Chapter 80: Steel That Waits
The cold winds swept across the barren battlefield, leaving a thick layer of ash in their wake. Blood soaked into the earth, dark and viscous, mixing with the remnants of broken weapons and discarded armor.
The cries of the fallen echoed in the distance, but Siegfried stood still, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His expression, usually calm and disciplined, now bore the weight of something far deeper—a quiet turmoil that had taken root in his heart.
The mission had been simple: eliminate a small group of rogue Devils who had been terrorizing innocent villages along the border. Their destruction was necessary, the Church had said. A righteous cause, a matter of divine justice.
But as Siegfried looked down at the slain Devils—many of whom had been unarmed, many of whom had begged for their lives—something inside him had broken. He had been ordered to slaughter them all. But he had hesitated.
One of them—a young Devil, no older than sixteen—had looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, pleading for mercy. Siegfried had hesitated, his sword hovering over the boy's chest.
It was the first time he had questioned the righteousness of his cause. The first time the line between good and evil had blurred in his mind.
He had walked away from the battlefield without finishing the job. The Church's orders had been clear: leave no survivors. But Siegfried could not bring himself to kill the helpless.
Not anymore. The light of his sword, once so pure and unwavering, now felt cold and hollow in his grip.
And so, he had returned to the Church's headquarters, leaving the mission incomplete.
His actions would not go unnoticed. His failure to follow orders would be scrutinized, but at this moment, it felt like the only choice he had left.
As he entered the dimly lit chambers of his quarters, he was greeted by silence.
The walls were lined with symbols of the Church's authority, their grandeur serving as a reminder of the ideals he had once sworn to uphold. But now, they felt oppressive. They felt like chains.
A knock at the door broke his reverie, and before he could respond, the door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was Jeanne, her expression unreadable but her eyes filled with concern.
"You're back early," she said, her voice soft but carrying an underlying tension.
Siegfried didn't answer right away. Instead, he sat heavily on the edge of his bed, his fingers brushing against the hilt of his sword, still stained with the blood of those he had failed to kill. He was silent for a long moment, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.
"I couldn't do it," he finally said, his voice low, almost a whisper.
"I couldn't kill them. Not like that. They were... they were defenseless."
Jeanne's eyes softened, and she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. "I don't blame you," she said quietly, kneeling beside him.
"The Church... they've changed. They're not what they once were. And I see it in you. I see the doubt."
Siegfried looked at her, his expression a mixture of guilt and frustration.
"I was trained to be a weapon. A soldier. But now, when I look at those I'm supposed to fight, I see them as people. I can't keep pretending they're just enemies to be slain without question."
Jeanne remained silent for a moment, her gaze unwavering.
"Then it's time to choose. You can no longer serve a cause you no longer believe in."
Siegfried looked away, his hand gripping the sword tighter.
"I can't just walk away. I don't know what else to do."
Jeanne stood, her gaze steady and resolute. "You'll figure it out. But if you're going to change, you need to make that choice for yourself, not because of orders or fear. The Church won't change for you. But you can."
Siegfried nodded, his eyes flickering with something close to resolve. "I'll think about it."
Jeanne gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod, then turned and left the room, leaving Siegfried alone with his thoughts.
Back in his chambers, Volundr sat before his War Journal, the soft glow of the magical scrying orb illuminating his face.
He had been observing Siegfried's actions from afar—patiently watching the subtle cracks in his loyalty. The reports were beginning to paint a clear picture. The once unwavering knight was starting to question his orders, beginning to show signs of doubt.
Too soon, Volundr mused silently. But not unexpected.
Siegfried's disillusionment was evident. The seed of rebellion had been planted, and Volundr had a keen sense for when loyalty began to waver.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen a warrior falter in the face of a broken cause. But it was the first time he'd seen it in someone with Siegfried's potential.
He dipped his quill into the ink, writing swiftly and decisively in his journal.
Subject: Siegfried. Psychological Profile: Highly disciplined, initially unwavering loyalty. Current status: Disillusioned. Potential: Knight or special combat asset—under review.
He paused for a moment, his quill hovering over the page, then added a personal note.
"When his loyalty dies, I'll be ready."
The words lingered in his mind. Siegfried's disillusionment was not a weakness—it was an opportunity. And Volundr had no intention of letting it slip away. He had already planned for this eventuality.
.
If Siegfried's faith in the Church cracked beyond repair, Volundr would be there to offer a new path. A path that promised more than mere obedience—a path where his talents could flourish.
But that would take time. Patience.
For now, Volundr set the journal aside, his mind already turning toward the next phase of his plan.
Siegfried would need time to come to his own conclusions. But when the day came that Siegfried's loyalty finally shattered, Volundr would be there, waiting with open hands.
Siegfried stood before the mirror in his quarters, his eyes tracing the familiar outline of his reflection.
The knight he saw was still the same—strong, proud, and disciplined. But something inside him had changed. The image of the helpless Devils, the fear in their eyes as they begged for mercy—it haunted him. He could no longer ignore it.
And in that silence, in that moment of stillness, Siegfried made a decision.
He was no longer the Church's knight. He was something more.
The question was no longer if he would break free, but when.
End of Chapter 80.