Death Knight: I Came to Londan for Only Three Things

The Great Cemetery. A cold, hazy moon hung in the dark sky, and heavy fog smothered the earth. In this gloomy realm, tombstones stood like massive silhouettes beneath the pale moonlight. The cemetery was encircled by a ring of tall woods. As gusts of wind swept past, the fog howled and leaves rustled, breaking the domain's deathly stillness. At the center of the graveyard, where the fog hung thickest and eerie will-o'-the-wisps drifted about, a crowd clad in black held lanterns aloft, lending a chilling air to the sepulchral silence. The faithful of Death had arrived as promised, waiting for the Death Knight to deliver the divine oracle. It was a thoroughly foolish gathering. Had they been surrounded by mages from the Triple Goddess Alliance, or had this entire meeting been an ambush, the leadership of Death's cult in Londan would have been wiped out in a single stroke. Yet they had come anyway—a testament to both the piety and the folly of their devotion. As the hour inched toward dawn, pairs of watchful eyes opened in the surrounding woods, waiting for the Death Knight's arrival. The participants were numerous, and by no means limited to the faithful of Death. Several major churches watched closely, and even that mysterious Dark Knight had made an appearance at the Great Cemetery tonight. When the midnight bell tolled, the fog grew so dense that one could scarcely see the hand before their face. Amid the believers' anxious anticipation, crisp hoofbeats echoed from deep within the cemetery. An evil spirit hound parted the thick mist, and an undead servant in a beige overcoat and black top hat held the reins as the Death Knight rode his steed into the presence of the faithful. "Praise be to the Goddess! With our deepest reverence, we come to heed the teachings of her Knight!" The believers bowed one after another, praising the Goddess and her Knight. Some even pressed forward to kiss the Death Knight's war boot, only to be frightened back by a fierce snarl from the hound. To ordinary eyes, the Death Knight was clad in battered, menacing armor, radiating resentment and fury toward the living. His blade thirsted to drink its fill of blood; wherever he rode, he claimed life and left death and pestilence in his wake, an embodiment of despair. To the followers of Death, it was quite the opposite. The Knight was noble and mysterious, his every gesture brimming with elegance. Holding their breaths at such close proximity, the cultists clenched their fists in thrill. They felt their lives had found meaning; even if they were hauled off to an asylum this very instant, they would have no regrets. "I am the Death Knight. I come in the name of the Goddess to spread the faith of Death and proclaim her oracle. You are her most devoted children, and your presence brings me great pleasure." Wayne surveyed the gathering, a deep, resonant voice echoing from within his skeletal head. "As for the rest of you, though no invitations were sent, since you are here, I am willing to treat you as guests. Come out. There is no need to hide." At those words, the believers erupted in fury, clamoring to drag the heretics out and bleed them dry. With the Death Knight present, the followers felt as though they were clinging to an invincible thighbone. Fearless and invigorated, strength surged through their limbs. Wayne let out a cold snort, cutting through their ceaseless chatter. His piercing white gaze swept the distance as he rested a gauntleted hand on his sword hilt. "I said there is no need to hide. Doing so only brings shame to your beliefs." Rustling footsteps sounded as over a hundred figures emerged from the woods. Divided along distinct lines, they hailed from various factions, with varying degrees of affinity and estrangement among them. Seeing the overwhelming numbers and formidable presence of the intruders, the followers of Death fell silent and took a synchronized step back, retreating behind the Knight. Wayne: "..." Watching them switch positions with such spineless haste no longer struck him as funny; it was plain embarrassing. The uninvited guests could broadly be grouped into four forces: the Holy See of the Heavenly Father, the Free Mages Alliance, the Triple Goddess Alliance, and their nominal allies, the Church of Darkness, who had come to bolster their presence. Within the Goddess Alliance, there were three branches: Nature, Sun, and Moonlight. Wayne spotted two familiar faces in the Goddess Alliance's ranks—his teacher, Xifei, and Head Coach Dick from the gym. Noticing so many acquaintances, his gaze drifted toward the representative of the Church of Moonlight. She was a decently dressed woman around fifty years of age. Though her lean face showed lines of aging, she was in high spirits, with sharp eyebrows that radiated formidable authority. Other lurkers remained hidden in the woods, but Wayne paid them no heed. He had come today to talk sense, not to wage war. He glanced around and ordered his followers to stand back out in front. What did it look like, cowering behind