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Chapter 102
Chapter 102. The Heretic Knight
A so-called heretic knight was a knight from a minor sect that existed outside the mainstream Cross Religion. The most representative example was the Pestilence Knight, one of the Four Great Knights.
In the end, he was nominally subdued by the Cross Church, and his true name was revealed to be 【White】. Because of that, the infamous great evil cult known as the Pale Church came into being. They had always sought to overthrow the Cross Church and obtain the Pestilence Knight’s relics.
Some of these heretic knights accepted body modification surgeries. Some directly fell into a state neither human nor ghost. There were even more absurd rumors claiming that they entered contracts with devils, trading their souls in exchange for power.
On the surface, they seemed to have escaped the brainwashing and control imposed on Royal Knights and orthodox religious knights, and their starting point was already low B-rank. However, the price was extremely horrific—
Ŵ_e ḃño ve l Е̄ṅ u ṁa
Almost no heretic knight who walked this path ever came to a good end. In their later years, their bodies either rotted away, or their minds collapsed. Even those who remained alive usually had twisted, abnormal minds.
Faith in North Saphile was relatively free, but in other Saphile territories and the surrounding empires, heretic knights had always been targets jointly purged by the royals and the Holy See.
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Fick had never expected that the taciturn Pot Knight, who had silently stayed by his side all this time, would actually be the kind of fellow who could make it onto a wanted list outside.
With that thought, Fick instead became intensely interested.
He calculated inwardly: Heretics may have miserable ends, but they are not brainwashed by the Church. If I can find a more reliable sect, I might be able to obtain a safe method for breaking through to B-rank.
He composed his expression, turned his head to look at the Pot Knight, and teased him. “Brother Pot, what activities does your sect usually have?”
Ẽṅ ù m̃_a
The Pot Knight had clearly not expected Fick to ask such an unrelated question after learning that he was a heretic knight.
He fell silent for a moment. In the end, he could only raise his hand and gesture the shape of a bowl toward Fick. His fingers curled slightly, making a begging motion with a hint of helplessness.
The moment Fick saw that gesture, he could not help rolling his eyes on the spot. He immediately complained without any courtesy, his tone full of both disdain and amusement.
“Come on, Brother Pot. You are a genuine B-rank powerhouse, at least. Do people in the sect you joined actually have to survive by begging for food?
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“Are you an evil cult that pursues power so you can overthrow the Cross Religion, or are you the Beggars’ Sect? That is far too embarrassing!”
Fick patiently tried asking the Pot Knight a few more questions about the details of heretic knights.
Е ǹũ m̆а̇
However, after several attempts at communication, he discovered that the Pot Knight was not only mute, but also completely illiterate.
Whether Fick gestured with his hands or simply picked up a branch and wrote and drew on the ground, the other party could not give him the slightest response.
What surprised Fick even more was that by the end of their conversation, he realized that this B-rank heretic knight before him did not even have a proper name of his own.
The “Pot” that Fick usually called him was merely a casual nickname he had given him when they first met, because of the shabby pot utensils the other party carried. Yet it had actually become the Pot Knight’s only designation.
From beginning to end, he had silently answered to that arbitrary name and had never once shown the slightest objection.
Fick simply stopped struggling with the matter. He stepped forward and reached out to wrap an arm around the Pot Knight’s rigid shoulders.
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The Pot Knight’s body suddenly tensed, but in the end, he did not shake off Fick’s hand.
“Since you move in heretic circles, Brother Pot, surely you know a few obscure, hidden sects with real ability and enough power to be considered formidable, right? I want to take a look.”
With Fick’s arm around his shoulders, the Pot Knight silently lowered his head. His posture was stiff and blunt, making it clear that he knew absolutely nothing.
Looking at his wooden expression, Fick was instantly speechless. He rolled his eyes and grumbled inwardly. After all, the Church released holy fire, while Royal Knights released lightning. What the Pot Knight had released in the casino before was ordinary flame, so his background was probably some third-rate sect.
And this fellow was just a poor, hard-luck man bewildered by everything around him.
Fick waved his hand and simply changed the subject. “Today is Sunday. Go back and pack up the few things you own. Tomorrow morning, come with me to Koyanxiton City. We will stay in the city for a week.
Wе bn о̇.v̈е̄ l̀ È n̄ uḿȧ
“I may be no great scholar myself, but I can teach you to write and read while we are at it. You cannot spend your whole life as an open-eyed illiterate who cannot even write his own name.
