"Huh?"
That was the only thing I managed to say.
The king's voice echoed in my ears, but my brain lagged a full step behind.
Did he just say... execution?
Lana stepped forward, her voice sharper than usual. "Your Majesty, with respect, this—"
"—was the vote of the court," one of the advisors cut her off. "Even royalty must obey the consensus."
Lana clenched her jaw. Her hands were shaking, just barely. But she stepped back, her head lowered—not in submission, but in frustration.
That silence felt longer than the walk here.
Until someone moved.
Boots stepped forward. Light clinks of metal. Measured. Controlled.
Celyne.
She walked ahead of me like she had all the right in the world to stand there. No expression, no tremble in her voice. Just stillness that felt colder than her ice.
"I object."
One word. That was it. But somehow, the temperature dropped a few degrees.
"I've seen murderers. Assassins. Soldiers hiding bloodlust behind loyalty." Her eyes flicked across the crowd, freezing every noble mid-thought. "But this one…"
She looked back at me.
"…he doesn't carry the instincts of a killer. He doesn't fight for glory. Not even anger. Every motion he made was one of survival."
Her voice stayed calm, almost bored. But I could feel it. Like standing in front of a quiet storm.
"If this court truly believes he's a threat, then I will stake my position as Royal Guard on it. If he betrays this kingdom, take my life as well."
The entire room froze.
Even the king straightened slightly in his seat.
No one spoke. Not even the nobles whispering before.
I wanted to say something. Anything.
But all I could do was blink.
What… just happened?
The silence after Celyne's declaration was sharp enough to cut through steel.
The king leaned forward on his throne, his voice calm, but laced with something heavier beneath.
"You're one of the most important people in this empire," he said. "Are you certain you want to stake your life on this boy?"
"I am," Celyne replied. No hesitation. No emotion.
Like she was stating a fact.
Like it wasn't her own life on the line.
Gasps rippled through the room. Some nobles turned to each other in disbelief. One of the princes muttered something under his breath, but no one dared interrupt.
And then—
"I'll stake mine as well."
Every head turned.
Lana stepped forward, expression unreadable, back straight.
"If you doubt him, then place that doubt on me too. I brought him here. I trust him. I stand by that."
The court broke into chaos.
Someone from the noble seats stood up, outraged.
"She's just a girl—!"
"Reckless!"
"Madness!"
The king raised a hand, and silence slammed back into the hall like a dropped stone.
His gaze moved between the two women.
Then landed on me.
I didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Inside, I was still stuck on the same word.
Execution?
What kind of joke was this?
And now these two had just… stepped forward. In front of all these people. Risking their positions—maybe even their lives—for me?
What kind of person did that?
Just as the echoes of Lana's words faded, a voice cut through the tension.
"…I will vouch for him as well."
A ripple of surprise swept the room again.
She stood from her seat among the royal family — a young woman with ginger hair neatly braided over one shoulder, her posture calm but eyes sharp. The second princess.
"I won't go as far as staking my life," she said plainly, "but I believe his actions should speak before we pass judgment. A man who kills whispering demons and saves an entire village isn't someone to discard so lightly."
Murmurs spread. Heads turned. Some nobles looked at each other like they'd just been slapped.
Just as the murmurs continue to rise again, another voice echoed across the court — calm, but with the weight of authority behind it.
"I'll speak."
A noble stepped forward from the left side of the hall, dressed in dark blue robes marked with silver trim. His face was older, weathered by time, with sharp gray eyes that didn't blink often.
He gave a slight bow. "Duke Elric of Norhollow. The land where Riverhold stands."
The room quieted again.
"When the attack ended, I visited the village myself," he continued. "I expected ruin. What I found instead were dozens of monsters dead, some torn apart with nothing but brute strength."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"If he hadn't been there, the village wouldn't be standing. I questioned the survivors myself. They were terrified, shaken… but alive. And all of them spoke of the same person."
The duke turned to look at me, eyes narrowing slightly.
"They said he fought alone. Protected them. Not for coin, not for glory — but because no one else could. Even now, they whisper a name for him…"
He let the pause stretch, then finally said it:
"The Butcher Saint."
The words hit the room like a dropped blade.
Murmurs surged again.
"The what?" "Is that what they call him?" "A saint…?"
The duke's tone didn't shift. "I didn't come here to embellish or flatter. I came to speak the truth. If you want to execute him, then you might as well execute the only reason half my people are still alive."
He stepped back without another word.
---
Then, another voice rose — older, gruffer.
A knight.
