The Female Knight of Doom - TFKOD 62: Crisis on the Road

The Duchess of Felix’s visits to the God of Light followed a solemn and prescribed ritual. She would begin by paying homage before the sacred statue of the god, then present a bouquet of flowers to both the God of Light and the Goddess, articulating the customary words that beseeched divine favor for smooth and prosperous endeavors.

Following this, she would entrust her offerings, in the form of monetary donations, to the high priest, marking the conclusion of the ceremonial act. During this sacred moment, the most devout worshippers would enter the designated prayer chamber within the temple, seeking deeper communion with the divine through meditation and prayer. Yet, the duchess was not among these fervent adherents.

If, by some chance, the God of Light chose to communicate directly with her, she would be plagued by a debilitating headache. To prevent such unwelcome encounters, she refrained from entering the prayer room altogether. Nonetheless, she would spend considerable time in silent prayer before the statue of the God of Light, her devotion expressed through quiet supplication.

The duchess’ safety was diligently secured within the sanctuary of the temple.

At this moment, Alice was reluctant to approach the statue of the God of Light to reveal her presence. Instead, she gracefully circled around to the dark figure of the God of Darkness, positioned behind the Light, her curiosity piqued as she admired the statues’ noble and commanding forms.

During her previous visit to the temple, she had lingered among the gods of the Light, never venturing toward the realm of the God of Darkness. This time, she subtly assumed the guise of a member of the Darkness, for she had genuine reasons to navigate this shadowed domain and to observe its mysteries more closely.

In an ideal realm of divine equality, the God of Darkness and the God of Light should have held equally revered stature. Yet, within the grand hall known as the “Temple of Light,” it was evident that his standing was far from the loftiness accorded to the God of Light.

The gods assembly was dominantly occupied by the God and Goddess of Light, and their six attendant gods, who together claimed four-fifths of the main chamber. In contrast, the God of Darkness and his three attendants were confined to the semicircular apse at the hall’s far end.

Sunbeams streaming through the stained glass skylight bathed the dome in radiant glow, casting a luminous halo upon the God of Light’s statue, rendering him majestic beyond compare. Behind him, Ludnir—the God of Darkness—stood with contemplative dignity, his head bowed modestly, giving him a seemingly shorter stature beside the luminous gods. His three attendants clustered near the curved wall, their gaze fixed upon the God of Darkness, underscoring the subtle hierarchy woven into this divine tableau.

In the realm of the Darkness, the God of Darkness stands solitary, unaccompanied by a goddess, and the notions of “husband and wife” or “life partner” hold no place within this world. If one were compelled to speak of a divine companion for the God of Darkness, it would be none other than Arne, the Goddess of Love and Lust.

Legend tells that Arne was once a mortal woman who, through seduction, won the affections of Ludnir, the God of Darkness, and was elevated to divine status, becoming his divine consort. She embodies not the virtues of fairness and justice but rather the opposite of Fragna, the Goddess of Family and Procreation.

While Alice harbored a deep dislike for Fragna, Arne was scarcely more agreeable. She could still vividly recall Lina’s expression when she mentioned Arne during her work at the tavern. Despite their feminine visages, these gods have become the source of much suffering for women.

Beside Arne, the attendants of the God of Darkness include Bacchus, the God of Wine, and Herdis, the God of Death. These three divine figures embody love, madness, and mortality, respectively. They stand in stark contrast to the God of Darkness, who appears immersed in profound contemplation.

An intricate metaphor seems to underpin this scene—a complexity that defies simple explanation. Only those with unwavering resolve to dedicate their lives to unraveling its mysteries can hope to glimpse its true meaning.

Notably, the temple lacks a designated prayer chamber for the followers of the God of Darkness; instead, a solitary kneeling cushion is placed symbolically at the center of the four gods. Though the cushion is new, a layer of dust upon it indicates that it has never been used.

Alice gently brushes the dust aside and takes a moment to rest upon it. Despite the absence of a fully enclosed chapel, this space feels more suited for meditation than a traditional sanctuary. Yet, as the duchess’ prayer session draws to a close, Alice knows she cannot linger here much longer.

She escorted the duchess out of the church and helped her by hand into the carriage. The coachman cracked his whip, and the two horses trotted off.

The duchess stuck her head out the window and asked, “Alice, I remember you don’t seem to believe in the Darkness.”

The duchess didn’t seem to want to blame her, and Alice was worried still, “Yes, the god I believe in is considered an outcast. Once people notice, it will cause disaster. Please forgive me for hiding this.”

“According to the customs of our West Felix, the lord may not interfere with the knight’s faith. But you will be traveling with me to the royal capital, so you must be extra careful. It’s not like West Felix. If something really does happen, not even I can protect you.”

Alice recognized that the duchess’ intention was truly considerate, and she was nodding thoughtfully when suddenly their carriage came to a halt, as if an obstacle lay directly ahead.

The duchess, seated within, could see nothing herself but turned to inquire, “Why has the carriage stopped?”

