⚠️ Warning
This work contains scenes of physical harm/bodily injury to a submissive character.
Please keep this in mind before reading.
Prologue
When taking the Academy entrance examination, all students are asked the same question.
“Do you believe in God?”
Most students would work hard to prove the sincerity and depth of their faith. Some might even recite passages from theology texts they’d studied in advance, hoping to leave even the smallest favorable impression on the admissions officer.
But Luka had no need for any of that.
“No, I don’t. Am I required to?”
It came across less like a profession of belief and more like asking whether he needed to prepare a certificate or credential that everyone else had submitted. Had any other student given such a sacrilegious answer, the admissions officer would have pointed straight to the door — told them to get up and get out. But for Luka alone, he offered a gentle smile.
“Not at all. You are, after all, this year’s sole candidate for the ‘Special Temple Knight’ — a position that selects only one person annually.”
A position where even the faith required of everyone else was unnecessary. It was a privilege granted exclusively to the single ‘Special Temple Knight’ chosen each year, in a fiercely competitive arena where some hundred or so temple knights were otherwise selected.
“That said, please refrain from openly displaying your disbelief or mocking theology. Your fellow Academy students, who will be educated alongside you, would be saddened by it.”
To mock and ridicule others for believing in something he himself did not — that would be arrogant. Luka was not the kind of person with such poor character.
“I know that much myself. I’ll attend theology classes diligently.”
“Then I have nothing more to say. Here — if you’d sign this registration form agreeing to your enrollment as a ‘Special Temple Knight’ candidate, we can conclude the interview.”
What the admissions officer extended to him was a simple written oath. Luka looked at the smooth paper document with unfamiliar eyes, then calmly read through the lines written upon it. Most of the text appeared to be guidelines for life at the Academy. However, one particular clause caught Luka’s eye.
Special Clause
A ‘Special Temple Knight’ candidate is permitted to carry weapons on Academy grounds; however, if the candidate injures or kills another person, they shall be subject to immediate summary execution.
A chilling warning. A warning that every privilege Luka enjoyed was contingent upon his life. It was a clause that an ordinary student simply attending the Academy and sitting through professors’ lectures could never have imagined.
Luka picked up the pen without hesitation. He’d heard this content so many times before he’d even set foot in this place — there was nothing to hesitate over.
Scratch, scratch.
The sound of an old pen nib dragging across paper filled the room, and Luka’s name was written in full upon the oath — a document produced only once a year.
“We’re done. Someone will come shortly to guide you through the school and dormitory, so take your time looking around.”
Luka gave a small nod and rose from his seat. The admissions officer stood as well, as if to see him off, then opened his mouth as though something had just occurred to him.
“Ah — but with such exceptional swordsmanship, why did you choose to put yourself forward as a Special Temple Knight? As you know… it’s quite a dangerous and grueling line of work.”
It sounded almost like asking: with skills like yours, you could join a professional combat unit and enjoy both wealth and honor — so why come here, without even a belief in God?
Luka opened the door to leave and cast a brief glance back at the man. His clear, pale blue eyes held the admissions officer’s gaze as if enchanted.
The answer he delivered with calm indifference was a reason even a man who had spent long years as an admissions officer had never once heard.
“Because I can wear decent clothes, eat without worrying about my next meal, and sleep somewhere comfortable for the rest of my life.”
Because of the thoroughly worldly advantage of having food, clothing, and shelter secured. And of all places — at this theological school, so far removed from worldly things.
Thud.
When Luka shut the heavy door and disappeared, only the admissions officer remained in the interview room, expression completely blank. Slowly coming back to his senses, he stared at the closed door and let out a quiet laugh.
“Ha… good grief. A nonbeliever who came here just to live comfortably, and he’s the Special Temple Knight. I suppose someone who deals in human lives needs that level of cynicism, does he?”
Shaking his head, he tidied up the oath Luka had signed. Beneath it, overlapping with the back of the page, was a sheet densely filled with materials attesting to Luka’s abilities.
A record of sweeping every manner of swordsmanship competition, and of capturing vicious wanted criminals with bounties on their heads. There had been times he’d even killed — but even those were justified as self-defense carried out to prevent harm by heinous offenders.
Consistent across every one of those records was the amount of prize money and reward collected. His sword was full of the marks of survival — of fighting to eat and live. It was the most incongruous streak of mercenary pragmatism one could find in an Academy that was meant to uphold sacred laws.
“Luka! What was that sword dance performance today?! You must be out of your mind!”
“Wow, I genuinely couldn’t close my mouth! Was that what you were secretly practicing in the training hall all this time?”
“Luka, Luka! You’re seriously the best — I watched you completely spellbound!”
“I can’t wait for the second performance this afternoon!”
Watching his Academy classmates burst into bright laughter, Luka didn’t even bother to respond and bolted away. One might expect them to feel hurt by his dismissive attitude, but his classmates seemed perfectly used to it, only growing more delighted.
