others looked around as they entered.
“There’s not much furniture. Please excuse the lack of hospitality,” Kayan said, adjusting his glasses with a hint of embarrassment.
“It’s nothing. We’re used to sleeping rough. Having a roof over our heads is already more than enough,” Hank replied, waving it off. Without ceremony, he sat down on the clean floor and pulled out a cigar and a box of matches. “Mind if I smoke, Father?”
Anna frowned and nudged him. “Cut back a little.”
Hank, who was usually blunt and unrestrained, fell silent under his daughter’s rebuke.
“Go ahead.” Kayan smiled at their interaction and gestured casually, then sat down cross-legged on the floor himself.
The others followed suit, forming a circle as the atmosphere gradually relaxed.
Once everyone had settled, Nolan spoke. “Let me introduce myself again. I’m Nolan, former wartime adjutant of the Rosenberg Guard.”
“And our current boss,” Little Donnie added with a grin.
“Don’t interrupt.” Nolan kicked him lightly before continuing, introducing them one by one. “Hank, our former captain and a decorated veteran. His daughter Anna, our supervisor. Little Donnie, the rising star of the Guard. And our logistical backbone, the alchemy master Leus, along with his son, Kreil.”
Each of them nodded in greeting.
Kayan listened carefully, committing every face and name to memory. He could sense the restrained but formidable presence within this small group. None of them were ordinary.
At last, his gaze settled on Nolan. The faint, scale-like patterns he had glimpsed on Nolan’s arm earlier seemed to linger in his mind.
When Nolan finished, Kayan nodded solemnly. He went straight to the point.
“Mr. Nolan,” he said. “May I ask… what your true purpose is in seeking me out?”
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