him like that? If they didn't care about saving face, the Goddess certainly did! "I bring the Goddess's oracle: Londan has fallen into filth once more..." Ignoring the murmurs along the fringes, Wayne spoke with composure. "Some spend their lives destitute, some are born ugly, while others enter this world blessed with wealth, food, and striking beauty. The disparity between mortals is vast—so vast that injustice permeates every corner of the world. However..." "All people march toward death; all will meet death. Whether you resist or protest, you will ultimately leave this world and enter eternal, peaceful slumber." "Death is fair. Death is tranquil. Before death, all are equal. No matter who you are, one day you will die. This is the fairness granted by the Goddess to all living things." Listening to the oracle, the cultists felt validated. They had not misplaced their faith; the Goddess understood completely, and the Knight had struck right at their hearts. The uninvited guests, however, were left baffled. The Death Knight had spouted a whole sermon of grand principles, but what point was he actually trying to make? If this counted as a divine oracle, it was hopelessly vacuous. If you preach like this your entire life, you'll never win more converts for the Goddess of Death. Step aside and let us show you how professionals do it. "The Goddess tells me that Londan is steeped in filth," Wayne continued. "Evil runs rampant and criminals gather in swarms, dragging an already unjust world into deeper depravity. Rather than the mortal realm, it resembles Hell." Wayne lowered his gaze to Abo. "A few days ago, on the banks of the River Thame, I awakened my servant. In life, he was an upright and fearless Londan police officer who was murdered for exposing injustice..." "After awakening, he resumed his fight against evil, successfully bringing down... Justice was served, evil was punished, and the tilted scales of injustice were restored to balance just a little." "The Goddess's oracle is fairness. As her followers, you must uphold this principle through and through. Any bullying of the weak or abuse of power for personal gain is an act of blasphemy against the divine. You must not only discipline yourselves, but hold others accountable as well..." "The Goddess commands you to establish new footholds across Londan's five districts and form an organization open to ordinary citizens to help them secure the fairness they deserve. Justice may be delayed, but it must never be denied." As Wayne spoke in a measured cadence, the cultists' jaws dropped, and the guests were left dumbfounded, questioning whether their ears were deceiving them. Planck, the asylum director concealed among the Church of Darkness, was convinced the Death Knight had gone mad—and raving mad at that. Wayne's statuesque teacher was in a similar state. Xifei stared in utter shock, having never heard such radical doctrine. Although the underlying intent was noble, what in the world did this have to do with Death? Rather than squandering substantial manpower and resources on this sort of meddling, why not focus on gathering converts? Fairness? There were barely a handful of Death cultists in Londan; they would work themselves into an early grave before achieving anything... At that thought, Xifei's heart gave a sudden lurch. *So that's it.* She understood. At first glance, the Death Knight's oracle appeared utterly hollow—a stream of lofty, meaningless blather that would be nearly impossible to execute and doomed by resistance from every quarter. Yet on second thought, wasn't this a brilliant tactic for recruiting followers? People yearned for light and hungered for fairness. If the Death Knight actually managed to produce results, the Goddess of Death's reputation in Londan would take a complete turnabout. Even if the common folk did not convert, they would no longer tolerate others slandering a fair and just Death. Whether they succeeded did not matter; what mattered was that the followers of Death were seen taking action! Cold sweat beaded on Xifei's neck as the sheer malice of the Death Knight's ploy dawned on her. She silently cursed how thorny this would be. As expected of a long-renowned Death Knight, his mastery over the human heart was truly formidable. Xifei refused to believe he was acting in earnest. This early display of turning over a new leaf was surely groundwork for a massive future sacrifice. At the very least, it was an overt scheme—using benevolence to win the public over, propelling his prestige to its peak, and thereby driving all rival faiths out of Londan. Planck, meanwhile, remained convinced: *The Death Knight is completely insane!