Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Raphael turned his face out of the cushion.

"Then let them give up the idea. Developing feelings for their grandfathers or other elders is not good for their growth."

Frey shook his head, as expected. He sat on the uncushioned bench, resting like Raphael.

"My lord, I have a question. When you were in Locarrot, why did you promote Dover to bishop? We could all see that he wasn't a sincere clergyman. But you still chose him. Can you tell me your reasoning?"

Raphael rolled over, reached out and opened the stained glass window, looking at Locarrot in the light.

“Locarrot at that time was too fragile, short of personnel, and its administrative organs were completely paralyzed. What Locarrot needed at that time was not faith, but the vitality brought by strong governance. It was wishful thinking to find someone suitable for this kind of ability in the Guardian Legion, so I settled for the capable Dover. Locarrot now proves that my decision at that time was not wrong.”

"But the true Locarrot people are suffering discrimination."

"Yes, that's why Dover has to step down. Get out of Locarrot along with that Duke. The governing system is in place, and the city is becoming more stable. Now it's time to get rid of the eyesores and install our own people. They've probably been too complacent; they've forgotten that the Guardians are an armed army, not security guards on call."

“Appoint Dover as bishop, let him build a holy city, and then once everything is settled, kick him out. So you’re doing this to get something for nothing.”

“Frey, don’t make it sound like I’ve mistreated them. They’ve been living comfortably in Locarrot for far too long. Don’t you ever think about the wealth they’ve extracted from this city?”

"Do you expect them to take Locarrot's wealth with them? To put it bluntly, they're just working for free."

"Wealth brings pleasure, and they have already found happiness. The Guardians will eliminate threats to humanity, including their own corruption. Long periods of glory have allowed some termites to gnaw at the Light, and we need a great purge from within."

Frey smiled as he watched Raphael get into a serious mood.

"The Guardian Legion will forever follow in your footsteps."

Raphael waved off Frey's offer of loyalty. "I've never worried about the Guardians. You're my right-hand men. You'd be better off doing something productive. By the way, how's the work on the Holy Light Ritual going?"

"In addition to the personnel who are normally responsible for maintaining public order and city defense, new guards have started our activities with the veterans. I believe that before long, the new recruits will become one with us."

Raphael nodded. "The Holy Light needs time to settle. Our power is too scattered. Ever since…," Raphael's face darkened, and he paused for a couple of seconds before continuing, "the Purifier Legion and the Judgement Legion are still fighting their own battles?"

"Yes, having lost their leader, they have lost their way. The Purifiers are nowhere to be found, but the Judges did report to the Holy See last month that they were applying for a war agreement from the Holy See."

"A war treaty? Who do they want to fight?"

"I don't know. It's certain that the Holy Light's enemies are involved. The Judges didn't panic after losing their leader. They are actively improving themselves, planning to promote a new leader and punish heretics by waging war."

Raphael frowned. "Having ambition is a good thing, but waging war is not a good way to get promoted. Being warlike is not conducive to missionary work. Besides, becoming a Crusader leader is not easy, otherwise there wouldn't be only the four of us. In any case, we're brothers, so we should help each other if we can. After the Holy Light Ritual ends, Frey, you will take a legion of the Guardians to assist the Legion Commander of the Inquisitors."

"I will obey your will."

Raphael returned to his nonchalant self, crossing his legs in mid-air and resting his chin on his right hand as he looked at Frey.

"I say, my legion commander, the Judges are so ambitious, why don't you step up and let our Guardians produce a second leader? Do you think you can be modest when it comes to becoming stronger?"

"The Guardians will probably never have a second leader."

"why?"

"Because of you."

"I?"

“You are our recognized leader. Every guardian expresses absolute loyalty and respect to you. As your followers, we cannot have any thoughts of overstepping our bounds, and naturally we cannot reach your level.”

"So you guys are blaming me for not being ambitious?"

"In a sense, yes, Your Majesty Raphael. In our eyes, you are a perfect leader, and we can never surpass you."

"...It's because of your united thinking that others think the Guardians are only good at ganging up and are weak individually."

"Being good at gang fights is enough. We are an army, not brutes who only pursue violence."

"Do whatever you want."

"If Lord Raphael wishes to pursue power, he can certainly improve himself. As far as I know, there are even higher levels above the eighth rank of Crusader Leaders. Lord Raphael, you can certainly go a step further, just like His Majesty."

After Frey's voice stopped and he received no response for a long time, he looked in Raphael's direction with a puzzled expression.

The usually capricious ruler was now unusually silent, his eyes staring blankly into the void before him. His beautiful eyes, no less so than a woman's, were devoid of color. Only when Frey began to worry did his leader finally move.

