He was a young man who still bore traces of his youth. Only a few years ago, he must have been a boy.

At a glance, Pharos could see that the slightly younger man had an extraordinary physique. Even among the finest knights chosen in the capital, a body so cleanly and powerfully built was rare.

There was something distinctly aristocratic about him.

The rough and careless way he shook the water from his freshly washed body, and the almost unruly way he carried himself, could not conceal his natural elegance.

Pharos found himself struck by it — by the quiet, innate beauty of the young man. It was evident in the faint curl of his silver hair and the smooth line of his lips — he was handsome despite the hint of malice that seemed to linger there.

Guido lowered his voice slightly.

“He is the grand duke’s second son.”

Ah, the illegitimate son who had only just been recognized before being sent to the front.

Pharos briefly recalled reading about the man’s background in a report.

Reflecting on this, he realized that the man’s vivid blue eyes closely resembled those of the Grand Duke, whom he had encountered a few times.

The Achilleton family had originally been royalty in a kingdom that worshipped foreign gods. However, after being absorbed into the Empire more than two hundred years ago, they had converted and remained under the Church’s watchful scrutiny for generations.

This suspicion was finally laid to rest when the second son was granted divine power and admitted into the Order of Holy Knights.

In any case, a noble blessed with divine power would more than qualify for the Order of Dawn.

Pharos, who was already commander of the Order of Dawn, turned to Guido and asked him to join, driven by a natural desire to claim such talent.

“Why wasn’t he assigned to Dawn earlier?”

“Don’t even ask. It’s only because he’s in Dusk that they’re putting up with him. If he were placed in Dawn, the whole order would fall apart.”

It was a remark that implied Dawn lacked the tolerance of Dusk. Pharos’s brow furrowed.

Sensing his displeasure, Guido quickly added an explanation.

“His achievements in battle are remarkable, but his temperament is… excessively rough. Even the previous commander—may he rest in peace—had a hard time dealing with him.”

War often left men broken.

Having already noticed the restlessness etched into the young man’s movements, Pharos clicked his tongue softly. Before transferring him to Dawn, he would first need to instill proper discipline in him.

As part of his assessment, Pharos continued to question the young man.

“Does he chase after women?”

“No, not particularly.”

“He doesn’t look like much of a drinker.”

“That’s just appearances. He joins drinking bouts whenever the chance arises.”

“Isn’t he a bit young for that?”

Pharos arched one brow.

As the young man entered the barracks, he appeared solid and powerful, nothing like the drunken knights Pharos had encountered along the way.

At the very least, there was no sign of intoxication about him. Even if he drank often, it didn’t seem to be to the point of losing control.

Not wanting to waste any more time on idle questions, Pharos spoke bluntly.

“What’s the problem?”

“There are too many to count. He ignores orders completely, gambles away his superior’s entire pay, then scatters the winnings among the beggar-like villagers—only to get drunk, pass out, and abandon his post…”

Guido’s complaints started with actions that were unthinkable for a Knight of Dawn and became increasingly exaggerated.

The Grand Duke’s second son was a criminal and a libertine who trampled on military law yet repeatedly earned merit in battle, teetering on the edge of expulsion.

Even before the account ended, Pharos had become thoroughly disgusted by the young man’s constant, chaotic misbehavior.

Although he valued talent and potential, he had no interest in reforming others.

Cutting Guido off, Pharos spoke with cold finality.

“Even after committing all that, he may still find salvation. He’ll die for God, after all.”

The moment Guido realized that the commander of Dawn had given up on recruiting the grand duke’s second son, his expression visibly eased.

Afterwards, Pharos surveyed the battlefield briefly, where the fighting had momentarily ceased. He then prepared to return to the capital, promising Guido that he would find him a place within the Order of Dawn.

Before leaving, he made a point of evaluating the third son of House Searton.

Although he was a member of the Order of Dusk, Aaron Searton possessed the lineage and refinement expected of Dawn. Pharos had long intended to bring him under his command.

At a confidential roundtable attended by the archbishop, the Church ultimately decided to withdraw from the eastern front after hearing Pharos’s unfiltered report.

They were already engaged in a new war against heretics in the west, so all resources and attention had shifted there.

“In any case, Ishtal has already lost much of its territory and is likely just as exhausted as the eastern Legrandem forces. We can reorganize later and conquer them decisively.”

