An ordinary profession creates the world's strongest

The one who gave a wry smile was one of the only three division commanders in the White Light Knights—Eram Ockerman, who possessed the unique magic "Holy Flame".

"If you don't want me to find you, hide your soul!"

"Don't force me!"

Airem entered the training ground and handed the towel to Rouse.

Airem said to Rolls, who was wiping the sweat off his face with a towel:

"The meeting is almost over, so I came to call you."

"Oh, yeah! Sorry."

"Wait?" Ross thought as he spoke, tilting his head in confusion. If that's the case, why was he hiding and watching me? Couldn't he just call me? Perhaps it was because the doubt in his heart was showing on his face—

Airem lowered his head slightly and spoke cautiously.

"...Because I saw you seemed to be thinking about something."

"So you're worried about me!"

Airem asked a question to Ross, who shook his head slightly and turned towards the exit.

His voice sounded flat and lacked inflection.

"...Lord Rouse. May I ask you a question?"

"?What's up?"

"What did you talk about with that heretic that day in the West Sea?"

“…What do you mean?”

Ross's voice also became flat without him noticing.

Airem lowered his head, but only looked behind Ross who did not turn back, and continued to ask a question.

"What did the heretic Oscar Orcus ask you?"

"..."

"It seems to me, Lord Royce, that you are wavering. You—"

“Eram!”

Airem was about to approach him, but his feet stopped because of those short words.

It was a cold and ruthless voice that was frightening and sent chills down one's spine.

Rolls turned and said to him:

"Are you interrogating me?"

“How, how is this possible!?”

The pressure, as strong as the water pressure of a waterfall, made Airem break out in a cold sweat.

He realized that he was obviously disrespectful and quickly lowered his head.

"We're almost late for the meeting. Let's go!"

"Yes! I'm so sorry for taking so long!"

Ross turned his gaze back to the front and walked directly to the exit of the training ground.

Airem raised his head slightly, gazing at the receding figure. His eyes were filled with fear, and at the same time, a thick emotion settled within them.

Royce walked out of the exit and disappeared.

Even so, Airem stared at the exit for a long time.

"...Lord Royce. You are the glorious Captain of the White Light Knights, our light. Please... never forget."

He uttered a small, low murmur.

When I entered the meeting room, I found that everyone present was there except Rolls.

Then, as soon as His Holiness the Pope arrives, the meeting will begin.

(It's really unsettling! But it's understandable.)

Ross's expression was as stiff as a mask as he whispered to himself. Indeed, the moment he entered, all the attendees' gazes were fixed on him like pinpricks.

Except for some people, those looks were definitely not well-intentioned.

The evidence was that as soon as Ross sat down in his designated seat, cold words flew towards him like spears.

"Isn't that Lord Royce? You're the last one to arrive, and you're so relaxed!"

"Really?! If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't dare do that!"

One was a gaunt man, his hair flattened by sleep, slicked back into a bun. The other was a burly man with a horseshoe-shaped beard. The former was Zeba Yigen, commander of the Third Army of the Knights Templar. The latter was Mox Gurean, commander of the Fourth Army of the same order.

The so-called Knights Temple is the standing combat force of the Kingdom of God, with a military strength as large as the Fourth Army.

Among them, the outstanding knights who have been carefully selected can be promoted and join the more prestigious Three Lights Knights...

Perhaps for this reason, Rolls's position in a high position was coveted by ambitious people; at the same time, to be honest, they could not feel the slightest sympathy for his misconduct.

That being said, Ross's misconduct in the West Sea, which led to the destruction of an entire division of the White Light Knights, could be said to have affected the Kingdom of God and the prestige of the Church.

Opening one's arms and expressing joy is not only disrespectful, but it's also not surprising that it would be interpreted as treacherous. In fact,

"Zeba, Mox. Stop using those words that belittle the character of the Knights Templar!"

Lilith Archain, commander of the First Army and Grand Master of the Knights Templar, offered stern advice.

She is beautiful with straight blond hair parted in the middle, slender eyes, and dark green pupils that exude deep wisdom. She is an outstanding figure who took on the position of general manager at the age of only 27.

It was obvious how amazing her strength was. Zeba turned his head away in disgust, while Mox shrugged and closed his mouth.

"I'm sorry, Lord Rouse."

"No problem."

Hearing Lilith's apology, Ross closed his eyes and answered clearly and straightforwardly.

Perhaps because he was dissatisfied with his attitude, Strauss Machilion, the commander of the Second Army who was obsessed with Lilith, raised his eyebrows angrily.

"Lord Rouse. Even if you're a master of Age of Gods magic and the leader of the White Light Knights, you shouldn't display that kind of attitude, right? Do you know how much effort the commander-in-chief has put into reorganizing the White Light Knights?"

"That's enough! Reorganizing the Knights of White Light is a great honor. I'm very happy to have so many talented people among my subordinates, and I never think it's a bother!"

Hearing Lilith's scolding, Strauss lowered his eyes in dissatisfaction.

Normally, when the Knights of the Three Lights recruit, they select from among the "God's Favorites" who have served as Knights of the Temple and possess inherent magic. Personnel management is entirely under the control of the Knights of the Three Lights. However, if a vacancy arises within the Temple due to a member's promotion, it is the Captain's responsibility to fill it.

In other words, Ross could pick whoever he wanted, and she would be responsible for cleaning up the mess.

