Chapter 8

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If asked about the distinction between the Holy Knight Orders and the regular Knight Orders, ten out of ten people would point to the presence or absence of divine power. This was fundamental common sense for anyone born into this world: the Holy Knight Orders were formed and operated for God, while the regular Knight Orders served the imperial family, royalty, and nobility.

Thus, the sole reason Lino was able to join the Order of St. Margia was—

“Dammit all, just because You’re God doesn’t mean You can give something and then snatch it back…”

Though utterly alone in his room, Lino muttered softly, terrified someone might eavesdrop on his blasphemy. He picked up the last wedge of sandwich from his plate and took a massive bite.

Ah, it’s delicious. Ridiculously delicious.

It was just an ordinary sandwich, yet it was undoubtedly the greatest sandwich he had ever tasted in his life. After chewing a few times and swallowing, he grabbed a half-empty can of beer and brought it to his lips. The perfectly chilled beer swept his mouth clean before sliding smoothly down his throat.

Despite having to begin his escort duties the very next morning, two crushed beer cans already lay defeated on his table. For most people, two cans were merely a palate cleanser, but for Lino—a total lightweight—he was currently polishing off his second and preparing to tackle his third.

Though the pairing of sandwich and beer wasn’t exactly conventional, each item tasted phenomenal, leaving him completely satisfied. Since this is a Duke’s estate, the chef must be world-class. When else would I get to eat a sandwich made by a top-tier chef? Even the canned beer was an artisanal brew, far superior to anything sold in stores.

Lino debated opening another can but ultimately shoved it away. Thinking about tomorrow instantly turned the previously spectacular beer as bitter as poorly steeped tea.

“I guess I have no choice but to pray for a miracle…”

The most critical qualification for entering a Holy Knight Order is the possession of divine power. The required threshold is astronomically lower than that of a priest, but as knights who serve God, one must possess at least a rat’s piss worth of divine power to be accepted. Lino’s admission into the Order of St. Margia proved he had passed the divine power aptitude test.

Baron Haklan definitely knew I had divine power when he chose me.

Ironically, he hadn’t used his divine power a single time during his captivity at the Haklan estate. Divine power is typically channeled for exorcism, combat, or healing. Thanks to being docilely locked in his room, there were no demons to exorcise, no thieves to fight, and he was never injured severely enough to require healing. The worst wound he sustained was a paper cut.

Nevertheless, Lino had instinctively sensed the divine power of the Sun God, Aquila, dwelling within his body. After all, he had survived being abandoned outside the orphanage’s iron gates in the dead of a freezing winter night, wrapped in nothing but a pitifully thin cloth.

For the citizens of the Hestin Kingdom, situated in the freezing north, catching a cold is a chronic inevitability as common as breathing, regardless of social status. The only variable is the frequency. Lino had heard that even priests who actively received God’s blessing suffered from severe colds at least a couple of times a year.

Yet miraculously, Lino had never caught a single cold in his entire life. Furthermore, whenever he felt the onset of illness or various symptoms, he could physically feel a hot, searing energy circulating fiercely within his body.

Ah, so this is what divine power is.

Since magic had long since become a relic of a bygone era.

When Lino realized the dormant energy within him was divine power, he assumed Baron Haklan had adopted him specifically because his firstborn son, Iscazel Noth Haklan, completely lacked the ability.

Divine power manifested far more heavily among the upper echelons of society rather than the commoners. When a child blessed with divine power was born into a noble family, they were frequently sent to the Great Aquila Temple to forge powerful political ties with the religious sector. Thus, Lino naturally deduced that Baron Haklan had adopted an orphan with divine power to establish a connection with the Great Temple. However, that assumption had missed the mark spectacularly.

Regardless, thanks to his divine power, Lino gained entry into the Order of St. Margia. That was three years ago. Up until then, Lino believed the reservoir of divine power within his body was quite substantial. But inexplicably, roughly a year after his admission, a massive problem occurred.

It was the first time in his life he had fallen violently ill.

A high fever soaring near forty degrees Celsius made him feel as though his entire body was melting, accompanied by an agonizing abdominal pain—as if someone were repeatedly gouging his insides with a sharp awl—that lasted for an entire week.

Initially, he wondered, Is this a cold? But when the excruciating, twisting agony in his gut caused him to black out entirely, he definitively ruled out a simple cold.

When he regained consciousness, he was lying in the infirmary. The healing priest nonchalantly declared there was absolutely nothing wrong with his body and told him to stop faking it and get back to training. Lino promptly passed out again from the intense abdominal pain while still in the infirmary.

If your stomach hurts, just go take a shit. Rodic’s teasing remark had been so infuriatingly obnoxious that Lino genuinely wanted to rip the agonizing, organ-twisting pain from his own body and staple it onto his roommate.