Everyone agreed with the assessment of the Church’s military advisor.

“Shall we recall the Order of Dusk?”

Someone raised the question.

The Order of Dusk was a place where men died without end and had long been replenished without pause, until its ranks were filled with illegitimate sons and men of uncertain origin.

Such men would not usually have been permitted to become holy knights.

However, as they had been confined to the eastern front, the Church had chosen to overlook this fact and grant them all approval.

If the front were to be abandoned, however, the Order of Dusk would be left without a place to remain and would have to return to the capital in its entirety.

The archbishop fell into deep contemplation.

Then the war advisor spoke once more.

“I believe it is right to let them continue striving for victory on the eastern front until the very end.”

“But we were just discussing a full withdrawal from the eastern front…”

“Even if they were to lose their lives in the process, would that not be martyrdom?”

Martyrdom: A term used to describe believers who die while fighting in the name of God.

Although no one of true faith should dare refuse such a calling, not a single person at the table could bring themselves to speak.

The war advisor glanced at the silent archbishop, then at Pharos — his son and inspector of the eastern front — before continuing.

“A letter has arrived from His Majesty the Emperor, urging a reduction of the Church’s military power.”

Everyone was already aware of the matter.

The current emperor, Belvadic I, was tired of the repeated defeats of the Holy Knight Orders and frequently quarreled with the Church over the maintenance of the two separate orders of knights.

“All of Legrandem stands as Pax’s army—so why must the archbishop command a private force?”

It was no secret that the Emperor had previously made such remarks to the nobles who supported him.

Pharos noticed Cardinal Pirobe, father of Guido and himself a figure tied to the Order of Dusk, turn pale.

This was fortunate for Guido and his father.

Fortunately, Pharos had the means to resolve the situation.

“I will personally send letters to those among Dusk who are worthy, and have them transferred to the Order of Dawn.”

If the Eastern Front was going to be abandoned anyway, it might as well be left to the lunatics and fools beyond redemption.

And so the decision was made.

The meeting ended with a clean, unchallenged conclusion: Pharos would write to those selected for withdrawal from the Eastern Front and the names of those left behind would one day be engraved on a triumphal arch to commemorate victory.

This almost noble resolution left no one present with any reason to object.

Pharos carried out his duty without hesitation.

He informed Guido that a place had been prepared for him and also sent a letter to Aaron.

However, he deliberately omitted the truth about what had been decided at the roundtable in Aaron’s letter. Aaron could be too rigid at times and was ill-suited to the quiet maneuvering of politics.

Before long, a reply arrived.

Along with it came news that was entirely unexpected: Aaron Searton had politely declined the offer.

Guido had been driven out of the camp, his face shattered and one leg left crippled.

The person who had reduced him to such ruin was someone Pharos recognized at once: Tenetta Achilleton.

The Grand Duke’s second son.

“That young b*stard slapped Guido in front of everyone and made him crawl like a dog!”

Cardinal Pirobe raised his voice for the sake of his only son, now gravely injured, but Pharos immediately understood that the matter was far more serious than a simple revolt against authority.

“In front of everyone, you say?”

“That’s right! He should be escorted to the capital at once and punished—”

“So you’re saying that while the commander was humiliated like that—no one from the Order of Dusk even tried to stop it?”

Regardless of how corrupt the Dusk Order had become, they should have been able to stop one knight’s sudden act of violence. These were men who had survived on the battlefield for years.

The grand duke’s second son had long been infamous there as a troublemaker. Having broken military law so many times, not to mention his personal grudges, he should have earned plenty of resentment from those around him.

And yet no one stopped him from striking their commander across the face?

“What exactly did the commander of Dusk do?”

As if struck by a sudden realization, Pirobe’s face turned deathly pale.

It soon emerged that Guido had learned of the Roundtable’s decision from his father and, in an astonishing display of foolishness, leaked it to the Order of Dusk.

It was an act of utter stupidity.

Pirobe was stripped of his right to attend the council, and with nowhere left to turn, Guido was forced to live in silence, as though he were already dead.

The Church’s leadership refused to acknowledge any of Guido’s claims. As the letter from Pharos contained no direct mention of the council’s decision, the matter was quietly buried, severing all ties with them both.

Yet the Order of Dusk remained a problem.