* "Nonsense!" A sharp shout interrupted Wayne. A middle-aged man in a white robe stepped forward from the Holy See's ranks. He was the archbishop of the Londan diocese, and he said with utter bluntness, "I know not whether the Knight speaks a true oracle of the Goddess of Death, but I do know that the mortal realm has mortal laws! Every church signed an accord agreeing that we cannot arbitrarily use our powers to interfere in worldly affairs. That is true fairness!" "From what I know, the Holy See was once the greatest source of injustice in the world," Wayne sneered back in mockery. "You controlled every lever of high power. The fact that the Papal States still stand today is the finest proof. Had you not interfered, the Papal States would have adopted a constitutional monarchy long ago." The archbishop's eyelid twitched. The reasoning held water, but the Papal States had their own difficulties; running such a massive enterprise was no easy task. Besides, the Holy See had shown great restraint of late. The venerable Pope himself was indeed considering the separation of church and state. The tides of the era were rolling in, and even the Holy See had to adapt. At the mention of that accord, the leaders of the various churches present understood the score. Conflicts had grown too fierce for anyone to endure, so open fighting was driven underground until sufficient power had accumulated—or friction escalated to a breaking point—at which time another large-scale war of faith would erupt. "I came to Londan for only three things: fairness, fairness, and damn well fairness!" After firing his jab at the archbishop, Wayne turned back to the cultists. "You must do everything in your power to uphold fairness. As required by the accord, you shall not employ supernatural force. If you encounter overwhelming resistance and cannot achieve fairness, you may turn to my servant. If it is beyond his reach, he will bring the matter to me." With that, he swept his eyes across the congregation. "Any more questions?" Yes! The believers exchanged baffled glances, their bellies churning with questions. Finally, one stepped forward, bowed, and asked, "Lord Knight, it is not that we doubt you, but... is this truly the Goddess's oracle?" "What, do you imagine you understand Death better than I do?" "..." Hardly. After all, you're the one who is actually dead. "Mortal intellect cannot fathom the divine will of the Goddess. I will not hold it against you, but do not make a habit of displaying your ignorance before me. Go. Obey the oracle. Time will prove all things," Wayne commanded. His words were not empty posturing. He could state with absolute certainty that while the oracle was fabricated, Death was indeed peaceful and fair. These insights stemmed from his own comprehension of mortality—echoing the admonition of the Nelson family that someone else's wife is always more appealing, while one's own children are always the best. Bah, slip of the tongue. Not that one. Gods possessed neither inherent good nor evil; each deity was two-sided. The crucial factor lay in how the faithful interpreted them. Wayne found serenity and fairness in Death. As the Death Knight, what he called an oracle was an oracle. Anyone who disagreed could take it up with the Goddess of Death herself and tell her the Death Knight said so in person. "Go. Serve the Goddess well. When you die, your rewards will not be lacking." Wayne waved his hand, and the evil spirit hound roared into the dense mist, clearing a long path directly out of the Great Cemetery for the believers to depart. Though lingering doubts remained, the cultists chose to trust Wayne. The Death Knight was the Goddess's personal champion; he could deceive anyone, but never them. They would return and make preparations immediately. First, they would hit up the Free Mages Alliance for sponsorships, then open five detective agencies and law firms to offer legal aid to the citizenry. The believers drifted away in a daze, never imagining in their wildest dreams that their faith would one day take such a turn. Halfway out, one cultist doubled back, bowing low. "Honored Lord Knight, I received intelligence a few days ago that the High Priest of the Church of Nature is preparing to move against you. The information comes from the upper echelons of the Church of Nature and is entirely reliable." The cultist's voice rang out loud and clear, making Xifei's eyelids twitch violently. Which fool had leaked that? Did they feel no shame in employing such a crude attempt to borrow a knife to kill someone? It wasn't Sidney, nor could it be Simone. It had to be one of the other two fools. Goddess above, what an embarrassment! "I am aware. Depart at once, and remember to travel the night roads less often from now on." Wayne waved him off. Once the believers had completely cleared out, he rested his hand on his pommel once more. "My guests, do you have anything else to say? If not, I have a word for you..." "I, the Death Knight, am not fond of conflict by nature. I despise bloodshed above all!" "Yet to fulfill the Goddess's oracle, I do not mind staining my hands with blood. This city is far too foul. If you consider yourselves noble and refuse to dirty your hands, kindly do not obstruct the Goddess's followers from championing justice and bringing fairness to the people." "..." Fairness? You're blatantly doing this to recruit followers! Disbelief reigned in every heart. Only children argued over right and wrong; adults understood