Looking back on it now, that healing priest was undeniably a total quack. Setting the abdominal pain aside, he had branded Lino a malingerer even as the knight’s body was completely covered in a violent, heat-induced rash from the fever… Yes, definitely a quack.

Just as he was convinced he was going to die a miserable death without ever coming close to Isberg, the pain vanished like an absolute lie exactly one week later. He felt so perfectly fine he actually started to wonder, Was that quack priest who kicked me out actually right? Was I faking it?

However, marking that exact day, the divine power completely evaporated from Lino’s body. Literally evaporated. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t summon even a single grain of sand’s worth of divine power.

Terrified he might be expelled from the order, he panicked. Fortunately, there was absolutely zero need to utilize divine power after the initial entrance exam.

No missions requiring divine power ever trickled down to a microscopic Holy Knight Order buried in the backwoods of the peanut-sized Hestin Kingdom. While this was a tragedy for ambitious knights desperate to distinguish themselves and climb the ranks, it was an immense stroke of luck for Lino, whose divine power had vanished without a trace.

Please God, let there be zero situations that require divine power here.

When he had surveyed the massive crowd of knights gathered in the parlor, he had breathed a sigh of relief, thinking, With this many people, there’s no way I’ll have to step up. But with every single knight eliminated—Enoch claimed they “failed to meet the qualifications”—save for him and Yuneria, he was hopelessly trapped. He would likely be forced into close-quarters escort duty for the majority of the day.

Still, since Yuneria is here, maybe we can run two shifts? What if he demands both of us be present at all times? Can’t I just handle the grunt work that doesn’t require divine power?

Dammit all…! If I knew this would happen, I would have begged on my knees to be taken off the draft list!

Lino endlessly muttered the same regrets he’d been cycling through since the moment he was drafted. If I knew this would happen, I wouldn’t have applied rapidly devolved into If I knew my divine power was going to vanish, I wouldn’t have joined the Holy Knights, which ultimately spiraled into If You were just going to evaporate it, You shouldn’t have given it to me in the first place!

Well… if I hadn’t had it, I would have frozen to death in the snow without even letting out a single cry.

If that were the case, wouldn’t it have been better to just die back then? No, perhaps it would have been best if he were never born at all; then he wouldn’t have to live this perpetually anxiety-ridden life.

His thoughts drifted back to his infancy. Considering his parents had abandoned him in the dead of winter in front of an orphanage’s iron gates, wrapped in nothing but a single, pathetic layer of fabric that didn’t even qualify as a swaddling blanket, the odds were astronomical that he wouldn’t have experienced a proper upbringing even if they hadn’t discarded him.

If you were going to throw me away, you shouldn’t have birthed me.

Lamenting internally, Lino slumped over the table, finally feeling the alcohol spreading through his system.

“If You were just going to take it back, You shouldn’t have given it to me…”

This time, the lament escaped his lips. Because he had absolutely zero need to use his divine power daily, he hadn’t experienced any real inconvenience. He had simply planned to endure a few more years before quietly exiting the order. Yet, the moment he let his guard down, he felt as though he’d been violently hurled straight into a death trap.

He desperately prayed the escort duration would be incredibly brief. Let there be no incidents or accidents. Let him accumulate just the right amount of moderate favor to secure a hefty payout of tips and gifts.

Right, the water has already been spilled. Instead of crying over it, I need to focus on meticulously wiping it up so I don’t slip and break my neck.

Staring at the brilliant sunlight streaming through the window, Lino hardened his resolve. He absolutely could not create a situation where his lack of divine power was exposed. If the Duke is attacked, I have to be able to physically block it. Yuneria can handle the healing and exorcism.

Leaping up from the sofa, Lino dragged his battered suitcase from the corner and opened it on the floor. The maids had visited earlier, offering to unpack for him, but he had firmly rejected their help, insisting he would do it himself.

Truthfully, after witnessing the limousine, the mana stones, and the Duke’s obscenely luxurious yet elegant mansion—which Enoch claimed was merely a vacation home—Lino felt severely intimidated. He absolutely refused to expose his shabby suitcase and heavily worn clothes to the staff.

Having always believed his personality rendered him immune to intimidation regardless of his surroundings, Lino realized he had severely overestimated himself. Even now, having opened the suitcase, he found himself unconsciously mesmerized by the intricate patterns woven into the carpet beneath it.

“Ah, I can’t start digging my own grave on the first day. Snap out of it.”

Abandoning his unpacking, Lino raised his hand and viciously slapped his own cheek. He delivered an equally brutal slap to the other cheek before standing up and marching toward the bathroom. Splashing freezing water onto his face would undoubtedly wash away both the alcohol and his useless, spiraling thoughts.

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