"Then why insist on hunting the Evil Entity with me? Keep that pendant for yourself; don’t pour water on stone here."

Lucimia felt his choice was strange, like a fish swimming upstream.

"It's because..." Ritch tucked the pendant away and gripped his sword, knuckles pale as frost.

"Because?"

"Because my father got this pendant and gave it to me at once. He saved a Purification Knight, so those cultists of evil marked him. In the end, he was..." Ritch’s voice guttered like a dying candle.

He sighed, a long wind leaving the reeds. "That’s why I want to be a Purification Knight, to avenge him. I joined the town soldiers under the Exorcist Family. They say if you perform well and want it, the Lancelot Family will recommend you to the Church to become a Purification Knight. That’s my plan."

Ritch laid his motive out, like stones set on a table.

A note hung in the air like a fork in the road: in this world, soldier-guards and Holy Knights are two different callings.

Soldier-guards are the regular army. They hold the city gates like shields, fight mundane foes, and beasts untouched by Evil Entities.

Holy Knights are different. They’re torches meant for the dark.

"So you’ll spend that precious pendant, fight the Evil Entity with me, earn merit, and I’ll recommend you. Then you’ll likely become a Purification Knight?" Lucimia tugged the hidden thread of his plan like a hand drawing silk.

Ritch answered, "Yes," steady as a nailed plank.

Huh... All right. So he carries an arrow under his cloak after all.

It also explains how, in the first loop, he spotted the issue with the wound and suspected an Evil Entity, eyes like hawks for rot, a wolf hungry for merit to join the Purification Knights.

Do I let him come? Her heart swung like a pendulum between steel and mist.

Lucimia wavered, doubt drifting like cold fog. Maybe not. What if he can’t win?

He wasn’t crucial. She didn’t want extra weight in her boat.

But she wouldn’t push a lamb into the wolf’s den when the path ahead looked thorny.

Another worry: Ritch’s blade might be soft for the coming storm.

Not the octopus; she feared he couldn’t match Cole.

Thinking it through, in the first loop, when Cole trapped Lucimia, he should’ve gauged her strength through the Blue Ringed Octopus, whispers carried through coral.

Even then, Cole felt bold enough to hunt her, a tiger behind a smile. His true prowess wasn’t small.

Wait. If so... bringing Ritch might be fine. One more oar steadies the river.

While Lucimia weighed the scales, Ritch grew anxious, drumbeats in his chest. He blurted, "Relax, I won’t slow you down. I’m a third‑tier Swordmaster. I’ve got basic combat power. Some church Purification Knights are only second‑tier."

A pause hung, like a held breath.

Seeing her still hesitate, Ritch offered a lantern in the fog. "I won’t trouble you. I’ll support and clear obstacles. You handle Cole. Is that okay?"

Lucimia breathed out, wind leaving a sail.

Weighing gains and losses, he could net the small octopus. Its true power wasn’t high; Ritch should manage.

It sounded long, but the talk slid by like rain over tiles, only minutes.

They couldn’t stall. They had to catch Cole fast, arrows chasing the wind.

"Fine... but you follow my lead." Her tone tapped iron to stone.

With the current against her, Lucimia agreed, a reed bending to the stream.

"Great!" Ritch gripped his sword, moonlight whitening his knuckles.

"Move first. Talk later." Lucimia tapped her toes and rose like a feather on a breeze.

Ritch stared, eyes wide as lanterns. "So the Lancelot Family’s young lady isn’t the rumored... ignorant and incompetent? Makes sense. Nobles train their children like sharpening blades. That gossip must be smoke. You’re already a real Holy Knight, right? As expected of the Lancelot Family’s lady!"

Ritch rattled on in one breath, words scattering like sparrows.

Lucimia didn’t know where to start, her thoughts a tangled thread.

"Ignorant and incompetent? What nonsense." She hadn’t studied Dark Deity lore, thorns she’d left on the shelf—but her magic ran like rivers.

And a Holy Knight? That cloak wasn’t hers.

She ignored him and flicked a spell, threads of light lifting Ritch with her.

"Th‑this is amazing." He watched his feet leave the earth and rise to her height, a kite tugging skyward, awe spilling out.

"As expected of the Lancelot Family’s young lady. So young, and you’ve mastered a chantless Flight Spell." His praise chimed like little bells.

Lucimia fell silent, quiet as snowfall.

She guided the magic and took Ritch, two swallows riding the wind toward Cole.

High above, she spotted him again. He skulked like a shadow, eyes flicking like minnows. He leaned to whisper; people nodded and followed like threads pulled by a hidden spider.

Sometimes he sent aides to knock on doors. They murmured to those who emerged, and the new faces slipped after them, seeds drifted by a breeze.

When he met drunks, Cole had soldiers stage a play, pretending to escort the civilians, smoke and mirrors in lamplight to bury suspicion.

He moved hidden, cat‑footed on snow, hard to notice.

Ritch watched and felt it was off, his question a pebble dropped into a deep well. "What’s he doing?"

"Follow, and we’ll know." Lucimia gave him a quiet look, moonlight rippling on water.

He’d called Cole “captain” before; now it was just “he.” Respect peeled like old paint.

Lucimia and Ritch shadowed him from the sky, clouds trailing a lone hawk.

It ended when Cole led a small crowd into a shop.

"Hm? That’s..." Lucimia sank lower, a leaf slipping toward ground, and saw where Cole went.

It was a tavern called—No Drunk, No Return, its signboard stained by years of ale.

She remembered. In the past two runs, she’d seen it. People drank till dawn there, laughter flowing like a river of clinking cups.

Why bring people into a tavern? Could this be a nest for the Deceivers, a hive under a lantern’s glow?

"Cole’s... secretly buying drinks? Without me?" Ritch’s joke skipped like a tossed pebble.

Lucimia looked back and shot him a side‑eye, sharp as a pin.

He chuckled twice, nerves fluttering like moths. "It’s my first time facing an Evil Entity, so I’m tense. Just joking to ease it. I trust the Exorcist Family’s judgment. Cole’s definitely off. Is this tavern their base?"