The ranks within the knights of the Empire were like steps on an endless ladder. Copper Knight. Iron Knight. Silver Knight. Gold Knight. Each rank symbolized progress, a badge of skill, and dedication. But once you crossed the threshold into the Holy Knights, things changed. The climb became steeper. There were three stages here—first, the regular Holy Knight, who was strong and respected, but this was just the beginning. Then the Major Holy Knight, the second stage, made up of individuals like the team I now led.
And then there was the third stage—Grand Holy Knight more commonly known as a Holy Knight Captain. That was me.
This rank wasn't necessary. Most Major Holy Knights, once they reached their peak, moved on to the next rank: Radiant Knights. Beyond the Holy Knights, you didn't serve the Empire directly anymore. You were free. A mercenary in all but name. That freedom was tempting, and most took it. But there were those of us who didn't.
The loyal ones. The ones who chose to stay.
Becoming a Holy Knight Captain wasn't about prestige or wealth. Sure, the benefits were there—better pay, more respect—but those weren't the real reasons anyone chose this path. We did it because we couldn't imagine walking away from the Empire, even knowing what the process demanded of us.
That test… it wasn't something you could prepare for. It wasn't just difficult; it was brutal. Utterly, mercilessly brutal. Most of it is kept secret, even within the Empire. If the commoners knew what we endured, their view of the Empire would shift. Maybe crack.
But I remember it. Every moment.
That one single trial.
I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My ash-gray hair, slicked back as usual, rested just below my shoulders. The olive tone of my skin stretched over a body honed through years of training—muscles tight, deliberate, and functional. My black trousers and long-sleeve compression shirt clung to me like armor, the fabric gripping every curve of my upper body and stopping halfway up my neck.
I reached out, running my fingers over the edge of the wooden cabinet that propped up the mirror. The grain felt rough beneath my fingertips. My throat felt dry, and I swallowed hard, the sound of it loud in the quiet room.
Then, a knock broke the stillness. Three sharp taps on the door.
I let out a long breath, trying to steady the nerves that churned in my chest. My fingers reached for the doorknob, but when they wrapped around it, I noticed the faint tremble in my grip. I exhaled again, slower this time, and turned the handle.
Standing there was a man clad in full metal armor. The golden dragon insignia on his chest plate caught the light, gleaming against the dim backdrop of the hallway. His voice was steady, almost detached.
"Edwin Lionstone. Your ride is here."
It felt like time had been stolen from me. One moment, I was standing in my room, and the next, I found myself stepping out of a carriage. The capital stretched out before me, the edge of the cliff I stood near dropping into a moat that seemed impossibly far below. My throat tightened, and I gulped down another drop of saliva. The same knight who had come for me motioned for me to follow, leading the way to a small wooden shack.
Inside, the shack was barren, except for a single steel hatch embedded in the floor. The knight knelt, lifting the hatch with ease and revealing a dark descent. He gestured silently for me to climb down. I hesitated, just for a moment, and then lowered myself onto the ladder. The metal rungs were cool against my palms.
The climb was short. My boots hit the ground, and I found myself in a metal chamber, dimly lit and oppressive. Nine others were already there, their auras sharp, menacing. Their eyes darted to me, and in that instant, I knew—any sign of weakness, and I'd become their prey.
I spread my bloodlust. It wasn't just an aura; it was a blade, sharp and deliberate. I'd worked on this for years, perfecting the control, honing the edges. The shift was immediate. I could sense the sweat forming at the base of their necks, could hear the small shifts in their breathing.
The knight descended after me, closing the hatch above with a metallic clang. Suddenly, the ladder shot upward, disappearing into the ceiling. The hole sealed seamlessly, and darkness swallowed the room. Then, a faint glow appeared. The knight raised his hand, summoning a small sphere of holy light.
