Lyle Butler.
Two years ago, he had formally begun his student life at Averill Medical Academy, working hard with the goal of becoming a healer who saves lives and nurtures the injured.
Honestly speaking, being a doctor was a controversial profession. Especially, in an era resembling the medieval times where ignorant masses preferred praying to gods over seeking medical help, and where methods of palpation and diagnosis were less welcome than shamanistic dances; in some regions, doctors were even equated with murderers. In such a hostile environment, the future of medical practice seemed grim.
But Lyle didn't have many choices. His weak body, caused by poverty, made it impossible for him to handle physical labor. As for knowledge, he had only a slight aptitude for medicine, barely managing to pass the Averill Academy's entrance exam after cramming until he risked a stroke. His only hope was to get through school and open a small clinic back home to scrape by.
Then, an unfortunate event took place. Just three days after Lyle Butler had celebrated his twentieth birthday, the academy closed down.
The development came abruptly, and a bewildered Lyle didn't come to his senses until he was expelled from the school.
The familiar gates of the academy were now firmly shut, and a knight clad in armor was sealing the gates, while a few middle-aged men conversed nearby.
The portly man adorned in luxurious clothing was one of the academy's directors; the pale blue griffin emblem on his carriage indicated that he was a royal family member, and at the moment, he was ingratiating himself with another somber monk.
That was a priest from the Dawnlight Church, the main culprit behind all of this as Lyle watched everything unfold with a heavy heart.
The closure of the school was the doing of the priests, the church, and the religious groups of Cassandra.
A few months earlier, Lyle had heard rumors about the church prohibiting medical research, and his classmates had begun to worry about their futures.
Even then, in the midst of his studies, Lyle found time to look down on them—pressed with the burden of studying already, they still had the energy to imagine such impractical things. "The sky won't fall with someone tall to hold it up. With all those scholars and teachers, would they let the church expel them? And the royalty—have the rulers gone mad? If they seal the academy, who will be responsible for their health and safety?"
His former sense of intellectual superiority contrasted sharply with his current despair, giving Lyle a mix of emotions that soon turned to anger.
It was an outrageous overreach. They couldn't do this. We were doctors, an indispensable part of social stability. Were church people not human? Did they never fall ill? I must go to the cathedral square to protest. Their interference with medicine was a disrespect to life.
Of course, alone I wasn't enough. I needed the power of a group. If several hundred people gathered in front of the church, surely they wouldn't dare to suppress us with armed force.
Lyle began visiting close teachers non-stop, only to receive one disheartened response after another.
"There's no need."
"It's not necessary."
The anatomy professor, Feler, with whom Lyle had the best relationship, was now like a frostbitten eggplant. Moving around his desk with a forlorn face, he turned to Lyle and showed a look of dejection.
"Lyle, do you know? There's a limit to what humans can do. You can spend your entire life, and in the end, realize that the distance you've walked is just a tiny step compared to others..."
They had been bent by reality, that was the only way Lyle could think about it. It seemed that only the passionate students could be the target of his appeal now. The failure of his visits hinted at a bad omen.
Lyle walked to the Borey estate and, after explaining his purpose to the gatekeeper, waited quietly outside.
Kevin Borey.
One of Lyle's friends from student days, a wealthy heir with a rebellious spirit. Thanks to Lyle's deliberate efforts to win him over, they had become good friends.
Lyle's proactive attitude was conspicuous in daily life. While it isolated him among his classmates, it also attracted some eccentrics. To Mr. Kevin, still basking in his adolescent fantasies, Lyle was nothing short of cool.
"Welcome to my humble abode, our fashion mentor." Dressed in a suit, Kevin emerged from behind the door, ignoring the gatekeeper's advice and led Lyle to the reception room.
Kevin's enthusiasm warmed Lyle's heart. He seemed like a peacock showing its splendid tail, as if worries and troubles couldn't touch him.
