Lance turned slowly. After weighing her in a silence thick as mist, he dropped to one knee.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Miss Shadia.”

“Good. Your manners are proper. No wonder my knights didn’t keep you outside. Rise.”

She nodded, pleased, then her gaze slid to the painting Lance had been studying.

“Human, that’s Master Locke’s ‘Birth of the Sacred Spirit.’”

The piece was exquisitely lifelike, oil gleaming like dew at dawn.

Rags-clad humans and a town trampled by Dark Spirits filled the backdrop, bleak as winter fields.

Above, stormclouds once packed the sky, but pure light punched a clean hole through the gloom.

From that opening, a great, sinewed arm reached down, a hand lowering something to the earth.

The thing in its palm was wrapped in the same holy radiance. Dark Spirits scattered, terror in their eyes. Humans knelt, joy breaking like sunlight.

The hand cradled an infant of the Celestial Race.

“Fine work,” Lance said, brief as a blade.

The beautiful Celestial woman named Shadia seemed stung by such a clipped verdict.

She walked toward the painting, voice sanctified and unassailable, like bells through frost. “The Celestials are the world’s saviors, the Light Deity’s most beloved children. That love from the divine seals our mission. We will be the masters of this world.”

Lance kept his counsel. He stayed on one knee, holding posture like a shield.

Joy warmed Liya’s voice as she stepped forward. “Master, it’s so good to see you safe!”

Lance rose. Liya took his place and knelt.

“I feel the same, Liya. Lift your head.”

Then, a cool command, still gentle yet edged with rank. “But Liya, you left your Garrison Knight duties to come to me. You must have urgent news. Come in.”

Liya’s eyes shone even under awe. “Yes!”

The three entered a room that served both living and work. Simple furniture. Yet with Shadia’s collection, simplicity wore a robe of luxury.

Two Celestial Knights guarded the door.

Once inside, Liya reported first on Zofikal, then on Shelika.

At the first, Shadia exhaled relief. “Good. You recovered Zofikal. The royal family has no grounds to blame you. The Silver Moon Forest lot can hold their tongues. I won’t need to worry and rush to this city.”

Liya bowed her head, shame like rain. “It’s disgraceful. As a knight, I made my master worry…”

“What royal doesn’t cherish their own? Chin up.”

“Yes!”

At the second, Shadia’s surprise ripened into delight. “Liya, you actually did it! A priest of the Dark Spirit Empire, and a Blood Clan insider at that! Excellent. We’ll have more leverage in the council now.”

She was about to continue, but the roar outside the church swelled like surf.

“Down with Celestial privilege! Down with Elven favoritism!”

The clamor furrowed Shadia’s brow. Her glance turned sharp at the two Celestial Knights by the door.

They looked at each other, went pale, and bowed. “Our apologies!”

They hurried to shut the nearby window.

It sealed the noise like a lid; the world outside fell away.

Shadia picked up the thread, gaze sliding past Liya to Lance. “But Liya, you brought a human to tell me all this. What do you want? Permission to make him your personal attendant? Just don’t play too rough.”

Liya’s suspicion flared. Her face flushed red, then she shook her head hard. “That’s not it!”

“It’s actually—”

She laid out how most of the credit belonged to Lance.

“I’m surprised, but it makes sense. So you want me to reward him?”

“No, actually—”

She told how the new imperial law left Lance unpaid for his due.

“That’s improper,” Shadia said, sympathy like a soft veil, but her stance snapped hard beneath it.

“I won’t overturn a royal requisition. Passing a law shows royal influence. Enforcing it proves royal power. Even five hundred years on, the empire is full of dissent. I watch it always. You must understand…”

She spoke her worry for the Heavenly Spirit Empire, and offered the tidy thinking that made its burdens sound reasonable.

Liya’s protest for Lance dulled, like embers under ash.

Lance, watching, stepped forward, anger long-chained now straining free. “So the royal family won’t return it, is that it?”

Respect was gone from his tone, heat hidden until it burned through.

Shadia’s brows knit at his words. The door guards drew steel with a hiss like winter wind.

“Bold!”

“Just a human—how dare you speak to our master like that!”

Every knight there outclassed Lance. Maybe knowing that, he eased one step back, cold iron air licking his skin.

“Enough.” Shadia’s hand cut the air. The blades slid back to sheaths.

She faced Lance and smiled, light over water. “Human knight, I said I won’t rescind the requisition. I didn’t say I won’t compensate.”

“Compensate? How?”

“You’re a Blazing Fire Knight of the Doran Kingdom. If you trumpet a royal requisition, our prestige will take a hit. And you’ve done quite a bit. But the Feng Wolf Knight’s three hundred million is no small sum. So—”

Shadia drew a gold-foiled sheet from a drawer, lifted a pen glowing with spell-light, and wrote characters Lance couldn’t read.

She slid the sheet across. Lance picked it up, wary as a cat at a stream.

“This is a check for one hundred million gold coins. One of the three hundred million. I’ll pay it in cash, in my personal capacity.”

Lance’s eyes went wide. He quickly tucked the check away, heartbeat drumming like hoofbeats.