Broad shoulders. Silver-lined armor. Red sash. He stepped forward from where he'd been standing near the wall.
"With respect, Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "I was stationed at Riverhold during the attack. It's true. The boy held the line with nothing but a stick. The villagers owe their lives to him."
Now the muttering wasn't quiet.
I didn't move.
I didn't say a word.
Inside, my mind was racing.
What was happening?
First Celyne. Then Lana. Now actual nobles and commanders?
All this because I swung a stick really hard?
My mouth was dry. The weight of the hall felt heavier than ever — not from the judgment, but from how many people had just stepped in front of it.
For me.
"I'll vouch for him," one knight said.
Then another. "So will I."
"I do."
"I do."
One by one, the voices kept coming. Quiet, then louder. A ripple through the crowd.
I turned, slowly. Faces I barely remembered. Some I did.
They were the ones I'd traveled with. The knights from the carriage. The ones who kept sneaking glances at me like I might sprout horns mid-ride.
Now they were stepping forward—for me?
I didn't get it.
Would they really risk themselves… for someone like me?
For a guy who barely understood this world? Who couldn't use magic? Who carried a broken stick and wore silence like armor?
I swallowed hard.
I didn't know what I was supposed to feel. Gratitude? Guilt?
But for a second, just a second, I didn't feel like I was standing alone.
The king's grin spread wide, sharp and fierce—like he'd just uncovered a spark that could ignite the whole empire.
"Well," he said, voice smooth, "it seems we have a decision."
He tapped his fingers on the armrest. "Ark will serve directly under Princess Lana—as her personal knight."
The room went quiet.
I blinked. Personal knight? That was… something else.
Lana's expression stayed calm, but I caught a flicker in her eyes.
Celyne's gaze locked on me, steady.
Guess I wasn't getting a break anytime soon.
---
The king nodded slowly. "Very well. This matter is settled."
The room began to stir — whispers, quiet footsteps, nobles exchanging looks. The tension lifted, but the weight of what happened still hung in the air.
Lana didn't say much. She just turned and gestured for me to follow. Celyne was already waiting by the door, silent as always.
We walked through the quiet halls, the echo of our steps the only sound.
After a while, Lana glanced at Celyne, then back at me, her voice low, almost like she wasn't sure if she should say it.
"You know… Celyne was supposed to be my personal knight once," she said, as if mentioning the weather.
Celyne's lips twitched, but she didn't say a word.
Lana kept walking, like she'd let it slip by accident.
I froze for a second, then finally said, "But she's the royal guard commander now?"
Lana's smile was soft, but there was something tired behind it.
"Yeah. Busy keeping this place from falling apart."
I looked at Celyne. The way she stood — quiet, serious, and a little bit like she was holding back — made me realize there was a lot more under the surface.
We kept walking down the hall. Celyne's voice broke the silence, low and serious.
"If you're going to be my princess's personal knight, you at least need to learn the politics around here."
I blinked. "Politics? Seriously?"
Lana's grin spread wide. "She's right. Can't have you stumbling into every mess."
Celyne gave me a sharp look, but didn't say more.
I shrugged. "Guess I've got a new homework."
Lana teased, "Looks like someone's jealous."
Celyne didn't bite back. Just kept walking, but I caught the way her jaw tightened.
And I just realized that celyne talk a lot more now.
---
Finally.
We arrived back at the palace just as the sun dipped low. The halls were quieter now, shadows stretching long across the stone floors.
"Thanks,for vouching for me. Even though we barley know each others."
Lana gave a small nod, her usual composure cracked by a faint tiredness.
"I can at least tell that you are actually a good guy."
Celyne was stiff, but the tight line of her mouth softened just a bit.
"Goodnight, I am reallyyyyyy tired now." Lana said, her voice low but warm.
"Rest well." Celyne echoed without looking at me.
Mina appeared beside me silently, standing just outside my room. She didn't say much, just a brief smile that somehow felt like reassurance.
I barely managed a nod before I sank onto the bed. The weight of everything settled on my shoulders.
My eyes focused on the ceiling, breath slowing, the world growing heavy and distant.
Mina lingered a moment by the door, watching quietly, before stepping out and closing it softly behind her.
Eyelids heavy, blinking less and less. The world tilted, senses dulling like the last notes of a song drifting away.
Then everything went black.
---
My eyes opened slowly. Darkness wrapped around me like a thick blanket.
Shapes began to take form—vast shadows stretching in every direction.
The air was cold. Silent. Heavy with something I couldn't name.
