Vega City, The Setareh Vespera Basilica

"The White Knight will be reborn into the world?" The Pope, the highest authority of the Holy Flame Theocracy, asked with a cold glint in his eyes. He was an old man, nearing his late fifties, but the years of stress managing the theocracy made him look almost 70.

"Indeed. The goddess Ardere revealed this to me mere moments ago." The woman wearing a blindfold responded. In a shockingly sharp contrast, his only peer looked to be in her mid-to-late 20s, still maintaining her beauty and seductive allure. "On the brightest night in the continent's history, walking out a landscape of hellfire and purgatory, the White Knight shall be born anew, washed in the flames of judgement."

This woman was the Oracle, or more infamously, the Infernal Maiden. She was a diviner—a being who could see the future. Calling her a diviner even felt somewhat insulting. Among the diviners, who were already rarities, she was something more unique. A far more special being.

"Where are they?" He asked, his tone apathetic. It wasn't that he didn't care, but that a mundane task such as an extraction wouldn't even cause a strain on his resources. "We will have to fetch them quickly before anything happens."

"In one of the victis villages, near the Bewildering Forests. A child who recently awakened,", she abruptly said, a cunning smile on her face.

The pope grimaced, glaring at the oracle.

"You…" He held back his tongue. Allowing his annoyance to damn him here was not an option. "How exactly do you want me to do this, hm?"

"My, my, is the Great Pope scared of a sleeping dog?" She said this, wearing a coy grin on her face.

"Ever heard the expression, leave sleeping dogs be?" He remarked. Quietly, he sighed and put his hand on his head, rubbing his temple.

The Bewildering Forests were located on the outskirts of the Dura Region of the Xander Kingdom. Meaning, it was safeguarded by the Bizelli Family, a ducal family famously known for their Hunting Hounds. No major power could step into their territory without being sniffed out.

Even then, considering it was a Victis village located in the Neutral Ground, it was somewhat harder. If rumours were to spread of some of his men taking a child from the Neutral Ground, the Allied Northern Nations and Great Ahmar Empire would start to investigate the theocracy.

A common solution would be to hire mercenaries from the Crimson Sea to handle it, but then again, trusting a mission as important as this to crass mercenaries who didn't even have a 70% chance of mission success was completely out of the question.

The only ones he could delegate this mission to were members of the Black Hand, but even then, it was quite a tedious choice. Any risky moves made now could easily result in an extremely difficult situation.

The pope could feel himself ageing by the second.

"Certainly, but even you can't deny just how important the White Knight is to our cause." She said. "Even I am not certain when another one will be born."

The Pope looked at the Infernal Maiden. Truly, the title of Infernal would aptly describe what this woman had put him through in their years together.

"If you acquire the White Knight, I shall tell you how I retain my youthful form." The oracle added.

"Maybe it is worth looking into, after all." He gave in, a smirk now present on his face.

"I am pleased you are willing to look into it.", With that said, the oracle sat up and took her leave, accompanied by her twin acolytes.

As the old pope sat alone in the silence of the room, resting his head on his fist in thought, he looked out the window.

The Great Eternal Flame, blessed to them by their goddess, burned brightly in the centre of the city. A white, ethereal flame large enough that it put the mansion of a well-renowned Earl to shame and heat so intense it could be felt from at least half a kilometre away. Day or night, rain or shine, the eternal flame has never been quelled.

According to religious texts, this Holy Flame was the very first one in the world, and it would go on to be the last one.

As he looked at the blessed flame, his mind, normally a conglomeration of varying information, could only focus on one thing.

"The White Knight, huh?" He muttered to himself, a frown on his face.

***

Back in the Victis Village

Lisa had no faith in the existence of magic.

That is, till the day she saw a man cut a dragon in half with nothing but an iron sword. Ever since that moment, her life had been quite the experience.

Somehow, she was now in a nameless village, in the middle of nowhere, raising a fireball summoning child alone for half the year. It was quite a twist of fate that it left her seated in front of the fireplace, simply observing the crackling flames.

Even right now, as she looked at the bright orange flames, all she could think about was her faith.

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According to the religious texts beaten into her ears from an early age, the Cruel Father, out of pure spite for the Undying Mother, found a way to turn her beautiful creations ugly. Turning the sea salty and non-consumable. Willing the winds to turn violent and carelessly thrash about the lands. Tricking the ground to split apart and swallow those walking on it.

Supposedly, the most painful of all was the sun. He had turned his domain into an endless field of red-hot fire that would tear and sear the skin of anyone who entered. Should such a thing become a reality, there would be no way for the Undying Mother's creations to survive.

Fortunately, the Undying Mother and the Cruel Father came to an agreement to damn only the sinful and unworthy in this hellish field.

The flames burned brighter, and the crackling echoed louder, giving an eerie ambiance to the lonesome hall.

The door to the house opened, and with it came slow, light footsteps to disrupt the quiet. Belfry had returned.

That was odd. Belfry would usually have been back home much earlier than this, when the sun was still out. Even his footsteps were less energetic than usual. Maybe today was a particularly tough and extensive class.

Lisa stood up to go check on her dear child.

The child, a beautiful little boy with honey blonde hair, walked towards her, his scarlet-red eyes downcast. It was an unusual scene for the child.

Quietly and despondently, he hugged her legs and buried his face in her clothes. Lisa gently placed her hands on his shoulder and knelt down to get closer to his face.