that order took precedence. By forcing his brand of justice onto Londan, the Death Knight would only muddy the already murky waters, and in the end, ordinary citizens would pay the price. Still... What did that have to do with them? The contingent from the Free Mages Alliance was the first to leave. Those without faith refrained from instigating conflict. The Holy See's ranks departed right after; Death was not the Heavenly Father's foe, nor was the Death Knight an affiliate of an evil god. The members of the Church of Darkness lingered, watching. Death was an ally of Darkness. While they might not take up arms directly, their stance in supporting an ally had to remain firm. The pressure shifted to the Triple Goddess Alliance. Head Coach Dick and the lean female mage focused their attention on the Church of Darkness. The Death Knight was too powerful, and the Dark Knight might well be lurking in the shadows; pointless sacrifices were to be avoided. Xifei hesitated. Having once served as the head of the Scalpel division in Paris, she had encountered the Death Knight more than once. Her intuition told her there was a ninety-percent chance the figure before them was an impostor—formidable in appearance, but fragile in reality. Considering the remaining ten-percent chance, however, she was unwilling to take the gamble. One High Priest had already fallen not long ago; they could not afford to lose another. They would bide their time. Powerful reinforcements from headquarters would arrive soon. The forces of the Triple Goddess Alliance executed an orderly withdrawal, while the members of the Church of Darkness bowed respectfully to Wayne before fading into the night. It was clear that everyone was exercising immense restraint. Wayne was being very restrained as well. "Far too mature..." Wayne murmured, turning his mount to depart. Suddenly, he sensed a ripple of disturbance. Signaling Abin and Abo to vanish into the thick fog, he rode alone toward the woods on the opposite side. This stretch of forest was shrouded in ink-black night, impenetrable to the hazy moonlight, and even the all-pervading mist halted at its edge. The entire woods resembled an abyss of nothingness, swallowing everything that crossed its threshold. At the source of this darkness stood a tall figure clad in black armor, enveloped in a cloak. A black iron mask covered his face, sealed tightly with not even his eyes exposed. The Dark Knight. Wayne's long-dormant supernatural senses flared with a warning. This man was exceedingly dangerous. "Death Knight, Londan is not your territory. You have crossed the line," the Dark Knight spoke. "Who are you?" Wayne tried to decipher the man's voice, but failed. It was low, thick, and raspy, sounding like someone with throat cancer. "You may not have seen me before. I am the knight chosen by the dark, handpicked by the Goddess herself—the Dark Knight." "..." What the hell? Calling yourself the Dark Knight right in front of Wayne? Wayne was taken aback. Just a few days ago, he had been pondering changing his moniker, never expecting the persona had already been claimed. It was rather vexing. He felt like negotiating with the man to see if they could swap places—trade goddesses so Wayne could become the Dark Knight while the fellow re-classed into the Death Knight. Wisely, Wayne kept the thought to himself. It was almost certainly out of the question. The Dark Knight watched Wayne with a cold gaze. The latter's demeanor did not resemble that of a seasoned veteran of great renown; instead, he seemed more like a novice fresh out of the gate. Furthermore, with another Death Knight in Paris, there was a ninety-percent chance this one was a fake. Yet the rich aura of death was unmistakable; one could only conclude that the two Death Knights were not the same individual. Had the Goddess of Death expanded her ranks and begun assembling a whole squad? The Dark Knight could not comprehend it. He only knew that attaining the status of knight required fulfilling brutally harsh conditions; it was highly improbable for a single goddess to possess two knights walking the mortal realm simultaneously. Neither knight spoke, standing in quiet confrontation. Whether through an uncanny mutual understanding or simply because the tension had reached its peak, Wayne rested his hand on his pommel, and the Dark Knight braced for battle as well. The branches rustled as a beam of light sliced downward, sundering the locked gazes of the two knights like a sharp blade. Wayne turned toward a massive tree, his heart tightening sharply. *That familiar presence!* *Teacher, what are you doing here? That's the Dark Knight over there, plus his ally, the Death Knight—hurry back and work overtime!* *Wait, could it be that Teacher is strong enough to solo two knights at once?* At the exact same moment, the Dark Knight looked in that direction as well. "The High Priest..." With the Dark Knight's murmured breath, the consciousness lurking in the woods swiftly receded. Neither knight made a move. After a long pause. "Leave this to me," both said in unison.