Refreshed from the unplanned nap, the little lady went out to the training field where Sir Ahmose is currently taking a short break from teaching the soldiers. His opinions about the Herald they previously discussed stirred her interest once again.

Sterne went ahead and sat beside her teacher. 

“How many Gods are there exactly?”

Sir Ahmose gave a cryptic smile. “There is no definite number, milady. We on the other hand only worship those who showed us the way.”

That one was too vague of an answer.

“Well, is there a chance a God can be imitated by another entity?”

“No.” He answered quickly. “A heavy punishment will be meted out to those who desecrate Their name.”  

“What if we mistook a different being for a God?”

That dream of the black knight left her nothing but confusion. Why did he say something like 'false oracle'? There must be a huge reason why he uttered those words.

“There is no such thing, milady. The Gods are beings that live in a different plain. They have never shown themselves.”

“Then how do we know that they exist?”

“Remember that there are Heralds. Gods send their Heralds in their stead. It was they who deliver messages and show themselves to us mortals to interpret Their will. There are records of Heralds coming down in place of the higher beings, the very same reason why Heralds have statues and temples. Praying in those sacred places guarantees your devotion to be received.”

“Then, are there people who go against the belief? What I mean was, perhaps those people are not worshipping the Gods but the Herald instead.” Because people tend to misinterpret things sometimes. To only believe the surface of what they see. She thought seriously.

His grip on the sword tightened but there was no way for her to know because she was currently focused on deciphering that odd dream.  

“What if they worship the wrong being, a Herald for example. Is it possible?"

Indeed some sects worship the Herald itself. Those were the thoughts of Sir Ahmose but did not mention it.

“Will the Gods punish the mortal or the Herald?” 

He did not answer that. Instead, he said, “Although the Heralds were only envoys to the Gods, they were faithful to their creators. Betrayal is out of the question.” 

“Teacher is saying that it’s impossible for a Herald to give wrong oracles?” Or worse, fabricate the Gods will for their benefit.

The surrounding has become quiet. Before she notices it the knights and apprentices were already on their way inside the Hell Course. The noises they made were carried in different directions making a faint cacophony.

Sir Ahmose had an inscrutable expression. “For millennia, from aeons, no one has ever dared think of such a thing. How come the most relevant questions came out from the mouth of such a young girl?”

Pale blue eyes steadily looked at the little lady.  

Ah, my bad. Did I upset him somehow? Was the question too sacrilegious? Wait a minute, what was considered sacrilegious again? She thought worriedly. 

Squeezing her eyes tight, Sterne waited to be hand-chopped or be burned to cinders with a glare. Just thinking about it was enough to give her a wave of shivers. Sir Ahmose never gets upset and she certainly does not want to make the old guy upset with her! He’s the second frightening person she never wanted to cross beside Miss Amy. 

Opening her tightly squeezed eyes she thought-- ehh? 

He’s smiling!?

“My answer is the same. It’s impossible.”

“Impossible.” She mulled over the word deeply. 

Betraying their makers who rule over their life and death for such a small benefit truthfully sounds foolish. 

“Like I said before Herald's are just beings. Loyal to their creators and selfless, the problem could only lie to the worshippers who often commit the mistake.”

Sterne had that thought as well but she still consulted him just to make sure she didn't miss anything. Humans after all are weak to the temptation of power. There is a high chance that an oracle was fabricated but by doing so a severe sentence will fall upon the sinner. Who would give mortals the authority to freely twist oracles for their benefit and avoid retribution…? 

“Teacher,” she said slowly. “Can Heralds be imitated?” 

Sir Ahmose remained silent. 

What happens if the mortals turn their faith to the Heralds instead of the Gods?

It was all because of those dreams that gave birth to these questions. The Black Knight’s last words about the false oracle heavily lingered in her thoughts. Her heart had been unsettled since.

If each God has their own Herald, then who among them gave the order to kill the Black Knight?

The highest existence God of Creation is absolute, omnipotent but was only mentioned a few times in history. It was before the Aurum Kingdom had been established as was depicted on that old scroll.

Piecing the fragmented message from the dreams, Sterne came to a conclusion.

The God of Creation and his envoy, the one who gave her these eyes only showed up twice while the rest of the lesser Gods kept their link to mankind through their Heralds. Then the cause of the ancient war. A false oracle and the possibility of a Herald betraying a God but Sir Ahmose holds great faith in them.

If it truly was the worshipper who committed the taboo of deceiving people… then linking it to the tragedy of this kingdom. 

The thought left her absolutely horrified.

Man, after all, will do anything for power. 

 

Evenings in the wild are cold, it was the most suitable time for Nightmare Fireflies to emerge from their hiding place and freely scatter around the darkened hinterlands of the primordial city, Holy Dipterus. In so many years that the small country stood, no monsters nor invaders dared to venture into this particular unprotected area that leads directly to its core. 

Except for one. 

A presence appeared and stirred the clusters of poisoned fireflies to attack. However, before they could even come close to the opponent, the mist exuded by him felled hundreds of them in a blink. 

A man shrouded in black mist moved unperturbed of the dangers brought upon by these mesmerizing creatures. The moment he passed, more of their kind were wiped out. 

Sir Ahmose Vhon moved without hindrance bringing death upon the famed monsters of the night guarding the primordial city. Coming closer to his purpose, he recalled the words of the little lady. The girl was absolutely unaware that she was coming close to the answer to the thousand-year riddle. 