“As for you, Brother Pot, you do not need to do anything else. Just follow me as a personal bodyguard. I am worried there may be some danger in the city.”
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The Pot Knight raised his head and looked at Fick for a moment. He had no extra words. He only nodded.
The next day, Fick got up early and saw that Gar was already holding a Tiansuluo while training the three beasts.
“Brothers, shout it out! One, two, three, four!”
“Self-discipline makes me happy! Become a macho man faster, better, and more efficiently!”
Ӗn̆ûmâ
Ganglie was lying on the ground doing push-ups, still muttering that he would do ten more. Wally and Bear were holding up wooden posts, their faces flushed red from exertion.
Fick was deeply gratified. He put on the mask Alice had given him and went down the mountain together with the Pot Knight, who was carrying his luggage.
At the mountain road intersection, the two stopped an old mule cart. After a bumpy ride, they entered the city amid flying dust.
The city was bustling with noise and people. Fick first patiently asked passersby for directions for a long time, and eventually found a small inn run by a young couple deep inside the tangled alleys of the civilian district. It did not check identities and only recognized gold coins.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
After putting down their respective luggage and briefly settling in, the two went out together and merged into the bustling street crowd.
“Little Pot, just look at what you are wearing. Your armor is so rotten that light could shine through it, and your sword hilt is so worn down that it is almost unrecognizable.”
W ẽ b̆n ӧ v́ ē l̆ Е̂ n ū m̃ а
Fick patted the Pot Knight’s shoulder guard. “If you are going to follow me, your equipment has to be brought up to standard. Today, I will take you to a long-established blacksmith shop and get you a few sets of truly impressive gear. We will upgrade that battered armor of yours.”
When the Pot Knight heard this, he merely raised his hand slowly, pointed to the old sword at his waist that was covered in nicks, then made a hammering motion.
Fick understood at once. He patted his shoulder and laughed. “All right, all right. We will repair your precious sword first.”
…
The two wandered through the city for an entire day before finally finding a decent blacksmith shop the next morning.
Inside the shop, rows of frighteningly bright knight armor were displayed. They were sorted by category, arranged in an imposing array.
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The young shop assistant had originally been leaning against the counter and dozing off. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the two of them—one with a calm and composed bearing, and the other looking like a bodyguard who had been hacked at by a hundred men.
In the assistant’s eyes, this was clearly an easy mark. He immediately changed into an attentive expression and hurried forward. “The two of you are here to look at equipment, yes? Please come in, please come in!”
The assistant bowed and led the two toward the row of most dazzling armor with exaggerated gestures. “Our shop has a resounding reputation here in North Saphile territory!
“Whether it is plate armor for marching with the army or chain mail for hunting, as long as you can think of it, we have it here!”
He pointed at a suit of armor in the center, forged entirely from fine steel and engraved all over with rose patterns, then introduced it. “Dear customer, please look at this set. This is the treasure of our shop!
“Authentic full-body plate armor, forged from high-carbon steel, with maximum piercing resistance.
Е̊ num а̃ .і̆_d
“Most importantly, its joints use recessed locking hinge technology. Raising your arms, bending your knees, turning your neck—it has flexible movement through all three hundred and sixty degrees with no blind spots. If a blade strikes it, all you will get is sparks. It is impossible to break through its defense.”
Fick listened with great interest. Seeing this, the assistant became even more energized and gestured toward an even heavier set beside it.
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“Now look at this one. Gothic full-cover plate armor, both handsome and practical. The helmet is an integrated visor design with built-in breathing holes and a vision slit. It is the same style used by Royal Knights.”
He then pointed toward a colorful set of armor inlaid with brass decorations and explained with spittle flying:
“And this kind here is heraldic armor. It is specially prepared for noble gentlemen like you. A family crest and family motto can be engraved on it, with purely handmade carving and gilding techniques. If you wear this while strolling through the street, what young lady would not come up and pin a flower on you?”
Fick waited until the assistant had exhausted himself with talking before he finally asked, “Very good. I would like to know where sword repairs are handled.”
Е ň um̈а.
The assistant thought, You are not buying anything, yet you kept nodding while walking beside me? For the sake of making a living, I will endure it.
“Hahaha, this way, dear customer. Our master can not only repair swords, but also supports trading in old items for new ones. Old swords can be exchanged for bowls, basins, or scissors too!”
The assistant led the two toward the back courtyard, where the clang of iron being hammered rang out.
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