The townspeople looked back at him, uneasy yet trusting.
Jorah was a sinner too, but one with a kind heart. And that balance between justice and mercy was what allowed him to see the truth in people.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
The sharp sound of armor striking stone cut through the air.
Conversations died instantly.
People stepped away from the road, pulling their children close, moving back from Jorah and his party. The street cleared as three figures approached, silver armor gleaming under the sun.
The Holy Knights.
Zephros walked at the center, his presence heavy. To his left was Metor, hand resting on his sword. To his right, Covian watched silently, eyes cold.
"It seems you're finally back," Zephros said.
Jorah had been rubbing the child's head. He slowly stood, gently guiding the child behind him. The crowd held its breath.
"Yes," Jorah replied calmly. "I'm back. And it's good to see you."
Zephros smiled faintly. "Have you made your decision? I thought the moment you returned, I'd have my answer. Join the Holy Knights. We exist to protect the citizens."
Jorah's eyes hardened.
"No. I still haven't changed my mind. And like I said before, don't call yourselves Holy Knights."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"You and I both know," Jorah continued, "that you three are anything but holy."
Metor stepped forward angrily. "You dare insult us again?"
Covian's hand twitched near his blade. "Boss, should I cut him down?"
Zephros raised a hand.
"No. Leave him."
He stepped closer to Jorah, his voice dropping, quiet and final.
"You're no longer useful. You made your choice."
He leaned in, the words barely more than a breath, venom laced through them.
"It is only a matter of time before you are dead."
Zephros straightened.
"We are leaving."
The three Holy Knights turned away, their armor ringing against the stone.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Only when the sound faded did the town breathe again.
Life slowly returned. Merchants lifted their voices. Smiles reappeared, shaken but grateful. The veteran adventurers had survived.
Jorah rolled his shoulders and grinned.
"Alright, victory first, drinks later. Adventurers' Guild comes before everything."
The team nodded and moved out.
Lucivar walked at the back, eyes quiet and observant.
So this is how humans greet their protectors.
The moment they reached the Adventurers' Guild, the mood shifted.
The massive doors creaked open.
Conversation died.
Eyes turned. Whispers rippled.
"They're back already?"
"No way, they cleared it?"
"Who is that with them?"
"He does not look local."
Lucivar felt their stares crawl over him.
For a moment, instinct stirred. Eyes of Judgment?
No. It was unnecessary.
They stopped at the counter.
The receptionist beamed.
"Welcome back! Did you complete the quest?"
Jorah answered by dropping a heavy sack onto the counter.
Thud.
"Gold-tier."
Another bag followed. Then another.
Finally, he placed the cores down.
One massive King Golem core.
Four glowing cores from Goblin Generals.
Two dark, pulsing Giant Spider cores.
Silence swallowed the hall.
The receptionist stared.
"You really did it."
She straightened quickly.
"Please wait. I will inform the Guild Master."
As she hurried off, murmurs filled the room again, awed and disbelieving.
Lucivar watched from behind them.
So this is the heart of human power.
Interesting.
The receptionist returned moments later, apologetic.
"I am sorry. The Guild Master is in an important meeting. He will not be available yet."
Jorah shrugged.
"No problem."
She nodded, then her gaze drifted past him, settling on Lucivar.
"And who might that be?"
"Oh, him?" Jorah said easily. "Found him in the forest. Brought him along. He did not object."
Lucivar said nothing.
The receptionist studied him, then nodded.
"I see."
Volric raised a hand.
"He is not registered yet, but he wants to be."
Her smile returned.
"Then step forward, please."
Another receptionist arrived, carefully gathering the cores for inspection.
Lucivar approached the counter.
The receptionist looked up and froze.
He is handsome.
Crimson eyes. Sharp features. Calm. Dangerous.
She cleared her throat.
"Ahem. Right. Please fill this out."
She slid a thick registration book toward him.
"Name, skills, elements, preferred role, anything you can do."
Lucivar opened it.
"What language is this?" he asked softly.
Jorah blinked.
"You cannot read?"
Lucivar paused.
I can.
His eyes adjusted, understanding clicking into place.
"I am capable of reading it," he said calmly.
He picked up the quill and wrote one word:
Lucivar.
He closed the book and slid it back.
The receptionist blinked.
"That is all?"
"I do not know my abilities."
She tilted her head.
"None at all?"
Apart from judgment.
Since being banished from Heaven, most of his power had been stripped away. The strength, the authority, the divine abilities were gone.
"I am not sure," he said aloud. "I do not feel any clear abilities."