The streets bustled with a steady stream of hurried pedestrians. Spotting an acquaintance meant only a quick nod before parting ways.

As a relatively remote noble territory, Bati City couldn’t match the economic vibrancy of the Empire’s central districts. Yet as Baron Buckley’s directly-administered seat, life had improved markedly since the Empire’s recovery—far better than two decades prior. Busy? Yes. But at least everyone had enough to eat.

As the old saying goes: “Food is the foundation of the people.” Unless truly desperate, who’d risk their neck for reckless deeds?

This place had changed so much since years ago.

Fate admired the cityscape. New buildings dotted the horizon, lending Bati City a vibrant, lively glow.

People and carriages filled the thoroughfares. After weaving past the southern market and shops, Fate spotted the district’s most iconic landmark: a white spire crowned with a large golden bell.

The tower rose about three stories high, its courtyard enclosed by an iron fence twined with white roses—reminiscent of a quiet monastery.

Curious, Fate approached the unfamiliar structure, wondering which deity resided within.

Could it be Torenia, founder of the Empire and god of war and sovereignty?

No. Torenia’s churches always featured purple roses and grand black halls glittering with amethyst.

This one, all white with white roses, looked from afar like a sealed knight’s helmet.

The longer Fate stared, the more peculiar his expression grew. Its style clashed sharply with any continental shrine he knew—though he had to admit, the design wasn’t bad.

Perhaps a grassroots shrine to some obscure deity? Still, noble approval suggested it wasn’t *that* strange.

And…

To his surprise, the place thrived with worshippers. Despite their hectic lives, Bati City citizens regularly paused to visit and pray.

That only deepened Fate’s curiosity.

Holding the young noble’s letter, he paid two copper coins as a believer’s fee and stepped inside.

The chapel stood on a diamond-shaped base, five white pillars reaching skyward. Oil paintings of swords and armor adorned the walls. Sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, draping the towering stone knight—hands resting on his blade—in a kaleidoscope of light.

Before the high altar stood a majestic statue carved from flawless Nightstone. Fate fell silent.

…Why did this armor look so familiar?

Seriously—the longer he looked, the more it resembled his own Twilight Radiance armor.

Coincidence? Mistaken identity?

This had to be copyright infringement.

“Good afternoon. May the Dawn’s Light protect you, sir.”

A voice clear as a mountain spring pulled his attention.

A nun-clad young woman stood nearby, hands folded around a cross, her smile warm and gentle.

“Ah, good afternoon, Sister,” Fate nodded. Something about her felt faintly familiar, but he let it pass.

“You’re new here, sir. Come to pray to the Dawnbreak Knight-Captain… or to confess?”

“…Dawnbreak Knight-Captain??” Fate blinked at the altar statue. “Which one?”

“Sir, truly—across the entire Empire, no, the whole Alren Continent—is there *another* Dawnbreak Knight-Captain?” She covered her mouth with a soft laugh.

“He is the Empire’s pride: the undefeated paragon of justice who carved hope through despair, saved the suffering Alren Continent, and ascended to godhood—the great Dawnbreak Knight-Captain himself.”

“…Huh?” Fate replied blankly after a long pause.

“Any doubts?”

“…None.” *(Plenty, actually.)*

“You said… he ascended?” Fate gestured toward the statue, incredulous.

“Sir, pointing at the Knight-Captain’s image is impolite.”

“…Apologies.” He lowered his hand, baffled but compliant. *Their house, their rules.*

“Indeed. After restoring the world, the Knight-Captain returned to the heavens—now revered as the god of justice and compassion, seated beside War God Torenia…”

Wait. What?

Fate stared, utterly bewildered.

Who spun this fairy tale? Enshrining *him* like a relic, weaving wild legends—what was the point?

He shot the statue a strange look.

*The Dawnbreaker Knight ascended? Since when didn’t I know that?*

Oh no. Everyone knew he was a divine messenger… except him.

“The Dawnbreak Knight-Captain never lost a battle. Noble, righteous, victorious always. Many believe *he*, not Torenia, is the true war god…”

“Um.” Fate cut in gently. The nun spoke like a devoted fan.

“He… lost once, didn’t he?”

“…Did he?”

“To the Crimson Empress. Otherwise, how’d he die?” Fate’s tone was blunt—normal to him. Why couldn’t the Dawnbreaker Knight be critiqued? He was mortal like anyone else.

…The nun’s warm expression froze.

Uh-oh.

“Hmph. That *vampire* cheated. The Knight-Captain hadn’t healed from his dragon-slaying wounds. In a fair duel? Her head would’ve rolled beneath his divine blade.” Her voice turned icy, certain.

“…I see.” *(I had no idea I was *that* amazing.)*

“Of course! He is the strongest Knight-Captain there is!”

*(No. Even at full strength, I couldn’t beat Christine.)*

Fate hesitated. Best not argue with such fierce devotion. They’d be colleagues soon—no need to strain things.

“So, blond sir who doubts the Dawn’s Light illuminating the entire continent… do you understand now?” she added, a hint of pique in her tone.

“…I understand.” *(You say so. I won’t argue.)*