That time nobody believed when he spoke those words. The enemy used his devotion against him to turn his allies against him and drive him out of the land. The Holy One, if his legacy still lives then they will not stop until they seize what they failed to have a thousand years ago.

Ahmose Vohn stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking an ancient city with his usual emotionless gaze. Far from the elderly appearance, the man is brimming with youthful energy. His face was lacking any marks of old age, his usual grey hair gleamed darker than ink.

From above while nighttime covers the land and torches lit the houses, the structure below can be clearly seen. A wide spell matrix protecting the citizens inside was meticulously laid. In the daytime, one can only see it as a picturesque city surrounded by huge mountains on both sides.

"Heh, the primordial city Holy Dipterus." Sir Ahmose said with a touch of old cynicism. "Still led by a bunch of pretentious zealots."

"Master, news came from the west." A black-clad youth spoke.

"West, huh." He replied thoughtfully. 

"The dragon awoke."

"Great news indeed.” Sir Ahmose said with rare enthusiasm. “I guess it won't be too long until the gryphon of the south follows.”

The youth looked below with a bitter look, "We can only hope that they have not made any movement before us.”

“Dipterus always desire what they shouldn’t have. Stay vigilant, remember why I sent each of you to every kingdom.” 

The youth nodded. Their purpose was to observe those places under the influence of Holy Dipterus. Master had been staying in a kingdom somewhere in the eastern continent. None of them knows why he secluded himself to such a faraway land. 

“The enemy's influence stretches far and deep. The place where I am at the moment holds great significance to them. Inform every clansman to keep a low profile and send people to the western continent. The news of the dragon’s awakening must not reach them.” 

“As you command.” The man bowed and disappeared into the void.

The night stretched longer. Ahmose Vhon left the cliffside to scour the depth of the nearby forest. After achieving his task, he once again put on his mask and returned to his assigned place.

Inside the primordial city, the great sect master sat on his golden throne looking over the heads of hundred men prostrating below his feet.

“Holy Master, the God of Refuge already sent the Herald in the Aurum Kingdom. The children have been selected.”

“Soon, one of them shall be hailed as the Hallowed One. The possibility presented itself to us once again. After waiting for hundreds of years, perhaps this time finally the southern kingdom will be ours.”

The audiences’ laughter vividly illustrates their joy.

“Hallowed One.” They call it such.

The Holy Master's old face brightened with a smile. The revered maiden gifted with the strongest divine magic, Faith by the God of Refuge. She comes to alleviate the king's madness. In the end, none of them can cure the disease of the royal family of Aurum, even the revered Heralds can only watch helplessly and choose a temporary solution.  

“Leave.” He commanded.

The moment the throne room was empty, hearty laughter filled the walls.   

“Hallowed One indeed… what nonsense.” 

And what happens if they fail to find her? The kingdom will fall into chaos and it won't be long until the south is thoroughly destroyed. That is the price those traitors have to pay for discarding the primordial city!

"Father," A beautiful girl came out from one of the pillars.

Bright eyes, soft fair skin like lilies and hair adorned by a myriad of pearls and gold. The girl walked in slow steps towards the man on the throne.

"My darling Sofia." The Holy Master stretched out his hand and lovingly touched her head.

Lady Sofia gave a cherubic smile.

“What made father so happy?”

“Oh, father has received great news.”

“Did it come from my esteemed elder brother?”

The Holy Master’s smile faded. “It was.” 

“Then, Sofia is happy for father.” She said, “I wonder how my esteemed elder brother is doing now…”

The girl placed her head on her father’s shoulder. A picture of man and child exudes warmth and indulgences on the surface. If one were to stand from afar and see the Holy Master's malevolent smile, it would surely make one's blood curdle.

 

Several days later. A few kilometres outside of Nachtwald Duchy.

The inconspicuous carriage slowly creeping forward stopped in the middle of the road.

“Hm, it seems the rumour is true.” The man inside languidly spoke, “Even without entering the dense mana can be felt."

A delicate hand pulled the brocade curtain slightly giving the person a small gap to peek. Outside, the birds sang, the vivid colours of vegetation and sky can hurt the eyes, but most especially the sweet sweet scent of clean air blowing inside the carriage is enough to refresh the soul if only the thick rusty smell did not spoil it.

“What a pity that such beauty is short-lived.” He remarked as he playfully teased the tassels of the fabric. “The tide is nearing.”

The coachman, also acting as a guard wiped the red stains on his sword with a cotton cloth. What his master said was true, so why bother coming out here? Compared to their city, this place can only be described as provincial. 

He gazed with displeasure at the muddy ground where twenty bodies lay. Deprived of life. His cold face held only disdain at these ragged people that attempted to rob them. They obstructed the road and their coach to beg for food but when begging failed they attacked them using rusted and inferior tools. 

Tramps, huh. 

In his eyes, there was nothing more important than the master. These twenty or so worthless creatures were nothing but a nuisance and quickly ended their lives. 

“Nachtwald, a forgotten paradise no different from a tomb.”

From the underbrush, a movement caught the master's eyes. A few moments later, a small head poked out and a chubby face of a boy looked up.

“Vier, what is that?” The master asked.

“A child my master. He might have gotten lost from his--”

“Less words. Get rid of it.” The sharp tone cut through making the little boy flinch.

The watery eyes slightly quivered.