Raphael closed his eyes, then opened them again, letting out a soft sigh. His voice was as gentle as ever, but it seemed to carry something else within it.

"That's why I'm the leader of you Guardians."

Chapter 244 A Suitable Gift

When the guards in their golden-red armor appeared in the patrols of the holy city of Locarrot, the city's inhabitants had already plunged into revelry. The culinary torment of the previous fast was likely not limited to travelers like Lyle. The seemingly kind, smiling residents, cups in hand, were immersed in a morbid euphoria, which Lyle believed also included a release from long-suppressed emotions. Whatever the method, Locarrot had entered into the frenzy of the Holy Light Ritual.

Whenever they encountered the patrolling guardians, each reveler offered wine and food as if converted to holy light. The guardians removed their helmets, filled them with wine and food, and their exposed faces revealed the same smiles as everyone else.

"The holiness I imagined is very different from reality." Lyle liked the Guardians' gentleness, but when they were showered with praise and delicacies, a slight wavering arose in his heart regarding the purity of the Holy Light. In this city, there were still people being shunned; the chops of meat hanging precariously from the edges of overflowing helmets were like ironic blades piercing Lyle's eyes.

“Yes, Lord Lyle, when I first witnessed this, I also had doubts about the Guardians. They didn’t seem to follow the frugality of the Holy Light. I asked my father about it,” Karen lifted the visor of her helmet and whispered in Lyle’s ear. “The thanksgiving ceremony of the Holy Light Ritual is not one-way. That is why I have the utmost respect for His Majesty Raphael Baidmon. Lord Lyle, please stay close to me.”

Despite being told to stay close, Karen's grip was like an iron clamp, giving Lyle no choice. He was dragged to a restaurant, nestled like a building block in a secluded alley, surrounded by white walls that created blind spots. If Karen hadn't led the way, Lyle wouldn't have even ended up in such a restaurant. Although the place was bustling with people, the density of paladin guards was too high.

"A restaurant that caters exclusively to paladins?" Lyle watched as the guards carrying helmets entered the restaurant one by one and never came out again, perhaps enjoying their meal.

"Let's go in quickly, Lord Lyle."

Lyle was dragged and squeezed through the guards' ranks. The guards who were pushed aside by little Karen showed no displeasure and gave Lyle a humble smile after he apologized.

Karen showed Lyle how to learn about the Guardians.

Some new Guardians also need to understand themselves.

Nelson Cano had only joined the Guardians of the Legion five months prior; before that, he had been a prospective paladin in Duvenshire, and becoming a crusader had always been his dream. Therefore, he was extremely disciplined for this journey to the Holy City. Nelson stood in the middle of the road with his captain, offering sincere gratitude to the residents who had given him food. His muscles twitched, and his face was practically contorted with laughter.

His captain, Pierre, was a straightforward and rough man who took great care of Nelson, a newcomer, and provided him with a lot of physical guidance. Nelson didn't blame him; to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a beating first. Especially as he found himself getting stronger under pressure, the joy of growth made him respect this senior who didn't seem much older than him even more.

"Keep smiling, kid! We're accepting food from other people."

Nelson stared at the helmet stuffed full of meat chops, the aroma of dripping grease wafting from it. "Commander Pierre, my face is almost numb, and we've received too much. We don't need so much food," Nelson thought, his words unspoken.

"As a paladin, how could you so readily accept favors from those you are supposed to protect, violating the humility expected of a paladin? Is that what you think?" Pierre's smile remained unchanged. "Obey orders, soldiers, it is our duty."

"Yes, sir."

Carrying a full load of food, Nelson followed behind Pierre, just like the other paladins, weaving through the deep alleys, far from the praise and clamor. Perhaps they were just looking for a place where no one would notice them, Nelson chuckled self-deprecatingly.

They arrived at a restaurant, which was already packed with people. Paladins, laden with food like themselves, were crammed into the small space. All the seats were occupied by paladins, each with a plate in front of them, and pieces of meat stacked on top of each plate from their helmets. Some guards were also queuing, carrying their own food. Nelson noticed that the long, crowded line led to the kitchen. Feeling bewildered, Nelson joined the queue.

Then Pierre grabbed him and pulled him out, shoving Nelson into a seat before squeezing into the line leading to the kitchen. "The kitchen is too early for you, newbie. Start with the basics."

Nelson looked at the long table full of his fellow paladins and was speechless for a moment.

“Don’t worry, newbie, it’s very simple,” the enthusiastic senior sitting beside him began to teach Nelson step by step… how to heat food with holy light… “Yes, use the divine spell of Holy Flame. The temperature of this spell is just right for grilling meat. Ah! Tilt your wrist a little, your posture is not quite right… the heat is too low, increase the output of holy light. Very good, maintain this temperature for twelve minutes. Alright, newbie, your task is complete, but you still need to refine your control over the holy light.”

