A few minutes after, a squad comprising of Knights was immediately dispatched to restore peace and order in the streets--this was not something they could ignore. Multiple metallic blurs --Knights from the Order-- were sighted moving along the streets, and eventually seized the chance on establishing a perimeter around the place of incident. They were running all over in order to guarantee to the common-folk that the situation was under their control--a sly move on their part, but comforting for the common-folk nonetheless. In a span of a few minutes, Knights stood ramrod at each block, effectively acting as deterrents until they were told otherwise to do so. The Order had easily took control of the situation.

Back at the place where the incident happened, a Knight scaled the walls through the use of dim-green orbs. Considering he was already sprinting before, he had accumulated enough speed, and thusly stepped on orb after orb as it propelled him upwards. The additive force was powerful enough, that he easily flew into the air. With this, he was given a great vantage point to overlook from and immediately scouted the rooftops in search of where the battle precisely occurred.

Over there

Where he was looking at--the remnants of what seemed to be a short but intense battle could be seen. And in the aftermath, a lone Knight who looked completely at ease but whose armor had significantly lost its luster stood in place beside a body of what seemed to be a boy and two disfigured corpses. A look of surprise flowed across his face when he gazed at the scene, most especially at the lone Knight. Then when his speed started to slow down as gravity started to take effect, he invoked a dim-green orb just behind him and consequently enveloped him briefly in a perceivable gust of green-colored wind--this gave him a slight push, only enough to allow him to get a foothold on the closest rooftop below.

There was no urgent need for him to rush.

After gently landing on one of the rooftops with a soft thud and the jingle of steel, he walked towards where the battle had taken place. It only took him a few seconds until he was only a few strides away from the lone Knight. When he had reached a respectable distance, he immediately assumed the position of a salute, accompanied by the sound of steel clashing onto steel reverberating below.

“Knight-Captain Astolfo has been dispatched for aid!”

The man Astolfo was referring to glanced at him briefly, and with a satisfied nod coupled with a soft smile, responded back.

“At ease, Captain Astolfo. There’s no need to stand on ceremony for me. I appreciate the initiative of sending help, though.”

Astolfo did as he was told and eased back into a relaxed stance. And with a wry smile, the man in front of him continued on.

“After all, I’m not exactly the kind of Knight who specializes in dealing with panicked crowds. I’m leaning more on the side of ‘dealing’ with threats...”

Astolfo laughed at the man’s self-judgment.

“You’ve always been like that, Knight-Master.”

The man had a resigned look, like he had given up. Marked by the sound of shifting steel, he shrugged.

“And you should also know that I hate formalities. Well, never mind. After all, there are more pressing concerns right now than a trivial argument involving the dropping of honorifics.”

“Agreed. With that said, mind telling me the details on what happened here? Reports were flowing in at the Keep indicating that a battle had taken place. And considering I just got back, I volunteered to head out--to my surprise, I found my good ol’ friend, Alaric, standing nonchalantly beside two corpses.” Astolfo emphasized his point by glancing at the two corpses just beside Alaric.

“Three of them were chasing this boy, “ --Alaric threw a sideway glance at the boy-- “And noticing that the boy wasn’t exactly willing, I decided to intervene. In the end, two died by my hands and one escaped. Judging by their skill in battle and the apparent specter-cloaks --while I’m not absolutely certain-- they should at least have some connection to the Dark Guilds.”

In response to the unexpected perpetrator, Astolfo furrowed his brow with eyes narrowed.

“That is not something we can ignore. It’s strange--considering the Dark Guilds abhor making spectacles like this. The Dark Guilds, unless when forced, would never leave the safety of the dark.”

“Indeed. But until the boy wakes up and ask him why he was being chased in the first place, contemplating won’t do us any good. It’s best to do the things that we can until then.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll handle things from here. When he wakes up, I’ll inform you as soon as possible.”

“Thanks. I’ll leave it all to you.“

Afterwards, Alaric looked towards the direction of the sun.

“I need to head back; being late will only serve to infuriate those old fools even more.”

He sighed at the prospect of meeting them. And Astolfo laughed once more at his pitiful sight.