“There he goes, being embarrassed again — haha!”
Luka, face flushed bright red as he fled, couldn’t even hear his classmates’ teasing voices behind him. He wiped the sweat that had drenched his face from the sword dance performance and muttered under his breath.
“God… nobody told me being a Special Temple Knight candidate meant doing embarrassing things like this.”
He’d simply assumed he would just take swordsmanship classes, complete the Academy curriculum, and then become a Special Temple Knight straightaway.
The grandest holiday of the year — invited to the royal palace for a banquet attended by royalty and nobility alike — and he’d had to perform a sword dance on top of it all. That was something he never could have imagined.
Dancing a beautiful, elaborate sword dance in front of an audience. For someone with Luka’s personality, it was an impossible task — he’d run from it desperately — but in the end, there was no escaping it.
That was simply what being a Special Temple Knight candidate meant. Because of the privileges he enjoyed, he also had to bear the humiliating duties that others did not.
“Still, they could at least use me in moderation. Terrible people…”
The place Luka had fled to, away from prying eyes, was a corridor tucked in a corner of the royal palace. Only after confirming there was no sign of anyone nearby did he lean against the corridor wall and catch his breath.
“They said there’s a second sword dance this afternoon… isn’t that pushing it a bit too hard? God…”
Luka half-resigned himself to his state — sweat streaming down him even while standing perfectly still. His weary gaze fell on the ceremonial robes he was wearing.
The robes were white, densely covered in gold embroidery. They were sacred vestments meant to beseech God’s mercy, but to Luka they felt closer to a heavy, solemn straitjacket.
Damp with sweat and clinging uncomfortably to his skin, not to mention completely lacking in breathability, they made him feel as though he’d pulled on the inside skin of some living beast — nothing but unpleasant.
Temple knights typically wore these robes only during official ceremonies and rites. Which meant students in Academy training like Luka were ordinarily not entitled to wear them.
But in special circumstances like today — where he had to demonstrate a sword dance before the King — Luka was granted special permission to wear them, and only Luka.
Luka was not the type to preen and show off at such special treatment. He was far more inclined to simply pour out complaints and grievances.
“…Normally they say something like traditional swordsmanship is outdated and they’re not interested — yet at moments like these, they torment people by saying they want to watch more. How lovely.”
It was hardly surprising that the King and nobles had no concern for an Academy student’s suffering, but feeling hurt by his friends was unavoidable.
“You said you’d been using a sword even before you entered the Academy, right? You already have real combat skills like that — does learning traditional swordsmanship actually help you?”
They’d sneered at him like that, yet at moments like this, they stood there with their mouths open in admiration and envy.
“…Fine, what’s the point of being resentful toward friends. I came to the Academy knowing it would be like this.”
Selected just once a year — the gloriously named Special Temple Knight candidate. In other words: a guard dog who personally picks up a blade and fights against danger on behalf of the temple knights.
The noble temple knights despised and were repulsed by the idea of getting blood on their own hands. And yet, being a profession easily entangled in all manner of political strife, the internal power struggles were fierce.
They needed an obedient guard dog who would protect their lives and take on the dirty work in their stead. That was the Special Temple Knight. To outsiders it might look like honorable work — protecting the esteemed temple knights — but the reality was closer to being an all-purpose errand hand who had to handle any troublesome task that arose.
Free meals and a place to sleep without worry — that’s what I came here for. But it seems the work is even dirtier than I expected. Well, I prepared myself for that, so no complaints.
Luka had a fairly clear-eyed understanding of himself. Even if his swordsmanship was superior to others’, he was not the type to be diligent or skilled enough to throw himself into combat with his life on the line.
Rather than participating in some great and glorious battle, he’d always dreamed of a quiet, easy life — eating and sleeping in reasonable comfort. On top of that, he’d been born into a household that wasn’t well-off, barely able to put food on the table. Entering the Academy to study in peace and getting free meals and a place to sleep — wasn’t that the best outcome possible?
Either way, I’ve decided to make my living by the sword. Whether I kill wanted criminals out there or kill people threatening the temple knights here — it’s the same thing. Actually, this has better justification, doesn’t it?
He’d been imagining a future of staining his own hands with blood on behalf of the noble temple knights — then shook his head.
“Enough, stop thinking pointless thoughts.”
In the meantime, his sweat had cooled, and his dark hair fell softly across his face. The warm sunlight settling over his head glittered like scattered glass beads. He almost believed in that moment that the peace of now would last forever.
Shhhhhhh.
A strange wind blew. Something obscured the sun, and a deep, dark shadow fell across the corridor. Driving away the warmth and rolling in its place — a creeping dread that brushed against Luka’s sharp senses.
“…?”
He turned his head without thinking, and froze at the sight before him — something he had never seen in his entire life.
What had draped itself across the clear sky above was not storm clouds. It was an enormous collection of steel islands — so vast they blocked out the sun entirely.
