Leda let out a soft breath, her mood far from settled.
Though she had successfully eliminated those repulsive Kindred of Rot, she had failed to complete the mission entrusted to her by His Highness. The thought of having to face him soon was enough to give her a headache.
She turned back, her gaze instinctively settling on Nolan, staring at him through his helmet without restraint.
"Go change your clothes first, then come to see His Highness. Appearing before him in such a state is highly improper."
Her tone was stern and unquestionable.
"Hey, didn't you notice I'm seriously injured? You're not even getting me a physician, and instead you want me to go change clothes?"
Nolan slipped back into the familiar role of the neighborhood youth who had grown up alongside Leda. He raised a hand and pointed at the dents in his armor, firing back without hesitation.
He could feel the Knight Commander's gaze sweeping over him like a scanner, inch by inch, as if she were trying to see through the armor itself and inspect the body beneath.
Nolan, however, showed not the slightest hint of panic. He wasn't lying. He really was injured. That punch from the Kindred of Rot had broken at least a few ribs.
The Golden Needle Knight armor he wore looked no different from that of the other Golden Needle Knights, but in truth, its quality was far inferior.
Authentic Golden Needle Knight armor would never be this fragile.
His physical condition lagged far behind that of other knights. So while the design was identical, the materials used were on an entirely different level.
If he were to don a genuine set of Golden Needle Knight armor, let alone fight properly, Nolan would probably struggle just to move.
After a long moment, Leda finally withdrew her gaze.
As Captain of the Golden Needle Knights, she had followed His Highness Miquella for many years and could practically say she had watched this man grow up.
She knew the young knight well. Among a knightly order where every member was a hero, this young master beloved by the Empyrean stood out as the sole anomaly.
What she couldn't understand was how such a frail child could summon the courage to raise his longsword and face the Kindred of Rot head-on.
Nolan's technique was frighteningly refined, yet his overall combat power was far from outstanding. Even so, it was leagues beyond what any true novice could display on the battlefield.
Still, Nolan had never spoken to anyone about Dark Souls. No matter how deeply Leda reflected on it, she could never imagine that this man had already been a battle-hardened king in a previous life.
In the end, she silently handed Nolan a small bottle filled with crimson liquid and spoke softly.
"Take this. I'll lead them to see His Highness first, then I'll come back for you."
"Sacred Tear?"
Nolan didn't refuse. He accepted it with a smile.
It was an incredibly precious treasure, infused with the blessing of the Erdtree and produced only by churches across the Lands Between.
One sip could rapidly heal even the gravest internal or external injuries, as long as the person wasn't dead. It was nothing short of a miraculous healing elixir.
Seeing that familiar, radiant smile, bright as sunlight, Leda finally relaxed a little. At least she could be sure this child hadn't been replaced.
Could he be a natural-born warrior, like Lord Godfrey?
"Thanks, Sister Leda. I'll be going now."
Nolan waved at her cheerfully.
You should call me Knight Commander. This child really is a headache…
Leda shook her head helplessly, though she had to admit his sweet tongue explained why His Highness favored him so much.
"Make your preparations quickly. I'll come find you soon!"
If it's such a hassle, then don't deliberately leave me behind in the first place.
Nolan muttered to himself as he lifted the vial and gave it a gentle shake. The red tear within shimmered, crimson like blood.
From this day forward, Nolan, the knight who had been protected by his lord for decades, finally stepped once more onto the path of becoming a lord...
...
The four soldiers' wounds had yet to fully heal, but Miquella's reward had already arrived.
A towering, formidable Haligtree Knight rode in on a powerful steed. In the name of the great Empyrean, he bestowed blessings, honors, and Runes upon those gathered.
Leda, meanwhile, walked alone toward the heart of Elphael. Many knights watched her white-clad figure in silence, their expressions solemn and reverent.
There were fewer than twenty Golden Needle Knights in total, and every one of them was a celebrated hero.
As the commander of the Golden Needle Knights, Leda's strength among the Haligtree Knights was second only to the Cleanrot Knight Commander. She was known for her strict discipline and cutting words, and no knight dared behave lightly in her presence.
After entering a plainly furnished chamber, Leda dropped to one knee and spoke with deep respect.
"Your Highness, I have returned."
Seated at the center was the Empyrean. His frame was slender, almost childlike, with thick golden hair flowing down over his shoulders like a waterfall. His androgynous features were soft and beautiful, captivating at a glance.
"Has Nolan returned?" he asked quietly.
His voice was as gentle as a spring breeze, carrying an inexplicable power that left a faint tingling in the listener's ears.
Leda lowered her head in shame.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness. The mission failed. I never expected Knight Nolan to defeat the Kindred of Rot. I underestimated his strength."
"There's no need to apologize, Leda. This was not your fault," Miquella said calmly. "As expected of my champion. Just like twenty years ago, he has surprised me once again."
"Forgive my bluntness, Your Highness," Leda replied. "Nolan's victory over the Kindred of Rot was indeed unexpected, but relying on strength alone, I fear he is still unfit to become Lord."
She had already removed her helmet, revealing the delicate features hidden beneath her mask. Her brows knit tightly as she fell into thought.
Nolan's status was undeniably special, and he was deeply favored by His Highness.
Yet in the Lands Between, where martial valor reigned supreme, recognition from others and the right to rule all beings could not be won without personal might.
Strength is the reason one becomes king. It was a maxim often spoken by the First King, Godfrey, and there was no one in the Lands Between who did not know it.
Even setting Godfrey aside, His Highness's father, Radagon, had been the Golden Hero who waged war across Lake Liurnia of the Lakes before becoming Elden Lord Consort.
His Highness was an Empyrean of The Law, a true god-candidate of the Golden Order Dynasty, and thus held the authority to choose a king.
But Nolan—what right did he have to be chosen as the Promised Consort?
Miquella gently shook his head.
There were many paths to power, and countless strong individuals in this world. But someone so singular existed only once.
Nolan's soul burned like a living flame, filled with limitless capacity, as though it could contain the entire world.
That quality aligned perfectly with the Law Miquella sought.
This truth, however, could never be revealed.
If the Golden Order Dynasty deemed Nolan a threat, then even with two Empyreans of the Haligtree, his safety might not be guaranteed.
"He possesses something far more precious than mere strength," Miquella said softly. "I will make him a worthy lord."
There was meaning hidden in his words as he lightly waved a hand.
The Golden Needle Knight Commander understood at once and began to withdraw. As she stepped back, the Empyrean's expression subtly changed, and his voice grew even softer, more tender.
"Go and bring Nolan here. I haven't seen him all day."
"I wish to see him now."