I sat up carefully, every sound sharp in the quiet.
Something felt… off. Like time itself was holding its breath...
I was standing on solid ground. But it wasn't like any place I'd seen before.
Ahead, a massive gate stood tall—black stone etched with faint glowing runes, ancient and mysterious.
I shifted, turning back.
The ground beneath my feet… just disappeared.
Not a crack, not a shadow—just empty nothingness stretching out in every direction.
A void.
Cold air brushed past me.
The silence felt heavy, almost alive.
Was this a dream?
I pinched my arm, waiting for a sting, but nothing changed.
This had to be real.
A strange chill ran down my spine.
The gate before me led somewhere. Somewhere important?
I walked up to the castle. Ancient, worn down, like it swallowed centuries whole.
In the castle garden, a statue of a woman holding a huge clock stood in silence.
Near the statue was a box — looked like a donation box or something.
A few steps away, smack in the middle of this old place, was a slot machine.
I stared at it for a second. Yeah, a slot machine. Inside a freaking castle.
No coins or tickets needed. Just a lever.
I pulled it. The machine whirred, ticking down — one spin left.
Then I won.
A single coin dropped out.
I picked it up. Turned it over.
Dropped it in the box Infront of the statue.
The giant clock behind the statue started spinning like some prize wheel.
The clock spun.
Slow at first. A deep, mechanical groan echoed through the garden as the massive gears turned behind the statue. The hands ticked forward with unnatural weight — not like a normal clock, but like fate itself grinding into motion.
Then it stopped.
7 PM.
A loud click echoed out.
The center of the clock split open with a hiss, revealing a small compartment embedded within the statue's chest. Inside it was a single object.
A book.
Bound in faded leather, with golden edges that pulsed faintly with light. Dustless. Untouched. As if it had been waiting just for me.
I stepped forward.
My fingers brushed the cover. The moment I touched it, I felt something stir — not magic exactly, but presence. Like a pair of unseen eyes blinking awake.
I opened the book.
The book was mostly blank.
I flipped through page after page—nothing but empty sheets.
I was about to close it, feeling a little stupid for bothering, when something caught my eye.
A faint shimmer on one page.
Slowly, black ink began to spread across the paper, as if someone—or something—was writing it in real time.
I blinked. Sat still. Watched the words appear, curling and twisting into shapes.
---
"There are beings that exist beyond all understanding."
"Not gods. Not spirits."
"They are called Outer Gods."
"Their presence alone can drive a person mad."
"They bend reality itself, like water."
---
The ink moved again.
"Long ago, there were True Gods."
"They watched over the universe—protecting it from chaos and destruction."
"When the Outer Gods grew too strong and dangerous, the True Gods cast them away—banishing them into the endless void known as the Chaos Dimension."
"Within the Chaos Dimension, the Outer Gods created their own worlds—tiny universes filled with horrors."
"Such worlds like these couldn't be peaceful but rather a place of monsters and madness."
---
The words shifted again.
"Many beings from Earth's myths—like those you know—were once powerful entities."
"They grew proud, rushing to reach fake godhoods."
"But their arrogance and chaotic nature led the True Gods to banish them to the Chaos Dimension as well."
---
A new line appeared, written slower this time.
"Among the True Gods was one unlike any other."
"The Goddess of Time."
"She was boundless—beyond reality itself."
"The last protector standing."
---
Then the ink grew darker.
"But there was a force even she could not fully stop."
"A nameless terror—the end of all things,
THE NAMELESS END."
"It consumed both outer gods and the True Gods, one by one."
"In her final act, the Goddess of Time slowed this terror."
"But the effort cost her everything."
"She shattered herself—scattering 10 fragments of her essence across the universe."
---
I stared at the page.
The line faded slowly into a glowing green crystal—just like the ones I have.
Then the ink twisted again, curling in on itself, forming words that weren't meant for just anyone.
---
"You who bear her shard…"
"The one who will walks between broken timelines…"
"You are not yet ready."
"But you will be."
---
My throat tightened. What?
I wasn't reading anymore.
It was talking. To me.
The words pulsed faintly, glowing against the page like they were burning themselves into my eyes.
I leaned in.
---
"You are the final error."
"The last hope of a world already falling."
"Do not seek the godness of time."
"You have already been found."
---
I blinked.
My hands trembled slightly.
"What the hell does that—"
But I didn't even get to finish the thought.
The book shuddered in my grip.
Then the pages went black.
The entire thing crumbled into ashes between my fingers—silent, weightless, like it had never existed at all.