Time had a way of slipping through one's fingers like sand... and for Davey, it felt no different.

The once-fragile boy who was abandoned in the outskirts of Welton was now a name spoken with reverence across the Holy Lands.

By the age of 12, Davey had done what many believed was impossible... he had mastered the use of his bloodline.

The cerulean glow of his eyes and the golden energy coursing through him marked him as a Lionheart in every sense.

His mastery elevated him to the rank of a knight, the Title that normally took seasoned warriors decades to achieve.

For him to rise to such heights at the mere age of 12?

It was nothing short of a miracle.

"He truly is the chosen one..." the whispers spread far and wide.

"A gift from the Goddess herself."

It was the golden era for Davey.

He had a home to call his own, the admiration of the people, and strength that grew with each passing day.

His training consumed him and he relished every moment of it.

Yet, amidst all these accolades, something vital and important was missing, and that was...

Friends.

Sure, Davey had worshippers.

He had admirers and believers who saw him as the living embodiment of the Goddess's will.

But friends?

The kind of bond that was built on laughter, trust, and shared dreams?

That was a luxury that he was yet to experience.

That is, until his 13th birthday.

Around that time, the saintess who had first greeted Davey upon his arrival at the Holy Kingdom decided that it was time to prepare her successor.

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She took in a disciple... a 12-year-old girl named Alice.

Alice was everything that Davey had never encountered before.

She was honest, kind-hearted, and full of life.

With her jet-black hair and deep, dark eyes, she stood out amidst the golden hues and radiant whites of the temple.

She was an orphan, born and raised within the Holy Lands, she carried herself with quite a dignity that belied her age.

To Davey, she seemed like the perfect candidate to fill the void of companionship in his life.

But to him, training always came first.

Years passed, and by the time Davey turned 15, the bond between him and Alice had grown strong.

They had become best friends... Despite the temples tough and rigid lifestyle where they barely had enough time to greet or see each other.

By then, Davey had already mastered the Aura Sword, a wall so difficult to climb over that it earned him whispers of being the next Holy Knight.

The Holy Knights were an elite group of warriors that were gifted with divine strength by the gods themselves after proving their worth towards the righteousness and tenacity to keep moving forward.

Standing at the Apex of Humanity's potential, Many dreamt about getting the chance to gain that title even if it was at the end of their lives, but to be a contender at just 15 was unthinkable.

And yet, people continued to sing his praises.

By the time Davey turned 16, life took a more serious turn.

He received an oracle... a direct vision from the Goddess of Light herself.

In the dream, he saw a world ravaged by darkness.

A demon lord had risen, leading an unholy army that would soon bring humanity to the brink of extinction.

The Goddess's voice resonated in his soul, entrusting him with a mission.

"Stop the darkness. Save the world."

When he woke up, Davey was overwhelmed with gratitude.

The very Goddess he had devoted his life to had chosen him for this monumental task.

It filled him with a purpose and a reason to get more stronger.

He threw himself into his training with renewed vigor, determined to live up to her expectations.

Through it all, Alice remained by his side, offering support, comfort, and the kind of unwavering companionship that softened the edges of his increasingly burdened heart.

Another year passed, and by 17, Davey had ascended to the rank of Holy Knight.

He stood among legends, and with his new title came greater responsibilities.

{A/N:- sounds like a certain spider...}

He ventured out into the world, leading a company of 100 knights along with Alice.

Together, they fought demons in the name of Aria, spreading light and hope wherever they went.

Villages hailed him as a savior, and kingdoms offered riches in gratitude.

But Davey rejected it all.

"I don't fight for rewards." he told his followers.

"I fight for the Goddess and her people."

Instead, he donated every coin and treasure to the poor, those who reminded him of the life he once lived.

"It's the least I can do..." he'd say as he watched the joy on their faces.

Their gratitude made him feel whole... made him believe as if he was making a difference.

But the world, as it often does, was playing a cruel game.

Unbeknownst to him, many of those smiles were false.

People whispered behind his back, calling him naïve.

To them, he was a fool who gave away precious stuff for free and the best practical target to exploit.

Davey, inexperienced in worldly affairs and the matters about 'who to' and 'how to trust', couldn't see the difference between genuine kindness and selfish manipulation.

He continued to give, unaware of the webs being spun around him.

By the time he turned 18, reality began to crack.

The number of knights under his command had dwindled.

Of the 100 who had once followed him, only 25 remained.

The rest had fallen during the Great Invasion... In the desperate battle to save a village on the brink of annihilation.

Davey had insisted on saving them, and his knights had followed.

They succeeded.

The village was spared.

But the cost?

Seventy-five lives.

Davey's mentality was crushed.

The weight of their deaths bore down on him like an avalanche.

He replayed the battle in his mind over and over again, searching for the moment where he'd gone wrong.

"If only I'd been faster… If only I'd been stronger… Maybe they'd still be alive."

He swore an oath that day, standing over the graves of his fallen comrades.

"I'll never let my comrades die again. Never."

But as they continued their march, the bond between Davey and his remaining knights began to fray.

The survivors grew distant while their whispers became sharper and harsher.

"He's reckless." they'd say.

"An idealistic fool who leads us into death traps."

"He doesn't understand the burden of command."

"He can't be trusted."

Davey heard the whispers, but he didn't confront them.

How could he?

He blamed himself more than they ever could.