"Mr. Fate," Lide finally spoke again after a long silence, his voice slow and measured.

"Hmm?"

"My father… why can’t he come back?"

"If it’s not too much trouble… could you tell me why?" Lide’s gaze remained fixed on Fate.

"He… displayed remarkable bravery while suppressing a cultist riot," Fate replied gently, conveying the truth Lide sought.

"…Cultists." Lide clenched his small fists tightly.

Both his mother’s death and his father’s demise were tied to the cultists.

A seed of hatred took root deep within Lide’s heart.

"Mr. Fate… were you ever a knight?"

"Mm. For a time," Fate answered.

"Then why retire?"

"Certain things happened. The knight system is mature now—my presence isn’t essential."

"…Mr. Fate."

"Mm."

"I want to become a knight." Lide tightened his fists. His voice was young, yet carried a resolve far beyond his years.

"You truly wish to be a knight?" Fate pondered quietly.

"Yes! I must avenge my parents… so I *have* to become a knight."

"…" Fate remained silent for a long moment.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes!"

"Knighthood carries heavy responsibility—it’s not merely revenge or hunting cultists," Fate said softly, patting Lide’s shoulder.

Lide held the money pouch tightly, saying nothing.

Fate understood the boy was resolute. No further words were needed.

Lide now bore the hollow look of someone on the brink of collapse—only the fire of vengeance kept him standing.

Whether his mother’s transformation into a monster or his father’s battlefield death, both threads led to the cultists. He poured every ounce of grief and fury onto them.

Fate shook his head.

This boy sought knighthood not for honor, but for vengeance.

Such impure purpose would bring confusion later—but vengeance was his only anchor. Fate chose silence.

Everyone needs a reason to live. Whatever it is.

If this gave the ill-fated child purpose, Fate asked for nothing more.

"How about staying at the church for now?"

Lide shook his head, politely declining. The once timid boy had transformed after witnessing his mother’s passing and learning of his father’s death.

"I’ll use this money to reach a larger city… and enroll in its knight academy," Lide said firmly.

Loss stripped his comfort zone. Pain forged growth.

A boy *should* journey outward—and Lide would heed no one’s counsel now.

Having lost home and all, his fate had irrevocably turned.

Fate could only share hard-won advice: avoid scams, stay wary.

"You’re… not returning?"

"No." Lide’s small frame trembled slightly, but he refused.

Fate knew—he feared revisiting that home. Memories might soften his resolve, chain him to sorrow.

So he hadn’t gone to the Inquisition Tribunal for his mother’s remains. He knew it was futile.

The truth behind her illness. The cultists who killed his father. He would uncover it all.

He *had* to become a knight. Weak and powerless now, only knighthood granted voice in the Empire.

Dawn broke. Lide left the town where he’d lived over ten years.

Though sleepless a full day and night, Fate felt no fatigue. Pondering the chain of events, a nagging doubt lingered—he’d missed something.

This cultist attack felt disjointed. Too many gaps.

Cultists existed everywhere, yet historically fixated on the Sanlan Kingdom. Cultist activity within the Empire had always been sparse—especially after *he* uprooted their stronghold there. They’d lain dormant for years.

An attack wiping out an entire battalion? No minor incident. Concealing it to avoid panic made sense… but why did the Inquisition Tribunal seem indifferent?

And this virus turning humans into monsters—why only a few infected? Why no findings yet?

Logically, specialists should’ve been dispatched. Yet per Lide, nothing happened.

Perhaps the Tribunal underestimated the threat, deemed it non-contagious. Or investigations were silent.

Either way—he was just a passerby now. No authority. No right to question.

*Ah, well…*

A faint weakness tingled in Fate’s hands. He sighed softly.

Punishing cultists. Containing the plague. These burdens were no longer his.

Leave it to the Inquisition Tribunal. To his juniors. To Alins.

He couldn’t guard the world forever. Let go. The future belonged to them.

Fate trusted his disciples would bring justice to the departed.

Heart heavy, he returned to the church. Empty, as expected. After the monster attack, fear gripped the town. Uncertain if more horrors hid in shadows, residents stayed locked indoors.