Nelson stared at the steaming, sizzling steak in his bowl, and his mind went blank.

A Holy Light Cooking Course? Nelson watched the guards lining up to head to the kitchen, and a terrible, yet undeniably real, thought popped into his head: could it be...?

A pillar of fire shot out of the kitchen window, and the paladins cast their protective spells, marveling at the spectacle. "It's Holy Flame Stir-fry! My goodness, is some master chef's creation about to appear?"

Nelson's worldview has crumbled. So when a cute and gentle girl approaches with some simple vegetables, he mechanically passes them over.

"Platering and garnishing are also important; beautiful design can affect people's appetite. It's an art."

The words of the senior Guardian sitting next to him only annoyed him. Nelson was filled with humiliation and impatience. His opinion of the Guardians changed. A group of Crusaders using Holy Light for these meaningless pastimes—Nelson regretted his actions. Frustrated, he grabbed some lettuce leaves, tore them up carelessly, and threw them into his plate.

The nearby guardians did not stop him from doing so, but simply prepared their food to perfection.

What's next? The foolish gluttony is finally about to begin? Just as Nelson thought he was prepared for something worse, one by one, the guardians stood up, carrying their carefully prepared food, and lined up to head towards the back door of the restaurant. There, the girl with the warm smile was chatting happily with the other paladins. Behind her was a large pile of white masks.

When it was Nelson's turn, the girl's eyes held a pure light, like dewdrops on a lotus flower, sparkling in the sunlight. She handed Nelson a mask, her beautiful eyes twinkling like stars.

"Praise be to the Holy Light, Guardian. This is your mask."

"mask?"

The girl smiled. "Of course, you don't have to wear a mask. It's an item from my fellow countrymen, a simple symbol, but I'm sure the children will love your handsome appearance."

Behind Nelson, the other guards had already put on their masks. "Newcomer, you'd better wear one. It's a sign of respect for the victims."

Nelson wasn't a troublemaker; he thanked the girl, put on the mask, and went through the back door.

Behind the door lies another world.

In a world untouched by light, walls shrouded in shadow lay scattered about, piles of rubble and tiles, the surfaces protected by uneven layers of resin. Nelson and the other guardians stood on one side, while on the other, a group of masked children in tattered clothes gazed curiously from behind the adults.

The guard carried the food he had carefully prepared and walked over.

One by one, the paladins bent their knees and handed them the food that smelled delicious.

"Child, may the Holy Light bless you."

Two identical masks, one high and one low, stared at each other.

"Praise be to the Holy Light, thank you, Guardian."

The guardians exchanged smiles for food, cooked it with the blessing of holy light, and finally, in return, received a smile, a hug, a small gift, and praise for the holy light. This is the activity of the guardians during the Holy Light Ritual: helping those in need.

Nelson thanked his mask, his face contorted with shame. "My holy light! I actually questioned my faith!" he murmured. Looking at the food he had carelessly given so little, he finally understood the look in his companions' eyes. They knew he would regret it sooner or later.

This humiliation is my punishment.

But I still have responsibilities. Nelson, with his steps heavy as a thousand pounds, knelt before a child, looked at his hesitant expression, and offered him his food.

“I’m sorry, child, I didn’t take my food seriously, but my blessings for you are as sincere and fervent as those for my other companions. May the Holy Light bless you, child. I hope you can accept my clumsiness.”

The child hesitated, then pulled a rough stone from behind his back. "Guardian, this...this is a gift I prepared for you. It's an ordinary stone I found, but...but I didn't do a good job with it. I wanted to polish it into a smooth round stone, but I couldn't. Praise be to the Holy Light. Will you accept my thanks?"

Nelson took his hand.

"Thank you, child. Nothing could be more suitable for me."

Chapter 245 The Magic Flute Player

Lyle handed the plate to Rachel, the girl with the bright smile in the restaurant. She, like Lyle, was now wearing a mask, collecting used plates from the group of masked people. Karen, with her unique aura and dazzling armor, had become the focus of attention among the children, and she had already befriended some of the bolder ones. Besides the Guardians' group activities, there were also a few outsiders like Lyle who were eager to help, though their numbers were quite small.

“Thank you so much for your help, sir. Your kindness shines like a holy light.” Rachel put the plates Lyle handed her into her cart. The plates were fairly clean, with only a thin layer of grease on the surface.

Lyle watched the paladins in the distance boasting to their companions about the gifts they had received, the trinkets they held in their hands being touted as priceless treasures. "I only offered what assistance I could," he said. "Compared to their golden souls, nothing else shines."

Rachel's work continues.

"Kindness has no hierarchy; in my eyes, and in the eyes of my fellow countrymen, you are all great people."