"Fashion mentor? Have you been giving me nicknames behind my back again?"
"All credit goes to me, no need to thank me. Moreover, this isn't just something I came up with on a whim. You don't know, but the things you've said have now become the catchphrase of the younger generation."
"Hmm? Which phrase?"
"Oh, my holy light."
Lyle smiled helplessly. Not long after he had entered the school, it was then he, an uninformed newcomer, had realized that the power of the church was still rampant. He had made the remark in jest, and somehow it had turned into a common phrase. It was just an exclamation of amazement from a game, and Lyle didn't delve any deeper. You can't imagine the scope of a medieval youth's creativity when there are few entertainments.
"Where are you taking me now?"
"Ah, my family is hosting a gathering right now, and I plan to bring you, Mr. Trendsetter, over to give them an eye opener."
Lyle stopped in his tracks.
The Borey family might not be part of this country's upper echelon, but they were hereditary barons nonetheless. The kind of people invited to such gatherings one could imagine were nobles, wealthy merchants, and the children of government officials.
And at this moment, the appearance of an ordinary commoner would be no different than a clown's farce to attract public ridicule.
Of course, for commoners, performing monkey tricks for the nobles might well be something they yearn for. If the nobility were pleased, the slightest benefit that slipped through their fingers would be a significant fortune for them.
There are classes in society, and had it not been for the Aiffel Academy, he would hardly have been friends with the son of the Borey family.
"Kevin, let's forget it. I'm not really used to participating in group activities."
Kevin looked at Lyle's face, seeming to understand something.
"Lyle, do you know? My father, Baron Borey, once taught me that as a knight, you may not know anything, but you must at least learn to invest. You must have a sharp eye, good at recognizing the strong, and bind them to your chariot."
"So you think I'm a decent investment."
"Exactly," said Kevin, slinging his arm over the rough cloth of Lyle's coat, "we are brothers, after all. I know you well, Lyle. You are bound to make great achievements."
"From what I know of myself, only my grades at the medical academy are above average, standing out among the rest, and moreover, the academy has just closed down."
The hand Kevin had on Lyle's shoulder twitched a bit. The eyes that had held warm flames just now began to wander aimlessly. "This~ haha, no worries, Lyle. You actually have potential in other areas, it's just that you haven't discovered them yet. Believe me, you can do it."
Watching Kevin start his routine boasting and bantering, Lyle felt a sinking feeling in his heart, "My purpose in coming here is related to medicine, Kevin. I want to rally the students of Averill Academy and go to the church square to protest against the church."
"Oh, my holy light! Lyle, that's not appropriate."
"How is it not appropriate? Doctors are responsible for life, and their prohibition of medicine is a contempt for life. It's completely reasonable."
"This matter, we really aren't reasonable."
"?"
Kevin looked at Lyle as if he were looking at a frog at the bottom of a well. He sighed, "Lyle, in this world, nothing is irreplaceable. Similarly, when it comes to choices, people will opt for the best solution."
"It seems you're not convinced either, given the situation... How about this, you take my family's carriage to the church square and have a look. You'll understand when you see it."
Riding in the carriage, Lyle contemplated the meaning of Kevin's words. What on earth happened to the world? Isn't science and technology the primary productive force anymore? Isn't knowledge power?
Lyle's thoughts were in the midst of a tug-of-war. On one side were the disheartening words of teachers and classmates, and on the other, the truth he firmly believed in.
The carriage door opened, and outside was the vast church square paved with sleek marble. People had to cross the square to enter the Dawnlight Cathedral for prayer. There were quite a few people, but the noise they made was minimal. The solemn and reverent atmosphere weighed in every heart. In the center of the square, many people were gathered, and as Lyle focused, he realized they were protesters like himself. They surrounded several church members, only keeping quiet under the intimidation of a few Paladins.
The priest inside the circle seemed fearless, and his next move blinded Lyle.
"Oh, my holy light!"