Find 50+ Advance chapters
And for More Fan fiction
👇
👇
[Support link: pat reon.com/RioRaRyu]
------------
Trusting yourself is always better than trusting others.
Morin rarely placed hope in anyone else-especially politicians.
Hadn't a certain president with the last name "Chuan" already demonstrated how reliable political promises were?
From the very beginning, Morin had never planned to rely on government power. If they helped, great. If they didn't, it wasn't a problem.
As long as they didn't stab him in the back under pressure from the High Table, he'd already consider that goodwill.
After Anderson agreed to contact the Secretary of Defense, Morin left the villa, removed the Ethan Hunt mask, and returned to the former Fraternity of Assassins headquarters.
Which was now the Provisional Templar Knights' outpost.
They'd already taken the territory. Leaving it unused would be a waste.
The Templar Knights didn't have a permanent base yet, most of the provisional members were former assassins, and there was also a magical Loom here that might provide information later.
So Morin and his group took over the place.
He mentioned it to Anderson, who agreed immediately.
Something this small was easy to handle.
As soon as Morin returned, he noticed the assassins looking at him with a hint of awe.
"Did you spread the word about my identity?" Morin asked Carlos and the others.
"We adjusted it a bit," Carlos said. "We didn't mention that you're a guest from beyond. Everything else is basically true."
"Fate no longer trusts the assassins and has chosen the Templar Knights," Wesley added. "It's placed its hope in you to restore order to the world. How does that sound?"
"Close enough," Morin nodded. "Since we have a base now, it's time to rebuild the Templar Knights."
"You mean..." Fox looked at him.
"You're still only provisional Templars," Morin said as a cross appeared in his hand. "It's time to officially advance and light the flame."
"Lighting the flame?" Wick asked. "What does that mean?"
"It means passing on the flame of civilization and the light of order..."
Morin was already highly skilled at saying things that sounded profound while being complete nonsense.
...
"Alright. That's about it," Morin said, nodding in satisfaction.
"...That's it?" Wick couldn't help asking.
"What else were you expecting?" Morin shot back.
"I mean, shouldn't there be some kind of ceremony? Branding? Something?" Wick's eye twitched.
Morin had just taken out a small notebook, registered everyone's information, and handed each of them a cross.
That was it.
This was the initiation ceremony of the Templar Knights-a supposedly world-changing organization?
That's it?
"That's it?"
"New era, new rules," Morin said seriously. "We don't do flashy stuff."
"Oh, right. One more thing," he added, pulling out another sheet of paper. "Pass this around. These are the Templar Knights' tenets. Memorize them. Copy them down if needed. I'll check later."
"Alright, stop staring at me like that. I know this ceremony is rushed, but given our current conditions, we can't exactly go all out, can we?"
Seeing their blank looks, Morin gave one of the real reasons.
"I promise that after we take down the High Table, I'll give you the grandest ceremony imaginable."
As for the other reason he didn't mention-
It was sheer embarrassment.
After many attempts, Morin had confirmed the upper limit of his tolerance for shame.
Practicing that kind of thing had no benefit and was pure torture, so he'd decided to avoid anything awkward or overly dramatic whenever possible.
With so few people, simpler was better.
"Wick, what did Winston say?" Morin asked, changing the subject.
"He said he's available to meet," Wick replied. "You decide the time. He's always at the New York Continental Hotel."
"Good. Tomorrow morning," Morin nodded.
"For now, let's start renovating and organizing our first Templar outpost."
...
The next morning, at the New York Continental Hotel.
"Mr. Morin," Winston said, seated on the sofa. "What can I do for you?"
Wick and Winston were friends.
To prevent Winston from misjudging the situation, Wick had already told him several things when confirming the meeting.
Morin's identity as a Templar.
That he was recognized by fate to restore order.
And that the Fraternity of Assassins had already fallen.
That was why Winston's attitude was unusually serious, even formal.
"I'm sure Wick already told you some things about me, Mr. Winston," Morin said. "So let's get straight to the point."
"Yes," Winston nodded.
"How long have you managed the New York Continental?" Morin asked.
"Over forty years."
"Then have you ever thought about breaking free from the High Table?"
"No longer being threatened. No longer being a pawn."
"Becoming your own master."
"...Are you suggesting something?"
"I can give you that opportunity," Morin said, taking a sip of wine. "Did Wick tell you my goal?"
"He did," Winston nodded. "At first, I was skeptical. Now... I don't think you're just boasting."
"That's normal," Morin replied calmly. "Without proof, there's no trust."
"You've seen my strength."
"If you're willing to join the Templar Knights, I can offer you an even higher position."
"What position?"
"When everything is over, I'll leave," Morin said. "You'll become the Elder of the Templar Knights."
"What do you think?"
"That's... a very grand promise," Winston said after a long pause. "Almost unreal."
"My only goal is restoring order," Morin said. "What happens afterward isn't my concern."
"I have no interest in managing it."
"So I need someone capable, willing, and trustworthy to ensure it doesn't turn into another mess."
"You trust me?"
"I trust Wick," Morin replied. "And since you're his friend, that's enough."
"So. What's your answer?"
"This isn't an easy choice," Winston said with a wry smile.
"Someone my age usually loses ambition long ago."
"Even if I became Elder, how long would I sit in that seat?"
"But if I stay under the High Table, like the last forty years, I'll remain here until I die-waiting for them to replace me."
"So even if success isn't guaranteed..."
"Even if I might not hold that position in the end..."
"Compared to a future that can never change-having hope is still better."
"So."
"I accept."
"Welcome to the Templar Knights, Mr. Winston," Morin said, raising his glass.
Just like when he and Wick first decided to work together, their glasses clinked with a crisp sound.
"As a gift," Winston added with a smile, "I have a guest here you might be interested in meeting."