Ross felt that the number of personnel needed was too large, so he delegated full responsibility for the personnel matters to Lilith. Ross made this decision out of consideration for convenience, but from the perspective of Strauss and the others, it seemed like he was simply dumping the entire burden on Lilith.

"Chief Lilith."

Ross called her with his eyes closed. Perhaps thinking he was angry, Lilith lowered her head slightly.

"I apologize again. My subordinates were disrespectful to you."

"Don't take it to heart. Thank you for your efforts in reorganizing the team. You have a keen eye. They are a very fine group of knights."

“…Really? That’s great!”

Lilith only said this and lowered her eyes.

In truth, Lilith had always harbored a certain admiration and deep respect for Ross, who, despite being five years younger than her, served as leader of the White Light Knights. The details of this incident were well known, and Lilith, considering it a very difficult situation to handle, did not express any disappointment in him.

So, hearing his frank thanks and praise in response, she couldn't help but feel a little shaken.

"Ross, please explain more clearly!"

Suddenly, a middle-aged man with medium-length black hair parted in the middle and wearing a monocle spoke in a low voice from the front - the leader of the Beast Light Knights, Mulu Oliki.

Mulu, who has a steady personality, is a contemporary of Rolls.

"I've said what needs to be said."

"I'm telling you, even things that don't need to be said, say them!"

Mulu has a more sociable personality, which is the exact opposite of Rolls.

Mulu, who was in the same position as Rolls and always had easy conversations with him, looked like friends to others, didn't he? In fact, Mulu did think they were friends. But Rolls never revealed his true feelings.

"Please handle it properly!"

"You're always like that! You're such a pain in the ass!"

Mu Lu shrugged helplessly, and instead, the sixty-year-old man sitting next to him spoke.

"That's right. Take care of it, or we'll be in big trouble, Lord Byrne."

"Lord Distak."

Ross opened his eyes and looked at the other man, because if he didn't, it would be disrespectful to him.

Cardinal Baran Distarch.

He is the head of four cardinals, serving as a political cardinal, a position equivalent to that of a prime minister in other countries. His eyebrows are always in a splayed shape, and now he has a puzzled smile on his face.

"This concerns the prestige of the church. Do you know how many people have been shaken by your gaffe this time?"

They completely cut off any news reaching the capital or other countries.

However, the actual restructuring of the Knights Templar was not feasible. The collapse of one of their strongest forces had caused such a severe impact that Balan had been busy lately trying to prevent the Church's prestige from collapsing.

"I've heard all about the pagans... I'm not doubting you, Lord Byrne. But isn't there something wrong with your faith?"

"Please wait a moment, Master Distak. You are going too far."

Mulu tried to lighten the mood, but Balan showed a troubled expression and accused Ross with anger and contempt.

"As long as you have unwavering faith, you should be able to defeat your enemy no matter how powerful they are. If divine punishment is God's will, then we are omnipotent, isn't that right?"

If you agree with this, it is tantamount to admitting that your faith is insufficient.

If we deny it, it means that even believers in God are powerless, and it is a disguised statement that God has given us an impossible task. Therefore, no matter how we answer, it is inappropriate.

This cardinal, a political figure, was adept at concealing his serpentine cunning beneath a seemingly troubled expression.

In the silence, Royce answered.

"you're right."

"Oh! So you admit it! You're the leader of the White Light Knights, but you lost to the heretics because of your lack of faith!"

Balan didn't mean to disparage Rouse by saying this; he simply blurted it out in anger. Rouse's admission of a lack of faith was a disgrace to the honor of the Knights of the White Light and the prestige of the church.

No matter what the situation was like or how miserable it was, it had nothing to do with him.

God's will is everything.

Whatever the reason, by failing to complete the task, Routh committed an act tantamount to breach of trust, which was the most serious failure.

Everyone present agreed with this sentiment. Even Lilith, though she understood the situation and didn't blame Ross, would have committed suicide out of shame and guilt if she were in Ross's shoes.

So, everyone just looked at Ross without saying a word.

"You are right, Lord Distak."

Rouse directly affirmed Balaam's insults against him.

This is the Kingdom of God, the Church, and the gathering place of the highest officials. Therefore, it is a gathering place for the strongest faith. Yet, here, Ross said, "My faith is insufficient."

No wonder everyone was speechless.

"My faith and strength are insufficient. Truly—far from sufficient."

Rouse's monologue cut through the silent air like a gear.

To others, his behavior might seem like he was ashamed of his lack of faith. After all, he was the silent, iron-faced Royce Byrne.

A man like him could show his emotions so openly, even for a moment. Everyone who saw him would surely think he was the one most remorseful and angry about this failure, even if Rolls's mind was actually elsewhere.

This kind of performance indeed made the last person on the field, who had been silent, speak up to smooth things over after interpreting it this way.

"Please calm down, everyone. Lord Rouse's selfless devotion and faith are unquestionable. I'm sure you've all seen that from his actions so far."

The old man, whose eyes were narrowed to as thin as silk threads, spoke. His beautiful white hair was combed into a 3:7 ratio. He was about 70 years old.

His name was Chime Yesu Simtiye, and he was the chief bishop overseeing seven archbishops. He served as the Pope's right-hand man and also oversaw practical matters. Naturally, no one dared to question the words of such a figure.