"Leadership can be learned," he began, his voice cutting through the silence. "Respect must be earned. You have all chosen to serve the Empire, but only one of you will come out of here alive. Immerse yourselves in your ideals. Do not bow to the forces of your enemies. If you survive, you will ascend to the power of Radiant Knights. And you will learn the secret technique."
The light flickered. His figure wavered. And then, he was gone. As if he'd never been there in the first place.
The room was silent, only reserved for the sound of tense breathing. I felt their gazes. Hungry. Calculating. A voice in my head screamed to keep my bloodlust steady, to not let it falter.
Then, a countdown began.
"Five…"
The air grew heavier. My pulse quickened.
"Four…"
I adjusted my stance, spreading my weight evenly, preparing for the inevitable.
"Three…"
Someone shifted. The faint scrape of a boot against the floor echoed louder than it should have.
"Two…"
I exhaled slowly, steadying my heartbeat.
"One…"
The words hit like a hammer, shattering the silence.
"May the Lord bless you in life and death… Begin."
The moment the countdown hit zero, the chamber erupted into chaos. Holy Power surged like a storm, painting the dimly lit space with flashes of light and heat. My lion's mantle roared to life around me, golden energy spilling out and coiling across my body like a living force.
I planted myself against the far wall, my back protected as I scanned the chaos. One man with jagged, serrated Holy Power lunged toward a woman conjuring twin shields of energy. Their clash sent a shockwave through the room. I moved before I became a target, darting toward the nearest figure—an older man with a steely gaze and a halo of energy circling his fists.
He was fast. His first strike was a straight jab, his fist glowing. I twisted, stepping inside his reach, and drove my elbow into his ribs. His Holy Power absorbed the blow, flaring as he spun, aiming a hook at my head. I ducked, dropping low, and swept my leg toward his ankles. He jumped, narrowly avoiding it, and I countered with a burst of energy from my lion's claws, sending him flying back into another fighter.
Before I could press the attack, a searing beam of Holy Power grazed my shoulder, forcing me to roll to the side. A woman with wild, unkempt hair had her hands raised, golden spears of energy forming in her grip. She threw them with pinpoint accuracy, and I dodged, my mantle flaring to deflect the ones I couldn't avoid. I charged her, closing the gap, and the lion's claws swiped toward her midsection. She leaped back, narrowly escaping, but her movement brought her into the path of another fighter—a hulking man whose Holy Power manifested as massive, glowing gauntlets.
The gauntlets smashed into her with a loud crash, sending her sprawling. The large man turned his attention to me, his grin predatory. He rushed forward, swinging a fist the size of my head. I sidestepped, ducking low and retaliating with a sharp uppercut. My lion's energy amplified the blow, making him stagger, but he recovered quickly, his gauntlets glowing brighter. He slammed both fists downward, and I barely rolled away in time, the impact leaving a shallow crater where I'd been standing.
Another fighter joined the fray—a wiry man with flickering, snake-like tendrils of energy slithering from his arms. The tendrils lashed out, forcing me to split my focus. I deflected one with a burst of energy, but the second wrapped around my ankle, pulling me off balance. The big man lunged again, his gauntlet glowing as he aimed a finishing blow at my chest. I twisted mid-fall, using the lion's claws to sever the tendril, and rolled to my feet just in time to dodge the punch.
Everywhere, there was chaos.
Fighters clashed, healing from their injuries with Holy Power just to dive back into the fray. A man with Holy Power resembling flowing water clashed with a woman whose energy burned like a forge, steam rising between them. Another duel raged between a pair of fighters, one conjuring crystalline spikes of golden light, the other using energy waves to shatter them.
I had no time to analyze them all. A woman with razor-sharp Holy Power charged me, her strikes rapid and surgical. I deflected her first two swipes, but the third nicked my side, drawing a flash of pain. After sealing the wound with my Holy Power, I retaliated with a sweeping kick, forcing her back, and lunged forward, driving a punch toward her stomach. She blocked with a glowing barrier, but I pressed harder, pouring energy into the lion's claws until her shield shattered. My follow-up strike sent her sprawling.