“Allow me to investigate,” Alice replied, a touch of nervousness in her voice, for she was unaccustomed to such unexpected interruptions and feared the worst.

She urged her horse forward and called out loudly to the front. A guard responded that a vegetable cart had broken its axle and was now blocking the road.

While such an incident could simply be a coincidence, Alice could not shake a sense of unease; it seemed too convenient that the road was obstructed at this precise moment. Lacking extensive experience and unprepared for unforeseen circumstances, she found herself without a plan.

On this day, Bennett and Arnold had been instructed to remain behind, leaving her alone with the duchess—without anyone to consult or advise her.

Though she felt a surge of unease, she maintained a composed exterior, addressing the duchess with calm assurance, “A broken carriage is obstructing the main road ahead; we shall take a detour.”

The duchess acquiesced with a nod.

Alice promptly signaled the coachman to reverse the horses and summoned a handful of guards for their protection. Turning onto an alternate street, they soon observed a crowd of individuals pushing through, their hurried movement appearing quite suspicious.

A chilling realization dawned—someone was clearly attempting to assassinate the duchess. Had they not made the swift decision to divert their route, they might have fallen prey to an ambush. Yet, the new path was not without peril; enemies could be lying in wait.

Tension coiled within Alice, her hand resting firmly on her sword’s hilt, prepared to defend at a moment’s notice. Her vigilance was justified; shortly after, a group of riders emerged ahead, evidently awaiting their arrival, their presence a stark reminder of the danger lurking in the shadows.

The passengers on the other side outnumbered them, and the duchess’ guards tensed.

Alice had never encountered a situation like this before, and she felt sweat dripping from her palms. If she were a mercenary, she would have retreated without a care. But this time, her goal was to protect the duchess.

She looked around. This wasn’t the main road, and it seemed a bit narrow. The riders on the other team blocked the way, and the carriage obviously couldn’t pass quickly. Furthermore, the carriage was too large a target, and it wasn’t flexible enough. It was easy to be exposed in a battle.

The number of passengers on the other side was equal to the number of guards on their side. The guards on their side could only provide support for a while anyway.

Alice opened the carriage door, “The situation is urgent now, Your Grace. Please ride with me.”

The duchess nodded graciously, gracefully slipped her foot into Alice’s stirrup, and settled herself sideways upon the horse.

Grumpy, unfamiliar with bearing two riders, let out a distressed neigh. Fortunately, the duchess’ weight was scarcely greater than the full armor Alice had previously worn, and Grumpy discerned that, despite its discomfort, it could endure this burden for a little longer.

Alice carefully removed her chain mail, draping it over the duchess’ shoulders, and together they spurred the horse past the guards and assassins engaged in fierce combat, racing swiftly toward the mansion.

After several hundred meters, they caught sight of a pursuer closing in—a chilling reminder that the guards who had been there moments before were likely already fallen.

With two on its back, Grumpy could no longer match its previous speed, and the threat of capture loomed near. Alice’s courage was unwavering; yet, a pressing concern gnawed at her—what if harm befell the duchess in the chaos?

In a state of rising panic, Alice could only desperately urge Grumpy to run faster.

Just as she found herself at a loss, her eyes caught sight of a sleek black horse emerging swiftly from an alley nearby.

Initially, she believed pursuers had arrived, prompting her to reach for her sword, but she soon realized the horse bore no rider. Its coat was a deep, lustrous black, adorned with a graceful silver star on its forehead, and its mane flowed long and silky—more exquisite than any horse she had ever beheld.

In that moment, she felt as though she had discovered a true savior, and she instinctively called out, “Cecilion!”

The horse responded with a noble neigh, then slowed to a gentle trot, matching Grumpy’s pace.

With resolve, Alice commanded, “Cecilion, please escort Her Grace safely back to the mansion.”

The horse neighed again in acknowledgment, and Alice carefully lifted the duchess onto Cecilion’s back. The duchess appeared remarkably composed, clutching the reins firmly, ready for the journey ahead.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace,” Alice told her. “I’ll kill those few people and go after you.”

Cecilion carried the duchess away, leaving her free to focus on the assassins.

She took the greatsword from her back and smiled at them, “Come on.”

Although she had fought several times since she had nearly died in battle at the age of seventeen, she had never been in such a life-and-death situation. Now her heart pounded wildly, not with tension, but with excitement. She realized that she loved fighting, and as long as her opponent wasn’t a god, she couldn’t lose.

At that moment, four assassins came toward her on horseback from four directions. They were all professional assassins, and some were death soldiers raised by noblemen. They possessed the skills of professional soldiers and the strength of mercenaries. They would never give up until they had achieved their goals.

Yet no one could defeat Alice at this point. She utilized the skills she had learned from Knight Philo. With her strength and the sharpness of her sword, she quickly struck down an assassin, broke through the encirclement, turned around, and killed two people from behind. These actions happened in a split second.

The last man was so frightened that he was momentarily perplexed.

Alice didn’t kill him, but instead placed her sword at his throat, “Come back with me and tell me who sent you.”