BAAAM!
A heavy armored fist slammed on the table, nearly splitting it in half.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU 'FOUND NO TRACE'?!" a tall, muscular man with long blond hair and blue eyes roared at a terrified scout. "AN ENTIRE ARMY! A DAMN ARMY OF TEN THOUSAND GRAY KNIGHTS! HOW CAN YOU 'FIND NO TRACE' OF THEM?!"
"M-my lord... they... they vanished," the scout stammered, his face pale with fear. "We tracked them to the edge of the elven mines, but... but after that... nothing. It's like they were swallowed by the forest itself."
The room, a wide, grand stone hall inside the main fortress of the Gray Knights at the edge of the elven borders, fell silent.
Sitting on the stone table were ten warriors.
Nine clad in heavy gray armor, their faces hidden behind emotionless masks. They were the Gray Lords, the commanders of the Gray Knights.
And one more, the one who was shouting at the scout. He was different from the rest; his armor was less heavy but more ceremonial, with gold linings and a white cloak with the holy symbol of Uriel on the back.
He was an Inquisitor.
And he was sent here by the order of the King and the Church of Light to keep the Gray Knights in 'check' after the recent event with the appearance of the new goddess.
It's very expensive and time-consuming to train and raise the holy paladins, even if the formula they used was simpler than what Morgana used to create her Crimson Sentinels.
Nonetheless, for the humans of this world, the Gray Knights were the second strongest holy warriors after the paladins.
An army of 'sinners'.
In order not to waste good soldiers, the Church of Light created the Gray Knights, a special military order composed of all the sinners, criminals, and heretics among their paladins.
Instead of executing them, they 'purify' them by brainwashing them with holy light, erasing their memories and personalities, turning them into mindless, fanatical soldiers who know nothing but obey orders.
That treatment is only for the low-rank Gray Knights. The Gray Lords and the higher-ups had to keep their minds; they were useful. After all, if the commander of the army were a brainless zombie, then the army itself would be useless.
As for the Inquisitor, he was quickly ordered to come and restrain the Gray Knights and prevent them from having any funny ideas about the new goddess.
The Gray Knights were the 'sinners' in the eyes of the kingdom, and most of them suffered inequity and unfair treatment, and were thrown here for stupid reasons.
So many would harbor resentment and perhaps even entertain the thought of joining this new goddess.
It happened before with the demon gods.
So the Church panicked and sent the Inquisitor here.
But now...
An entire army of ten thousand Gray Knights. Gone. Just like that.
"I... I'm sorry, my lord," the scout stammered, his knees buckling. "We searched everywhere. There were no signs of a battle. No bodies. No tracks. Just... nothing. The forest is unnaturally silent. Not even birdsong."
"SILENCE!" the Inquisitor roared, his holy flail crackling with suppressed energy, the divine symbols glowing with an angry white light. He turned to the silent Gray Lords, his face a mask of fury and disbelief. "And what of you?! You are supposed to be the masters of this region! This is your land! YOUR MEN! And you have nothing to say?! Are you all deaf and dumb as well as incompetent?!"
The nine Gray Lords remained silent, their imposing forms unmoving. The only sign of their agitation was the subtle clenching of a gauntleted fist here, the slight shift of weight there. They were soldiers, accustomed to command, not to being berated by a church dog.
Finally, the one at the head of the table, a man clad in the same gray armor as the others but without a helmet, revealing a handsome face with cold, calculating golden eyes and long blond hair tied in a ponytail.
Leonardo. The Former Chapter Master of one of the most prestigious Paladin orders, now the Chapter Master of the Gray Knights. The leader of the 'Sinner' army.
He was accused of heresy for saving an elven mother and her child from a 'purification'.
Still, he was loyal to Uriel and the kingdom.
"Sir Inquisitor," Leonardo said, his voice calm and measured, a stark contrast to the Inquisitor's rabid fury. "Panicking serves no purpose. Shouting at a scout who has already delivered his report will not bring our men back. I suggest you contain your... enthusiasm."
"My enthusiasm?!" the Inquisitor sputtered, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple. "How dare you, you sinner! You speak to me of calm when an entire army has vanished into thin air! This is clearly the work of that... that heretical goddess! She must have a spy in our midst! A traitor who led them into a trap!"
"An interesting theory," Leonardo said, leaning back in his stone chair, his golden eyes never leaving the Inquisitor's. "But it raises a question. If our men were lured into a trap, why were there no signs of a struggle? No sounds of battle reported by the border patrols? A vanishing act is far more... magical in nature. Don't you agree?"
The Inquisitor's jaw worked, but no words came out. He was a zealot, a man of faith and fire, not of strategy and subtlety. In the past, he would have had to bow to someone like Leonardo, and now he had the power to command him.