Next, Shadia took out a document, wrote, then signed.

“A sovereign bond from the Imperial Bank. Another hundred million. Compensated by the empire’s citizens.”

Lance wasn’t happy, but he kept it. A bond is still a bond.

“Lastly—” Shadia dangled the words. Lance swallowed, throat dry as sand.

“I’ll give you the Feng Wolf Knight’s secret treasure. Someone—bring it down.”

They descended to the basement. It was wide, airy, dotted with spell-lamps, bright as noon.

This had once been a crypt. Niches for urns and bodies. The church’s function had ended; it lived now as a storehouse.

In the center stood a massive crate, two by four by two meters.

Lance frowned at it. “That’s the Feng Wolf Knight’s secret treasure?”

He’d never heard of such a thing. The Feng Wolf Marquis had said nothing. He suspected a trick—some oversized antique, foisted to be rid of it.

Shadia’s tone stayed solemn. “It exists. A product of ancient elven alchemy—”

The Celestial Knights levered off a side panel. Wood fell away. Light washed in. The darkness peeled back.

“What is—?!” Lance’s voice caught, shock hurled against speech.

Fulin, the one playing Lance, had memories from a past life. She knew what she saw. A towering, piloted war machine. A knight’s mech. Why would Nordland have this?

Shadia continued, a tide of calm. “Its name is the Eternal War Armor. A gift from the Elven King to the Feng Wolf Knight. It lets a knight unleash beyond themselves, and rule a battlefield with ease.”

As she spoke, the Eternal War Armor showed a mind of its own. The crate opened. Its dim eyes flared crimson, like embers awakened. It stepped out—each stride a thud, each step shaking the floor.

“For the final hundred million, by royal grant, you may own this treasure.”

She had a title deed brought over. Lance read it, found no traps, and signed.

The Eternal War Armor truly seemed aware. It grasped the moment, fixed its gaze on Lance, and held there. Acceptance, silent as stone.

There was no time to test the thing. They swept back into the church’s depths to continue the talk.

Shadia said, “Well, knight? Is the empire’s compensation to your liking? You humans have a saying—rich enough to rival a nation. You now have three hundred million in gold.”

Truth be told, Lance wasn’t thrilled. Only one hundred million was hard cash. The other two felt slippery.

A bond bleeds under inflation. Hold it long, and that hundred million thins like watered wine.

As for the Eternal War Armor, Fulin’s first shock cooled into worry. A machine demands upkeep. A car drinks gas; a horse eats hay. What feeds this armor?

And why would Shadia hand it over? Rule rides on the barrel of a gun. The higher you sit, the more steel you need close. Wouldn’t she keep it for her own knights? Is there another game she’s playing? Or is the armor half-dead, a relic without breath?

Still, she was waiting on his reaction. This was the Heavenly Spirit Empire. She sat high. He couldn’t bare dissatisfaction. Fulin’s worst-case was a broken promise. That hadn’t happened. And the cash—one hundred million—was real as weight.

“It’ll do,” Lance said, a measured verdict.

“Greedy human,” Shadia murmured, seeing the shadow in his eyes.

“Fantastic, Lance!” Liya’s joy sprang like a bird from a cage.

Shadia looked at them both, about to speak, when the window shook with noise again.

“Down with Celestial privilege! Down with Elven favoritism!” The window was sealed well, but the march rolled past the church’s rear. A boil of voices still seeped in.

It faded fast. Shadia pressed on. “Well then, human knight. Ever think of serving the empire?”

“Why recruit me? I’m just human. My strength doesn’t touch your knights. I’m a mere Charge Knight.”

Shadia’s smile held a different color. “A mere Charge Knight… I think you have Earth Tier and beyond. Sky Rank potential, even. If not strength, then potential, fine—”

Lance listened, quiet as snowfall.

“Human knight, I won’t spoil the mood. Do you want to waste your life meaninglessly on some battlefield, or—for the empire, and for yourself—let your life be sung?”

Lance’s eyes widened. “Not invoking a knight’s honor?”

Her smile set his nerves on edge, like being seen through. “A knight’s honor doesn’t serve you, does it?”

Liya turned, apologetic. “Sorry, Lance. I told my master about you.”

“I see.” Relief slipped in, but tension stayed, a string still taut.

Shadia’s tone grew more tempting. “Blazing Fire Knight, if you live only for yourself, you can shed your human stance entirely. I have terms the Doran Kingdom will never match. Not a bad choice, is it?”

Her words were honeyed and heavy. Lance almost stepped into them. “Sounds good.”

Liya beamed. “That’s wonderful, Lance!”

It was, on paper, a fine path. From a human knight’s seat, nothing looked better.

Even so, Lance said, “I’ll have to refuse.”

“Why?!” Shadia hadn’t expected the blade to turn.

“Because—” He closed his eyes. A heartbeat stretched, and the Republic flashed through his mind.

Cruel, cold killings. Partings that tore and healed. Many scenes, one river. They all emptied into a single shore.

“Because I want a quiet life,” Lance said.