“Those ‘old fools’ are your equals. You should be proud that you’re the youngest to earn the title of Knight-Master.”

“We both know that the right to boast isn’t the only thing granted by the title. There are responsibilities. Responsibilities that I would rather not have.” Alaric cried, and shook his head. “At least with this, I would have more leeway when I am out in the field. Inform me when he does wake up--I feel this kid is more than what he seems. We’ll meet again, soon, if luck merits it.”

And with that as a farewell, Alaric went off, heading towards the center where the

Great Keep was located. What remained was Astolfo and two mangled corpses.

And by then, Astolfo directed his attention towards one of the mangled corpse.

Amazing swordplay as usual—I expect no less from a Master. A clean diagonal cut; looks like he didn’t even realized that he was already cut in half... Admirable as always, Alaric. The gap between us grows wider and wider. Your level, I’ll reached it eventually--after all, to persevere is our strength.

This time, his view changed to the boy who was sleeping soundly on the ground.

And you, my boy. What secrets do you hold? For the Dark Guilds are not that brash to willingly risk offending our Order for a mere boy. It seems the winds of strife have finally reached our gates. Even the Order won’t stay unharmed when faced with a gale far surpassing the ones we had experienced before...

[font=ＭＳ 明朝]- - - - - - - - - -[/font]

A massive building reaching as high as one of the garguantuan trees that could be found in a Great Forest was established as the center of the city of Ramorra--it was the Great Keep of the Order.

The building when viewed from afar or upclose, could easily make any man who had seen it feel a sense of inferiority but at the same time, also a deep sense of achievement. After all, this was a structure that was built by man! A structure with a scale that could rival any of the trees in a Great Forest in terms of height.

The Great Keep was where the founding of the Order occurred. It had acted as the heart of the city ever since. Since that day, the city grew alongside with its Knights; both in size and in power, eventually reaching a point where it could easily contend with any of the Kingdoms of Humankind.

It should be more fitting to say that any of the Keeps in the Order were more comparable to the strategic Fortresses of the other Kingdoms. Because the scale of the city of Ramorra far surpassed the boundaries of what could be defined as a ‘city.’ Naturally, the Great Keep was no exception to the rule. Thus, essentially, within the walls of Ramorra, at its heart laid a Fortress of immense size. An awe-inspiring view that was to be admired and feared by all.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

At the outermost reaches of the Great Keep, and at one of its four massive gates was a lone knight--It was Alaric, whom was heading inside. With the sole objective of meeting the ‘old fools,’ his pace was unlike his leisurely stroll but more of a man making haste. But his face was nonchalant and relaxed still.

His goal was to reach the Tower of Ramorra, a tower situated wtihin the inner confines of the Great Keep. An area closed off and only accessible by distinguished or high-ranking individuals of the Order—it was a place for the worthy and the capable.

Eventually he had reached his goal, and was now at the very top. What stood in front of him was a vast hallway leading to an imposing but majestic door; even from afar, Alaric could clearly see the magnificence the door was eager to portray—for it had a relief of a Knight clutching onto a sword perpendicular to the ground, as if to say that it eternally stood vigilant in its watch. On the Knight’s sword were runes --now forgotten and forever lost-- which softly glowed, basking the hallway in an eerie light. And the armor it wore was impressive beyond comparison, even if it was a relief and nothing more. Above the Knight was a plaque engraved with similarly glowing words, divided into three lines.

An expression of veneration naturally flowed across Alaric’s face when he gazed upon this life-like relief, to the point that he unconsciously stopped in his tracks as if he was dazed. A soft murmur could be heard from him.

“...Ramorra, the first Knight. The first King of Knights.”

He shook his head to regain his wits and proceeded on. Both hands on the towering door, he heaved with force-- gradually opening it as the door bellowed out under its immense weight, the sound eventually echoing down the hallway he came from.

Soft rays of light increased in intensity from the gaps. And as the light from the room reached his eyes, what could be seen in front were multiple round tables of differing sizes--and each table had an entourage of Knights, with the largest table capable of seating ten. Some still had empty seats, while the others were already filled. The room was filled with the soft murmurs of people conversing—apparently because they were still waiting for someone.