Another blast caught me from behind. A man with orb-like energy constructs was using them to pummel everyone in range. I spun, dodging one, and launched a lion-shaped projectile toward him. It hit him square in the chest, knocking him into another brawler.
The fight wore on, a brutal cycle of injuries, healing, and unrelenting attacks. My breath grew heavier, my muscles burning, but I refused to slow down. I stayed on the move, capitalizing on openings, and exploiting moments of weakness. But the constant healing drained me, each injury taking a toll despite my efforts.
Then, after what felt like an eternity of struggle, it was just me and one other man.
It came down to just us. Me and him. His Holy Power burned red, wild, and untamed, licking the air like a living inferno. My lion's mantle growled against the oppressive heat, but I could feel it, fraying at the edges. His eyes—bloodshot, feral—never left mine. I couldn't look away. Couldn't afford to.
We circled. Slow. Methodical. Testing each other. My legs screamed to collapse, but I ignored them. His golden flames flared brighter, and then he moved. Fast. Too fast.
A fist, wreathed in fire, came at my ribs. I twisted, barely avoiding it, but the heat scorched my side. My own claws swiped upward, glowing gold, catching his shoulder. Flesh sizzled. He grunted, staggering, but didn't stop.
I healed myself.
He was on me again. A barrage of blows—fists, knees, elbows. Fire everywhere. It was relentless. I blocked the first few, deflecting his punches with my forearms, but one slipped through, crashing into my jaw. Stars exploded in my vision. Pain followed. A lot of it.
I healed again.
I stumbled, but the lion's mantle surged forward, snapping at him like a beast protecting its wounded master. He jumped back, narrowly avoiding the claws. I didn't wait. I lunged, my body running on fumes and fury, driving my fist toward his face. He dodged, but I twisted mid-strike, clawing at his chest. My nails raked across his skin, golden energy leaving deep, glowing gashes. He hissed in pain, but his flames sealed the wounds almost instantly.
We clashed again. Power against power. My claws slashed through the air, his fists hammering into me like molten steel. Every hit sent tremors through my body, every dodge drained my already fragile stamina. I couldn't keep this up. Neither could he.
Healed. Struck. Healed again. A vicious cycle. His energy flickered. So did mine. My vision blurred, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
He roared, flames exploding outward. A shockwave slammed into me, sending me skidding across the metal floor. My back hit the wall, hard. My lungs burned. He didn't give me time to recover. He was already on me, his fist drawn back, fire coiling around it like a viper.
My body was numb… but I had to move… move… move… move! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!
I ducked. The punch shattered the wall where my head had been. My claws lashed out, catching his side. Blood sprayed, steaming as it hit the floor. He howled, spinning to backhand me with his burning fist. It caught my shoulder, sending me spinning, but I used the momentum, driving my heel into his knee. It buckled, and he dropped. I pounced, claws aiming for his throat.
He caught my wrist.
His grip was like iron, heat searing my skin. I gritted my teeth, pouring energy into my mantle. The lion roared, and golden energy erupted, forcing him to release me. I stumbled back, panting. He rose, slowly, his flames guttering but not out.
"You bastard… just die," I growled.
His lips curled into a bloody grin. "Ditto."
We charged. No finesse. No strategy. Just raw, animalistic fury. His fists crashed into my ribs, breaking them. My claws tore into his abdomen, spilling blood. Neither of us stopped. We couldn't afford to.
Pain blurred into rage. My strikes grew wild. Feral. The lion's mantle roared louder, feeding on my desperation, my will to survive. His flames burned brighter, hotter, threatening to consume us both.
I hit him. He hit me. Neither of us fell.
Time slowed. Or maybe it sped up. I couldn't tell anymore. My body screamed, but I silenced it. My mind screamed, but I drowned it out with the roar of my mantle.
It all came down to one moment. One strike.
