“What did you say!?”

“I apologize, master! I have defiled the honor of the holy knights… I have defiled the noble faith! Keugh!” Llorente bowed his head while shedding tears.

“This…” The holy knight Daymos gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The most shameful thing for a knight was to have their weapon taken away by the enemy. The sword of a holy knight represented not only an individual knight’s honor but the status and the faith of the church as well.

But even though they knew of this fact, the opponent still took Llorente’s weapon away.

“Ugh! That blasphemous man truly harbors hatred for the church. The letter we received from Maren’s royalists was really true. I won’t let him off!” Daymos shouted before banging on the table and standing up.

“Sir Daymos. I will be coming with you.” Another holy knight, Iod, stepped up in a flurry. Daymos had already lost his reasoning after witnessing his favorite aide returning on a stretcher with head injuries.

“Wait a minute, sirs. We must maintain our cool, especially at times like these,” Dircht interrupted.

“What are you talking about, Dircht?!”

“My aide was humiliated like this, but you expect us to stay still?!” The two holy knights shouted in anger. 

Dircht responded in a low, cold voice, “Then what will you do once you get there? Are you going to ask him for a duel? And what next? Are you going to cut him down? Do you think the...