The clothes Kyle Barlow was wearing were completely different from when we first t. Instead of the long magenta wizard’s robe, he was now wearing a well-tailored, tightly fitted frock coat — which made his shoulders look broader. He was also wearing a top hat and holding a black cane in his right hand, instead of his staff.
"Kyle, it’s a surprise to see you again," I said and bowed my head slightly. If I had a hat, I would have taken it off to show respect.
My forr teammate was wearing a top hat, so he held it to his chest before also bowing his head in response to my greeting.
"How are you? Have you recovered well from your burns?" Kyle asked, now also standing on the first step of the staircase.
"Yes, your healing did most of the work. When I took off the bandages, my skin was in perfect condition. Thank you for that."
Kyle shook his head. "You saved all of our lives that day. I’m glad I was able to be of so use, because in battle, I really couldn’t help."
I could still feel the lancholy in Kyle Barlow’s eyes. It was no longer the anger or tantrum he had when he couldn’t save Mr. Hawklight, but rather the sadness he had shown after what happened to Rosella at the camp. Maybe I was too hard on him in those monts, and it shook his confidence in himself?
Suddenly, I placed a hand on Kyle’s right shoulder. This made him look at , and I smiled at him.
"You don’t have to bla yourself for things you may or may not have done. We were all in a very difficult situation to deal with. Besides, your Blessing is Healing, isn’t it? It’s okay to trust your life to your companions, because we also trust our lives to you."
His eyebrows shot up, and he smiled. "I think that’s sothing I need to learn to do."
Unfortunately, his eyes didn’t match his mouth, and I realized that his smile wasn’t sincere. Soon after that, we said goodbye, and he walked up the street while I entered the police station.
It wasn’t until I entered the police station that I wondered what Kyle Barlow was doing there that morning. Wasn’t he supposed to have shown up the day before? Or was he here for the sa reasons as ?
Either way, it wasn’t my business. So, I went to the front desk and told them I was there to talk to Paladin Lerah Carter. They made wait for a few minutes before a police officer in a blue uniform with a gold badge appeared.
"Kid, you can co with now," the serious officer said and imdiately started walking.
I followed him down a familiar path inside the police station until he stopped in front of a double door. He knocked twice and said,
"Officer Carter, Mr. Brandon Shibutani Oneal is here."
"Send him in," the Paladin replied, her voice muffled by the thick door.
The officer took a step back and gestured for to proceed.
I thanked him with a brief nod and placed my hand on the doorknob before turning it and entering Lerah Carter’s office.
The overall appearance of the office was quite ordinary and normal. To the left of the entrance was a large pair of windows overlooking Castle Avenue, to the right was a large bookcase filled with books, and in front was Lerah’s desk.
She had a quill pen in her hand and appeared to be busy with so docunt. As such, she did not stop what she was doing to look at as I walked over to her. When I stopped in front of her desk, Lerah simply said,
"Please, have a seat."
In front of the desk were two well-padded chairs. I pulled one of them back to sit down.
Lerah dipped her pen in the ink once more before continuing to write on the yellowed paper.
As soon as I frowned, she quickly rembered my presence and finally looked up.
"Why are you staring like that?" she asked. "You know that’s not polite."
"I-I just wondered why you were using a quill pen. I thought important people used pens for that."
The expression on Lerah Carter’s face softened at my answer. "You an those ink pens? I’m not a big fan of them. Only people with revolutionary spirits admire them. I hear it’s much harder to change the ink in one of those pens than to just change the inkwell that sits next to the paper while you write."
"I never looked at it that way... If I may say so, Ms. Carter, you seem like a simple person."
In tis when nobility and extravagance in clothing and luxury were part of fashion, it could sound offensive to call soone simple. So, for a few seconds, I was afraid of how the Paladin would react to my complint.
Fortunately, she laughed and put her hand on her chin. "I am, aren’t I?"
However, her expression suddenly beca serious again. She put her hands together and looked at seriously.
"Now, without further ado, what is your decision? You didn’t co here just to ask for more ti to think, right?"
She had given up to three days to think about it, but I didn’t need that much ti.
I shook my head. "I’ve had enough ti, and I know I don’t want to beco a Paladin."
"Hmm." Lerah rested her face on her fist and looked at more intently. "Is it because of the responsibilities? If so, I suggest you reconsider."
In fact, it was never about the responsibilities I would have. If I beca a Paladin, things wouldn’t change as much as people thought. I would have to carry out missions for the Church, both inside and outside the Tower of Babel, but that would be no different from a regular job, and I would be getting paid for it.
"Boy, this could change your family’s reality." Lerah continued, not giving ti to respond. "Considering your class and rank, you could have a very promising career within the Order of Paladins."
She was right this ti. If I accepted her invitation, the only good reason to do so was for money and opportunities.
As a Paladin, I could give my family and myself a better life. I would attend high society events, et important people, and considering that Paladins were not like priests and bishops, at one of these events I might find a good wife for my children.
It would be an easy and peaceful life. However, there was one big problem with all of this...
Was that what I wanted? A stable job, an easy life?
I promised I would improve Brandon’s life and his family’s, but an easy life was never what Brandon wanted, right? What did he want? To find the people who possibly killed Nathan, his older brother. To do that, the only path Brandon could imagine was the path to the top of the Tower of Babel.
But I, with the knowledge I had about this world and now with a noblewoman by my side, knew that there was an easier way.
So, what was the point of climbing the Tower of Babel? Simple: find the pieces I needed to set up the board, and when I finally reached the top, talk to God—the Author of The Journey to the Beyond — or whatever it was that had created this universe. Yes! Those were my goals! And none of that could be done by entering a school full of spoiled brats and belonging to the sa institution that had probably tried to kill Rosella!
The corruption of the Church of the Golden Halo was rampant, and I would be diving headfirst into that system if I beca a Paladin.
"If a weekly salary of one gold coin isn’t enough to convince you, you should know that this is only the starting salary, and—"
"No need to try to convince . Even if the salary were ten coins a week, I wouldn’t consider becoming a Paladin," I said, looking her in the eye without showing any uncertainty. "It’s not about money; it’s about freedom. I want to open my own Guild, not belong to a Guild that’s connected to the Church... Even though my mother would love it."
Lerah Carter’s mouth opened slightly as she stared at my determined expression. Finally, she took a deep breath and turned her swivel chair toward the window.
Just like the first day we t, she reached inside her clothing and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her inside pocket.
Ritually, Lerah tapped the cigarette pack twice on her palm before taking out a cigarette and lighting it with her silver lighter.
"n today are really very ambitious," she said, looking at out of the corner of her eye. "Congratulations on becoming a Rank-B. You are now dismissed, Mr. Oneal. I hope you will never need the help of the Order of the Paladins again."
I could sense a hint of hurt in her voice, but I just got up and left her office without saying another word.
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