"Belfry? What's the matter?" She asked. Her voice was calm and welcoming. She lifted his chin so their eyes could meet, but the boy just looked away, unwilling to respond to her.

'Was Lola too hard on him?' She thought, quite confused about what was happening. 'Well, no point in just wasting time doing nothing here.'

"Why don't you go take a bath upstairs, then come help me make dinner? You'll tell me about your day, and I'll tell you about mine. Deal?" She suggested, pushing her forehead forward to meet his.

The boy replicated her actions, gently connecting his forehead to hers. "Yeah. I'd like that."

He pulled himself back, then dragged his weary up the stairs. With a smile, Lisa simply walked to the dining room to set things up. If possible, she would like to do everything before the boy finished, so she could spend all her attention on him.

As she sifted through the cooking utensils, the door to the house creaked open. Heavy footsteps rang thunderously through the house, and with them came a pungent, gut-churning metallic scent.

"Who-?" Lisa held her tongue when she turned. Upon seeing this, her eyes widened, and she dropped the pan she was holding. Her first instinct was to run towards the unusual scene, where she placed her hands all over the person's body. "Roland! W-What happened? Are you alright?"

Drenched in blood and littered with arrows sticking out of his body, the young man in his early twenties glared at his wife. His grip on his sword tightened the more she ran her hands through his body, trying to fix him up.

Lisa had noticed this but fearlessly attended to him. It was painful for her to admit it, but she'd seen Roland in worse states. Hell, they're first time meeting each other, Roland had arm-length needles sticking out of his chest and was unable to move.

She grabbed one of the arrows. Tugged on it, and when he didn't show any reaction, she deemed it safe to pull out.

Just then, Roland's sword clattered to the ground, freeing up his hand to grab Lisa by the shoulders.

He looked her deep in the eye, a sort of madness building up in them.

Lisa's body shook and her body jolted at the firm grip Roland had on her. His cobalt eyes started to glow electric blue, and his body seemed to grow larger, making Lisa feel small.

"Leave this house! Leave this village!", he roared, throwing her to the side. Her body collided with the wall before falling to the ground. "By the time the morning sun touches the sky, you and that... that bastard brat better have been gone from the house."

He swept his cape out of his way as he turned to the staircase.

"No." Interrupting his thunderous stride, a weak voice came. He turned around, only to find Lisa struggling to sit up. "I-I refuse to do this anymore."

Weakly, she stood up and puffed out her humble chest.

"Belfry is your son. I'm your wife. I love you, and I'm not going to leave you here alone." She declared, her face stern yet warm. "You may think I'm stupid. And I don't know what you're doing, thinking, or saying. But I do. I know you don't mean anything you say and that you do love Belfry and me. I know you are just pretendin-"

A wicked slap sent Lisa's body collapsing to the ground. She looked up slowly, her hand on her red-hot cheek and her eyes shaky. Rather than seeing Roland, all she could see was a monstrous beast in the skin of the man she'd fallen for.

"I don't know what you think you know. But let us get one thing straight." He growled, looming over her like a wolf over a rabbit. "I don't love. I've never loved you. And I never will. I only wanted you for your body, but you couldn't even keep that to me alone. Not that it was anything special, even. You won't leave? Fine. I'll just kill you and that pathetic excuse for a child you birthed."

He grabbed her by the arm and lifted her a whole foot above the ground, allowing their eyes to meet on equal levels. Lisa started to cough out a handful of blood when Roland's balled-up fist connected with her abdomen.

"Seriously, who did you think would believe that the brat was mine?", He dropped her to the ground. "Though it makes sense. The child of a stupid maid would obviously be stupid."

"Wh-what did I do wrong, huh?"

"Hm?"

"I-I loved you. After years of this... of you. You and your harsh treatment! Did I not devote myself to you faithfully? Did I not perform the actions of a wife? Never cheating, only caring for my husband, performing house duties, and giving my body up even when I didn't feel like it. I did everything right! So... so why is this happening... to... me?"

Although shouting this to Roland, deep down in her heart, Lisa knew she wasn't talking to him. Even now, as he was mistreating her, she still loved him. She couldn't explain why she did, except to think, "There has to be a reason he's doing all of this."

So, in this moment, her rage was directed not towards him but at the very thing that had misled her. To the scriptures that convinced her that so long as she performed her duties, nothing terrible would happen. To her stupid mother, who beat this faith into her at an earlier age. To the supposed all-caring, all-loving, all-merciful, Undying Mother.

Even now, she felt as though she was already burning up.

"The hell are you shouting for? Just hurry up and die.", Roland clicked his tongue in distaste, coldly kicking her on the ground.

Each of his kicks felt lifeless and void of any true rage. Almost mechanical and dead set on simply causing the most physical pain imaginable.

On the ground, while being kicked, Lisa could not determine which was worse. The physical pain going through her body or the sense of betrayal and abandonment she felt from her goddess.

A harrowing gale blew up in the house, causing the fireplace to go out. Roland, confused, was lifted off his feet and thrown about by the wind, smacking him against the walls. Quickly, he tried to manoeuvre out of it, but his head hit up against the wall, knocking him out cold.

Lisa looked up after a moment of not being kicked anymore, only to find Roland's body sprawled all over the ground, unconscious. The room, a bit dark and tinged orange by the dusk sun, fell quiet under heavy steps.

From the staircase, a pair of red eyes glowed brightly. The face scowled at the unconscious body as the owner formed a ball of fire in their hand, aimed at the body.

"I'll burn you to a crisp."