Chapter 364: Redefining the Knight
“It seems, Dean Borien, that you do not quite agree with the recognition that a Fourth-Tier individual may already be called a knight?” Priest Agamemnon suddenly asked.
“No, no, no…” Borien quickly waved his hands. How would he dare to respond to such a question?
He explained, “I only think that the Glory Knight Academy was built under the guidance of the Church of the Sanctuary. When Your Excellency gave the order back then, you said the Glory Knight Academy should preserve the brilliance of human knighthood. Therefore, I merely have some standards for those who can teach at the academy.”
Agamemnon looked seriously at Borien.
Back then, the Pope had still resided in the Clock Tower, and all commands were transmitted through Agamemnon. Naturally, he remembered this matter clearly.
What he had not expected was that Knight Borien, even though he had chosen to remain ‘unnoticed,’ had truly followed through with that idealistic standard.
Agamemnon roughly understood why the Glory Knight Order, the Glory Knight Academy, and even Knight Borien himself had little presence in public.
Still, that way of handling matters suited Borien’s personality perfectly.
Agamemnon knew that Knight Borien had once been used by his liege as a “pretext for war.” Although he had survived afterward, he had lost his nominal nephew—who was, in truth, his own son.
After that, Borien had been among the first to maintain a friendly relationship with the Church. Yet, even now, that friendship had only preserved his life. His family remained a small farming household, active only around nearby villages and York City.
Compared to others who had prospered through their ties with the Church, he was virtually invisible.
Barely better than the vanished Daniels Family—at least he still lived.
Look at Aen now—he had already become the Supreme King of the North.
However…
Agamemnon suddenly thought that Knight Borien’s way of thinking might be put to use.
As the thought formed, a faint, indifferent smile appeared on Agamemnon’s face. He said, “You have done very well.”
Borien froze for a moment, not quite understanding what he had done so well.
Perhaps Priest Agamemnon recognized his work as the academy’s dean? he thought uncertainly.
Not daring to dwell on it, Borien quickly led Agamemnon on the tour.
Beyond the Hall of Knights was a vast training field. To Agamemnon’s eyes, it was large enough for three thousand knights to drill in formation.
Even for cavalry charge training, this ground was sufficient.
Now, that immense field was occupied by a group of people engaged in some form of instruction.
There were about a hundred in total—ten or so adults, and the rest, youths.
Around the field stood only a few stables and a shed serving as a warehouse, one stable filled with tethered horses.
“Five days ago, the Adrian Territory sent eighteen Oath Knights here,” Borien explained. “They carried a letter of command from Bishop Marl, requesting that these knights learn how to fight using magic. At present, Knight Brand is teaching them.”
“Of course, since it’s rare to see Oath Knights, we also brought our students here. I thought that their interaction with the Oath Knights would help the children understand what a true knight truly is.”
Borien’s tone carried genuine delight.
Agamemnon glanced at the group, then at Borien. “You acknowledge these Oath Knights as the kind of ‘knights’ you recognize?” he asked.
“Of course,” Borien replied at once. “They are Oath Knights who uphold vows worthy of song. If that were not so, I would not have agreed to teach them magical combat.”
“When I studied magical combat in the monastery,” Borien continued, “the Pope instructed me to pass this method to the knights. I once asked His Holiness—should it be only for Fourth-Tier Knights, or for those officially recognized by the Knight Academy?”
“And the Pope told me—‘of course, it should be the steadfast knights you yourself recognize.’ His Holiness said that this method of magical combat could unleash a knight’s true destructive potential. If it were learned by those who merely worship violence rather than embody knighthood, it would bring disaster to the common folk.”
“After all, even the Northern Barbarians’ Fourth-Tier warriors can be called ‘knights’ if they disguise themselves as such—but you know their nature,” Borien said, thinking he had made a humorous northern joke.
Agamemnon gave a polite chuckle in response.
“The Pope also said that while magical combat isn’t a secret technique, at the very least, those knights studying in the Glory Knight Academy should be recognized as true knights.”
Borien’s voice brimmed with pride. It was, after all, the Pope himself who had affirmed his work.
“I see…” Agamemnon murmured. A firm decision settled in his mind.
He said, “You must have heard that the Senate plans to establish a Knight Guild.”
Borien nodded. “Of course. You came here to ask if we will submit to the guild?”
Agamemnon shook his head. “No. I am searching for a knight who could serve as the guild’s president.”
Knight Borien blinked, suddenly understanding. “So, you are here for those Oath Knights—to see which vows they uphold?”
He thought it reasonable. Since it was a Knight Guild, if its president were not a senator, then only Knight George or Knight Richard could fill the role.
