What does the word "knight" truly mean?
What does it represent?
In countless works of literature, knights seldom appear as villains.
And when it comes to fairy tales, their virtues are often magnified to almost mythical proportions —including but not limited to: humility, honor, sacrifice, bravery, compassion, honesty, justice, and spirituality.
At first glance, one might be tempted to scoff:
"Ah, here comes the 'goody-two-shoes' again. Always poking their nose where it doesn't belong, meddling in every trivial matter."
But the reality is quite different.
The term 'saintly bitch', though often used as a derogatory label in modern slang, refers not to genuine compassion, but to those who lack the ability or willingness to help themselves, yet hypocritically demand that others do — all while standing smugly upon their self-appointed moral high ground.
They use the interests, and even the lives of others , as currency to buy their own sense of kindness and moral superiority.
In essence, they force others to pay the price — with their time, resources, or even safety — so that they can feel morally righteous.
That is not virtue. That is moral extortion disguised as charity.
On the other hand, the term"saintly", when used in its true, positive sense, refers to someone who, when faced with suffering or injustice, does not hesitate to lend a helping hand.
They offer not just words, but their own strength, their own resources, and their own actions to support and uplift others.
Such individuals embody genuine altruism, and their actions are driven not by the desire for recognition or reward, but by a sincere wish to alleviate the burdens of others.
They don't sacrifice others for their own peace of mind.
Instead, they put themselves on the line — using their own efforts and sacrifices, not someone else's, to make a difference.
And here's the irony:
If you were to speak ill of such a person, people would likely respond:
"You're just saying that because you can't do what they do. You have no right to judge them."
You may think they're foolish.
But in truth, everyone else sees it clearly: you're the one who has no right to call them 'foolish' or 'saintly in a bad way.'
Because unlike them, you did nothing. You offered no help. You only criticized.
So, what does the knight truly symbolize?
Not just a warrior in shining armor.
Not just a hero who slays dragons.
But a symbol of chosen virtue — someone who, despite knowing the cost, chooses to stand for something greater than themselves.
Someone who embodies not just strength, but integrity. Not just courage, but compassion. Not just power, but responsibility.
In fairy tales, these virtues may seem idealized — even exaggerated.
But perhaps that's not a weakness of the story…
Perhaps it's a reflection of what humanity aspires to be.
Nanshan walked along a forest path.
Birds passing by would greet him as he went by.
Even the ants scurrying across the ground — their tiny voices somehow reached his ears.
He crouched down, pulled out a piece of bread, and broke off a few crumbs to leave for the hardworking ants.
As he did, he heard the praising chirps of birds and the rustling words of squirrels nearby.
At the same time, a number of stat points began to rise.
And amidst it all, Nanshan found himself lost in thought — contemplating one ultimate question.
That question could be broken down into roughly five stages:
A rainy night. Crossing a road. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Then... people arrived. And he received a cheat — an "external power"
But let's set that aside for now and return to the matter of the cheat.
These cheats gave Nanshan a headache.
Their usage was simple.
He had become something like a knight — a knight straight out of a fairy tale.
But here was the problem:
Even an ordinary person has selfishness.
Desires.
Half of the so-called virtues of a knight are nearly impossible to uphold.
Let alone those of a knight from a fairy tale.
If it weren't for the incentives — if there weren't some kind of reward for doing these things — Nanshan wouldn't bother.
It was all just hard work for little return.
Completely thankless.
But when he helped ordinary people, what he got in return were just a few stat points, or maybe some small items — copper coins, gold coins, and the like.
And then, there were the times he helped the main characters of the stories themselves.
The rewards for those were far more extraordinary — things like the ability to hear the Voice of All Things, or even earning a Knight's Oath.
But as Nanshan recalled, both of those particular instances… had something to do with a wolf.
The first time, it was The Three Little Pigs.
The wolf in that story? Straightforward and brutal.
He smashed the houses — one, two, three — and went in to devour the pigs.
The solution?
Simple.
Nanshan stepped in and punched the wolf — just once. Problem solved.
The second time, it involved a rabbit — or at least, something along those lines.
The classic setup: the wolf, clever as ever, disguised himself and knocked on the door.
But once again, the resolution followed the same pattern.
Nanshan didn't hesitate.
He punched the wolf square in the face — hard enough to knock him out cold, sending the predator straight into a deep, peaceful sleep.
And the rewards he got for helping out these little storybook creatures?
Plentiful.
Not to mention, the storylines themselves were so straightforward, so classically simple, that you'd immediately know which world they were from.
Still, Nanshan knew he had to stay cautious.
He was supposed to be playing the role of a knight in a children's fairy tale — noble, kind, protective.
But here's the catch: there are many versions of fairy tales.
Some are sanitized children's books.
Some are the original, darker versions.
And then there are all kinds of adaptations, reimaginings, and twisted retellings.
Helping ordinary folks — like the ants or the birds — would usually get him some stat points, maybe a few coins, perhaps a copper or two.
But when it came to helping the main characters of the actual stories, the returns were far more significant.
Real power. Real rewards.
So whether it was to uphold some ideal of knightly virtue, or simply to gain more strength and abilities…
Nanshan had no choice but to set out.
To explore the world.
To jump into tales, to test his strength, and to uncover what kind of rewards — or challenges — lay waiting in each story.
After all…
Who in their right mind would say no to "power"?