He lunged, fire engulfing his entire arm, aiming to end it. I met him head-on, pouring everything—my energy, my rage, my will—into one final blow. My claws extended, glowing like molten gold, and slashed through his flames. His attack faltered, his flames sputtering out as my claws tore through his chest.
He staggered, blood pouring from the wound. His knees buckled. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met mine. And then he fell, unable to heal any longer.
I stood there, swaying, barely able to breathe. My vision swam, the room spinning around me. My mantle flickered, fading into nothingness. The air was still. Silent. Except for my ragged breaths.
I had survived. Barely.
My vision almost flickered and so did my sense of time as when I blinked again, I found myself in that metal room, corpses around me, now brightened up with the same knight who led us here, standing in front of me.
"Congratulations. For somebody who ran away during the entrance exams, it is nice to see your growth," The knight complimented.
"I've learned from my mistakes. When something is on the line, running isn't even an option to me now."
"Incredible. Absolutely incredible. This is what I love to see from a Captain," The knight clapped for a moment before raising his right hand up, a golden light emitting from his gauntlet. "Now, for the secret technique, repeat after me…"
…
(Present Day)
"O' Lord of Light," Edwin muttered, each word carrying weight as if etched into the air itself, "grant me the power to uproot evil with my own hands."
Holy Ratification. The secret technique of the Holy Knights. It was similar to the Absolute Authority, but only in the sense that it was a power given by the Empire's God, bestowed through a vessel such as an Archbishop.
However… this move came at a much greater risk.
By staking their lifespan, a Holy Knight Captain enhances their own Holy Power technique and in exchange, receives an incredible amount of power.
Eizum's lips curved into a wide grin, teeth bared in a savage expression that radiated both excitement and malice. His blood-red eyes glimmered with interest as Edwin slowly pushed himself off the ground, his breaths ragged but steady.
The Captain's battered frame seemed to hum with newfound energy as golden light erupted from his wounds. The aura surged outward like a tidal wave, sewing itself into the ground around him, the brilliance momentarily forcing Eizum to squint. Flesh knitted together under the radiant glow, and the blood that had soaked Edwin's armor evaporated in shimmering steam.
The lion's mantle on Edwin's back began to shift. It rippled, its ethereal form twisting and reshaping as the golden energy intensified. Slowly, the lion's head tilted upward, its mane flaring as if alive, before the entire form stretched and flowed. The mantle lengthened, draping itself over his shoulders and head.
What had once been a cape became a hooded cloak, the lion's visage now more lifelike, its eyes burning with an inner fire. Its massive paws seemed to sink into the ground as if the creature had stepped into reality, its golden light spreading through the frozen battlefield like veins of molten gold.
The air grew heavy with his power, the energy seeping into the earth beneath their feet. Faint cracks in the snow-covered ground glowed as his aura rooted itself, the golden light spreading in all directions. The Holy Knights, still regaining their composure, felt their spirits lift as the warmth of his power reached them, even from a distance.
Eizum's smile widened further, a spark of excitement in his crimson gaze. His silver cape coiled tighter around his shoulders as he straightened, raising his sword to meet the Captain's challenge.
"So this… is Holy Ratification. Incredible," He muttered.
Running was the easiest option. However, if he ran, he would be leaving his underlings to die— no, his friends to die. And… he would be ruining Ophelia's plan.
From the moment he saw her on that balcony, he knew she would change the world, and he knew that it wouldn't come easy. So, why would he flee now? Why would he flee when he knew the sacrifices that would come with standing with her? Why would he escape when he wanted to stand right behind her as she brought the world to her feet?
"I can't disappoint the Duchess," Edwin smiled.
At this moment in time. From this very second onward. Edwin was on par with a Radiant Knight of the highest ranks… just below a Solgrath.
But.
For each minute he used this technique, five years would be shaved off his life.
"Let's settle this quickly," He muttered, Eizum grinning back.