But since Knight George belonged to the Church itself, that might be inconvenient—and Priest Agamemnon surely knew him well.
So, the choice likely concerned Knight Richard, and observing his Oath Knights would reveal his convictions.
Yet Agamemnon unexpectedly said, “No. I think Knight Borien is most suited to serve as the guild’s president.”
Borien froze, staring in disbelief.
“You should still remember,” Agamemnon said, “what I told you when you founded the Knight Academy. Over these years, you have upheld those words clearly—and you have defined, through action, what a true knight should be.”
“You have done well, Knight Borien. Thus, I believe you are most suitable to become the president of the Knight Guild.”
Borien instinctively wanted to refuse—but Agamemnon had invoked those words from long ago.
“…As members of the Glory Knight Order, you must bear the honor of knighthood. You must come to understand every knightly order—those beneath the Cross and those beyond it, whether noble or vile… You must preserve the glimmers of humanity within them, and let those glimmers be passed down.”
Borien had always remembered that command—it was a sacred mission.
Now that Agamemnon mentioned it again, he found himself unable to refuse.
He even wondered if, when Agamemnon had first told him to establish the Knight Academy, he had already planned for this moment.
Borien thought of Corleon—he had witnessed Corleon’s journey from an orphaned monk adopted by an old priest, to the officiant of the Flower Church, then to a bishop of the Church of the Sanctuary, and finally to the Pope himself.
In hindsight, every decision Corleon had made, once misunderstood, had proven right in the end.
He also remembered that bishops of the Church often received divine revelations. After Knight Bode departed, Bishop Corleon had granted them a new flag and new armor the very next day.
After long silence, Borien finally spoke. “I do not yet know what duties the president of a Knight Guild must fulfill.”
Hearing that, Agamemnon smiled—the answer he had waited for.
He said, “The Scholar Guild led by Councilor Jeffrey has already established a hierarchy among scholars, giving each rank a distinct title. Thereafter, every scholar in the kingdom must undergo this evaluation, which also determines their privileges and position.”
“So, I think you could follow the Scholar Guild’s example and create a hierarchy for knights.”
“I agree with your belief that not every Fourth-Tier individual possesses the will of a true knight. Thus, you may establish separate standards. Meanwhile, Councilor Puniel at the Warrior Guild would surely welcome a structure that includes Fourth-, Fifth-, even Sixth-Tier warriors.”
The Glory Knight Academy lacked public prominence, but it was far from closed off. Naturally, Borien had heard of the newly popular scholar hierarchy.
Yet as he looked at Agamemnon’s calm, smiling face, he could sense deeper intentions behind it.
Still, Borien thought back on the two great turning points of his life—once when he had been appointed a knight by Viscount Helvin, and once when he chose to remain in Glory Fortress rather than follow the ‘liege’ who had granted him his second knighthood.
So, Borien nodded. “However, knights are difficult to divide into eight ranks. In truth…”
Agamemnon interrupted him gently. “You are the president of the Knight Guild and the dean of the Glory Knight Academy. Once you finalize your idea, simply present it to me. What I’ve said is merely a reference—I am not a knight, after all.”
“This is no longer the chaotic Old Testament era. It is the orderly New Testament Era.”
Agamemnon lifted his head, gazing at the blazing sun without flinching.
“In the past, because the sun shone golden, people called it the Morning Star; and because the moon was pale white, they named it the White Star, treating them as stars among others.”
“But after the New Testament, the Holy Scriptures clearly defined their names—the sun and the moon. The sun marks the beginning of the day, the moon its end. No one questioned it, for it felt as though it had always been so.”
“That is the transformation brought by the New Testament—to rename all things, to make all things new.”
“Once, the meaning of knighthood required ennoblement by a noble’s decree. But that belonged to the Old Testament’s rules. In this New Testament Era, is mere strength enough to make one a knight? Yet if only strength defines knighthood, then how are knights different from warriors?”
“To a Third-Tier Warrior, the Fourth Tier seems insurmountably powerful. To a commoner, even a Third-Tier Warrior is beyond reach. If strength alone is the standard, then under different circumstances, a Third-Tier Warrior could also be called a knight.”
“And the North also has Fourth-Tier warriors—their ‘braves.’ Why should they not also be called knights?”
“Even the title of hero—does it praise virtue, or merely power? If only those of Sixth Tier can be called heroes, then would any child still dream of becoming one?”
Agamemnon finally looked straight into Borien’s eyes. His words made Borien’s heart tremble.
“So, you must redefine—what kind of person truly deserves to be called a knight.”