As soon as the gap was wide enough for him to walk in, he immediately went off for the largest table which had one vacant seat left. And as he did, a grey-haired man who had the vivid signs of age and his own fair share of hardships –indicated by the long scar that snaked across his right eye and face-- immediately reproached him in a voice that would frighten a newborn infant.

“...Alaric. You’re late. Again.”

“I apologise. I encountered... problems on my way here. For the moment, it’s unfitting for me to discuss the details, but it would require our utmost attention if my fears were to be true.”

“Noted. We will discuss this with the other Masters as soon as this summons end.”

After the grey-haired man said that, his gaze settled upon a gate of light. The gate of light was mesmerizing to look at--it had a certain feel to it that would leave anyone dazed and enchanted by its inner workings. For the light contained, shifted and heaved in a way not too dissimilar to the gentle waves of a sea.

“It seems you’re not the only one who’s late. The Grandmasters and the King too, haven’t arrived yet. It appears that this sudden summons won’t be as ordinary as the ones before.”

“Apparently so, Sir Kastador. Apparently so.”

Alaric nodded at the grey-haired man’s words. But in return, he received a soft rebuke instead.

“In the ranks of us Masters, all of us are equal. There’s no need for honorifics among our ranks. I have suggested this to you multiple times now to drop the ‘Sir.’”

“That may be so, Sir Kastador. But that’s only in terms of our status as Masters. While I am indeed your equal in authority, I wholeheartedly believe that I am far from being your match in terms of prowess in combat. Thus, just let me be-- for it is just my show of utmost respect to you, not as an official, but as a Knight who admires strength. After all, I have trodden the path of a Knight because of you.”

As a response, Kastador, in contrast to his demonic appearance, let out a gentle sigh.

“Fine. Admittedly, though, the one known as the ‘Death Knight’ whom can never be reasoned out once on the battlefield, is surprisingly good with words.”

Alaric, with wide-eyes, laughed at the sudden quip of this demonic old man.

“Indeed. After all, one of the requirements in being a Knight is to be educated. And believe me, Grandfather-- I hated every moment while I was in those classes. If not for my dream of following your footsteps, I would rather be an Adventurer than a Knight.”

This time, it was Kastador who was wide-eyed. But it gave off a terrifying visage instead of a comical look because of that scar. And before proceeding on, a soft smile enveloped his face--like that of a parent who was proud.

“And you did not disappoint, my boy. While you do have some flaws in your etiquette as a Knight, but none would definitely find you lacking in your determination in fulfilling your responsibilities as a Knight. If your Father was here, he too, would be proud.”

“...I hope so, Grandfather. It’s unfortunate that he could not be here today. I definitely would like to show him on how his ‘troublesome son’ back then is now his equal in status.”

“I can say for sure my boy, that he would be very surprised indeed. You were really a handful back then, after all. The thought to him of you becoming a Knight was

definitely an impossible occurrence.”

But before the conversation between the two could be continued. The gate of light churned like it was trying to overcome a storm. All of the knights immediately stopped and stood in attention as it did so.

And when they did, a figure after another appeared from its depths, with the light receding and cascading back each time. Like it was resonating--oscillating in order to break through the bonds of physical laws.

Each figure held an aura of power, especially apparent by their disposition; one had the posture of a general overlooking the battlefield; another, a warrior radiating with absolute bloodlust;  a man with a cold, calculating gaze that could easily see through any guise and lies; a woman with impeccable beauty that made any man gasp in sight; even an elder was among their ranks, whose appearance could only be described as overflowing with wisdom and experience; and a simple man armed with a staff embedded on top with a glowing azure orb, fitted with a robe.

And the last figure that came out, easily dominated the atmosphere of the room--completely overlapping the figures from before. He was by far the least-equipped when compared to everyone in the room, but no one could underestimate his strength.

And as soon as each figure appeared from the gate of light, each one immediately proceeded to one of the eleven seats in front, with the last figure taking the center seat. From the eleven seats, seven had been filled.

When the last figure took his seat, he spoke out with a voice that could entice a nation to his rule.

“At ease, my Knights!”