The next day, in the darkest hour before dawn.
The Great Knights assembled, quietly leaving the fortress under the cover of night and hurrying toward Eagle's Beak Peak.
At the head of the party was a middle-aged Knight, silent as a mountain.
He wore no conspicuous Armor, only a simple set of gray common clothes. His aura was as heavy as the sea, blending perfectly with the surrounding darkness.
When a small group of monsters sprang from the shadows of the mountain path to attack, he didn't even draw his sword, merely flicking a finger.
A thread of condensed Life Energy shot out silently, piercing several monsters and turning them into crumbling pieces of charcoal.
"That's the Church Court's 'Ash Judge,' Lord Quentin Thorn," one of the more knowledgeable Great Knights whispered to his companion, his voice filled with awe.