That mission of seizing the elven mithril mines was pure stupidity.
When Leonardo received the order, he immediately refused. He knew that the mission was wrong from the start, not because of traps or anything, but because of the reason behind that mission.
To seize elven mines that were located thousands of miles away from the capital with no roads, no supply lines, and no strategic value... It was a suicide mission.
Even if they managed to capture the mines, they would be surrounded by enemies on all sides. The elves wouldn't just stand still and watch them mine the mithril in peace. And even if they managed to defeat the elves, they still had to deal with the problem of transporting the mithril back to the kingdom. Across the entire continent. Through hostile territory. Full of beasts and monsters.
It was a fool's errand. A death sentence.
And Leo knew that the mission came from those corrupt nobles in the court; they simply saw that the elves had mithril mines and wanted to claim them without even thinking about the logistics.
Leonardo voiced his concerns, but he was dismissed. The order came directly from the King, fueled by the Inquisitor's fiery sermons about claiming what was rightfully theirs by divine right.
So he had no choice but to send a force. And now that force vanished.
"We need to focus on finding out what happened," Leonardo said, cutting through the Inquisitor's sputtering rage. "It wasn't a demon trap, no demonic corruption, not even a hint of blood. Just... silence."
He gestured to one of the silent Gray Lords.
"Brother Marak. Report your findings."
Marak, a bulky man whose helmet was shaped like a snarling wolf's head, spoke in a deep, gravelly voice.
"My lord. The tracking hounds whined and refused to enter the woods. The birds have abandoned that sector of the forest. The very air feels... wrong. Still. Empty. As if a great presence has scrubbed it clean."
"A presence..." the Inquisitor sneered, seizing upon the word. "The heretical goddess! I told you! Her foul magic is at work! She has spirited our men away for some unspeakable purpose! We must march into that forest at once and purge it with holy fire!"
"You wish to lose another army, Inquisitor?" Leonardo's voice was laced with ice. "Marching blindly into a place that has already swallowed ten thousand men is not bravery, it is stupidity. We will send a small, elite reconnaissance party. I will lead it myself."
The Inquisitor's face twisted in outrage.
"You?! You will lead it? The sinner who sympathizes with pointy-eared filth? I cannot allow it! You will simply lead them to the same fate, or worse, defect to this new power!"
Leonardo slowly rose to his feet, the stone chair scraping harshly against the floor. He was taller than the Inquisitor, broader in the shoulders, and the cold fury in his golden eyes was far more intimidating than the Inquisitor's blustering rage.
"I am the Chapter Master of the Gray Knights," Leonardo stated, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register that silenced the room. "Those are my men. My responsibility. You are a guest here, Inquisitor. A loud, irritating guest. You will watch, and you will learn what true command looks like. Or you can return to the King with your tail between your legs and explain why you are afraid of a quiet forest."
The Inquisitor's face flushed a mottled red and white. He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking at the imposing, silent forms of the other Gray Lords who were now all staring at him. He was one man, a church official, surrounded by ten thousand fanatical, armed "sinners" and their hardened commanders. He had authority, yes, but only as long as it was backed by the threat of force. Right now, the force was not on his side.
"Very well, Leonardo," the Inquisitor spat the name like a curse, then he pulled a wrapped scroll from a satchel at his side, holding it up. "But I have another order for you. From the King himself. While you play in the woods, your primary duty has been updated."
He unrolled the scroll with a flourish, the parchment crackling in the tense silence. "By the decree of His Majesty, King Aldric the Pious, the Gray Knights are hereby ordered to prepare for the Great Holy Crusade. Your new objective: march south, to the northern borders of the Lost Lands. You are to establish a forward base and prepare for the main army's arrival. You will be the tip of the spear that pierces the heart of this new heresy."
A heavy silence fell over the room. The Gray Lords remained motionless, but Leonardo could feel the shift in the air, the subtle tightening of their collective posture. March south. Not towards the elven kingdom, but towards the new goddess.
The Inquisitor smirked, seeing their hesitation.
"What's the matter, sinners? Does facing a real god frighten you? Or are you disappointed you won't get to 'save' more of your pointy-eared friends?"
"Ignoring the elves and marching south will cut off our supply lines," Leonardo said, his voice flat, ignoring the taunt. "We would be marching into a wild, uncharted land with no support. The campaign would fail before it began."
"The King's faith will provide!" the Inquisitor declared pompously. "Uriel's light shall guide our path! You are to obey. Or do you wish to add treason to your list of sins, Former Chapter Master?"
Leonardo's golden eyes narrowed. He looked from the smug face of the Inquisitor to the stony visages of his commanders. He saw no fear, only resolve. They were sinners, yes, but they were soldiers. And they understood impossible orders.
"We will obey," Leonardo said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "By the holy light of Uriel. The Gray Knights will march."