The resplendent palace, gilded in splendor, was the headquarters of the Supreme Court of the Lyan Empire. James Watson, the editor-in-chief of *Legendary Curse*, sat at his desk, meticulously reviewing a stack of reports.
Perhaps, at this moment, it would be more appropriate to address him as His Excellency, the Supreme Arbiter of the Lyan Empire.
The role of editor-in-chief was but a secondary duty for James Watson. His primary responsibility lay in judging the heretics within the empire.
The sole legitimate faith in the Lyan Empire was that of the Lord of Dawn. Any other form of worship, any practice devoted to foreign deities, was deemed heretical.
Recently, as the Lyan Empire expanded its borders, many newly acquired free peoples struggled to adjust to the rigorous religious laws, still clinging to their old faiths.
However, these were human beings—fellow citizens who could be enlightened. James Watson did not hastily condemn them to the stake but carefully studied the investigative reports sent to him. He devised tailored religious campaigns for each new region, assessing the unique circumstances of their belief systems.
Whether through persuasion or severity, his methods were always clear and effective.
Such tasks, though seemingly overwhelming, were second nature to James Watson, a devout believer who had risen from the ranks of a humble parish priest. He was confident that in a few years, the inhabitants of these newly conquered lands would become steadfast adherents of the Light.
What others might take days or even weeks to resolve, James Watson could accomplish in mere hours. It was this efficiency that solidified his position as the Supreme Arbiter.
Once his official duties were complete, he would turn his attention to his editorial tasks. He treated this side work as a form of amusement, skimming through heretical submissions, gleefully rejecting them. For him, it was a delightful game.
He casually wrote rejections on several articles submitted by dwarves and elves when one peculiar piece caught his eye.
*"My Paladin Friend, Alan: A Brief Discussion on the Impact of Faith on the Youth."*
"What is this nonsense?"
At the sight of this title, James Watson immediately recognized it as a submission from the *Legendary Curse*'s supplement—pieces often filled with gossip and fabricated stories that were currently quite fashionable. Watson usually paid little attention to such content, as no matter how popular it became, it could never match the influence of the main publication.
In fact, he even hoped the heretics would continue to write for the supplement, descending further into decadence, allowing *Legendary Curse* to remain a true academic treasure of human magic. Thus, his approval of the supplement was generally lax, and he would usually pass submissions with a mere cursory glance.
But the title—"Paladin Alan"?
James Watson's gaze shifted to the author's name: William Harvey. An unfamiliar name, likely a pseudonym or a person of little renown.
After reading only the opening lines, James Watson's expression darkened.
The Supreme Arbiter furrowed his brow and rubbed his ring. A glowing screen appeared before him, but instead of the usual clear image, all he saw was a mass of flickering static.
This was supposed to be his communication ring, linked to his son, Alan Watson. It allowed them to communicate anywhere, at any time. But now, the connection was lost.
This article could not be a fabrication. His son, Alan Watson, had indeed been captured—by a lich, no less.
James Watson grabbed the article once again and read through it carefully. His face turned a shade of iron-grey.
The piece painted him as a mad, fanatical zealot, accusing him of brainwashing his son with twisted doctrines of the Light. It depicted inhumane methods of torturing both the body and the mind.
Had this been merely a distortion of facts, James Watson would have been unbothered. He had endured countless slanders and attacks throughout his life—one more article would not affect him.
What truly enraged him, however, was the author's analysis of the faith of the Lord of Dawn. Through the eyes of an observer, the article suggested that the Lord of Dawn was not much different from other gods. The doctrines of the Light and the natural gods were strikingly similar; the methods of their followers mirrored one another. Even their enemies seemed alike: both loathed the undead. Yet, the followers of the Lord of Dawn were far more xenophobic than the Druids.
The author argued that this was a blasphemy against the Lord of Dawn, a misrepresentation of the Light's teachings. It claimed that the Lyan Empire, under this twisted faith, was breeding countless tragedies and conflicts—an outcome caused by James Watson's own personal ambitions.
This angle of analysis was particularly unsettling for James Watson. The Lyan Empire had been actively expanding its borders, and with that came the inevitability of war. Though the article's argument was weak and lacking substance, it was steeped in conspiracy theories—ideas that the public loved to consume.
James Watson knew that once this article was published, such conspiracies would spread like wildfire, and the Lyan Empire would be embroiled in a damaging public relations battle. It might not alter the outcome of the battlefield, but it would certainly create unfavorable circumstances.
However, if he refused to publish this article, his son, Alan, would likely lose his life.
"Why did he go to Alchemy City instead of Silvermoon Court? This foolish boy—did he really believe in that ridiculous prophecy?"
James Watson seethed with rage. Alan had been sent out for training, with a clear path laid before him. Yet, the boy had likely changed plans and ventured to Alchemy City on his own.
The prophecy of a godly artifact hidden within the sewers of Alchemy City had long been circulating in the Lyan Empire. However, as a legendary figure, James Watson dismissed it as nothing more than superstition. Alan, though no fool, had no reason to fall for such nonsense.
But dwelling on that now was futile.
"Foolish! Reckless! Completely unaware of his own limits..." James Watson muttered angrily.
The article had made one thing clear: to save Alan's life, he would have to publish it and respond with a ransom offer. The ransom was trivial—just a few million gold coins—but the impact on the empire would be catastrophic. The article could never be allowed to see the light of day, or he would be a traitor to the empire.
After a moment of deep contemplation, James Watson spoke with a voice heavy with sorrow. "Alan, forgive me."
He placed his palm upon a crystal embedded in the desk. A flash of sacred light, and a paladin clad in silver-white armor appeared before him, kneeling respectfully.
"Supreme Arbiter, what is your command?"
"Select ten from the Judgment Knights and head to Alchemy City to find my son, Alan. If he is alive, do everything in your power to rescue him. If not, eliminate the lich who captured him. Be cautious—you're likely to face a legendary undead."
The paladin responded with unwavering confidence, "Do not worry, my lord. The Judgment Knights were formed precisely to deal with legends. The disgrace of that day will not be repeated."
At the mention of that past disgrace, James Watson couldn't help but recall the old legend—before he was born, the Lyan Empire had sent an entire Paladin Legion to hunt down a headless knight. The outcome was disastrous; the Paladins suffered severe casualties, and the headless knight escaped, disappearing beyond the empire's borders.
That event, etched into the Empire's Pillar of Shame, had led to the creation of the Judgment Knights, a force specifically designed to combat legendary undead. Unfortunately, the older generation of Paladins never had the chance to avenge that dishonor, all of them long since claimed by the afterlife. The new generation of Judgment Knights had trained relentlessly, dreaming of one day avenging their predecessors.
Although the undead they faced might not be the same foe as the one from the past, this battle against a legendary undead would be a challenge the Judgment Knights had long awaited.
Let this undead soul be a sacrifice to the Lord of Dawn, that the evil spirit might be purified.
James Watson rose, clenching his fist. "Remember—no matter what terms the enemy offers, do not agree. The Lyan Empire never bows to threats."
"Understood, Supreme Arbiter."
End of Chapter