Orekl turned back to find the Rat Knight staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips—he was about to utter that familiar line: "You alright, my lord, eh?"

The Rat Knight haunts the dark of night, / Wind breathes soft, leaves take flight, / Foes fall headless, out of sight… Orekl recalled the ballads. He was a legendary Golden Knight—he couldn't be a werewolf… And after spending these days with him, Orekl had come to know him better, enough to grant him "Gold Water" status. A Prophet's judgment of identity doesn't rely solely on divine skill; experience counts too.

After meeting the Archbishop in Holy Light Village, Orekl's secret had finally been exposed. Though he was filled with regret and despair, his mind had grown strangely calm, allowing him to see things more clearly. Drawing on years of experience, he'd not only confirmed the Rat Knight's loyalty but also pieced together a rough theory about the Great Wall serial killings. This wasn't a lone wolf's random attack—it was a long-plotted conspiracy aimed at dismantling the entire Great Wall Legion.

Here's how it must have gone: The werewolves learned of the Prophet's secret—that breaking his vow would strip him of the Holy Light's power. So they killed the original leader of the Golden Knights, wore her skin, and came to the Great Wall. Thanks to the Golden Knights' prestige, their leader held nearly equal status to the Great Wall's Commander, making it the perfect disguise.

Once "Layla" arrived, she seduced the Prophet into breaking his vow, robbing him of his divination skill, then began her killing spree. Holy Light Grand Mages and Great Wall officials died one after another, shattering the legion's morale. Worse still, the Prophet couldn't unmask the hidden werewolf—a cruel mockery of the allies' cause.

As for why they didn't kill the Prophet? That was simple enough. A Prophet without divination was no different from a commoner. Keeping him alive to watch the chaos unfold was far more satisfying.

At the thought, Orekl shook his head with a bitter smile. The werewolves are ruthless… He knew his theory lacked hard evidence, but logically, it made perfect sense.

No matter what, I must unmask the werewolf! My mistake led to my brothers' deaths. Now I must avenge them! Even if I lose my position as Commander of the Great Wall, it doesn't matter! Orekl clenched his fists tightly.

Just then, a shadow cut across the sky—a black-feathered raven swooped down, circled them once, then landed gently on the Rat Knight's shoulder. "They got the message, eh? They'll line up outside Shieldhold to welcome you back." The Rat Knight lifted his hand gently, cupping the raven in his palm.

Orekl glanced at him, thinking: The Rat Knight is skilled and humble, but he can never grasp the important details. No wonder he never became the Golden Knights' leader. A message about returning to the fortress doesn't need a raven. I was planning a surprise inspection, but now they've had time to prepare. But the Rat Knight wasn't his subordinate, so Orekl held back from scolding him. He grunted, then changed the subject: "Rat, I've heard it said that the Great Wall Legion is the kingdom's first line of defense, and your Golden Knights are the second."

The Rat Knight grinned. "My lord, unwavering faith brings divine glory. The Golden Knights can't hold a candle to the Great Wall Legion, that's for sure. But across the whole kingdom, there's no other group that ranks second in honor, eh?"

Hmph, such arrogance. Golden Knights really are full of themselves. But your glory is exactly what makes the werewolves hate you. Orekl continued: "I also heard that Sir Layla has killed a hundred werewolves?"

"That ain't no rumor, it's fact! Layla was the old commander's adopted daughter—she got his swordplay down pat, won three tournament championships, eh?"

"Is she stronger than you?"

"A bit stronger, eh."

"But skill doesn't equal battle achievements. Did she really get the chance to face that many werewolves?"

"Sure did! She's been fighting demons alongside the old knights since she was seven."

That was all in the past. Orekl rubbed his nose, asking the key question: "When was the last time she killed a werewolf?"

The Rat Knight paused, tilting his head to think. "Uh… should be a year ago, near Shallow Water Village by Rune City. I fought alongside her that day—we took out four werewolves, eh."

"So she hasn't added any new kills in the past year?"

"Uh… no, my lord. But no new kills just means there are fewer werewolves in the kingdom, right?" the Rat Knight said.

Orekl nodded. Of course you'd defend your commander's reputation, but this confirms my suspicion. Layla hasn't killed a werewolf in a year—that's where the lie hides. "You're right." Orekl said flatly. "Light will always dispel darkness."

Shieldhold's south gate was built from thick planks and packed earth, plain but sturdy. On either side stood the Vigil Spire and Light Spire; swordsmen and archers stood guard on the rooftops and spiral staircases. They were the lowest-ranked soldiers of the Great Wall Legion, mostly commoners. Even now, as they stood watch, their slouched postures and distracted expressions made their laziness obvious.

So much for the advance warning—they're still slacking off. In the past, Orekl would have chewed them out for this, but ever since losing his divine power, his mind had been in turmoil, and he'd let such small things slide.

Orekl passed through the plain gate and saw a group led by the Scholar waiting in the narrow square. Alongside Old Ray, Basru, Du Sanyuan, and A Hei were two witches. No sign of Layla. Orekl's brow furrowed. Does she sense I'm here to confront her? Where are Feto and Shana? Why aren't they here?

The knight "Big Guy" Basru stepped forward to take his reins. "Welcome home, boss." The large knight supported Orekl's waist to help him dismount.

Orekl remembered their brief argument at a recent military meeting, but he knew it was just an internal dispute over honor—nothing irreconcilable. The big guy had a fiery temper, but he was reasonable and didn't hold grudges. "Thanks." The Prophet forced a smile, clapping Basru on the shoulder: It's water under the bridge.

"My lord, everything's been quiet while you were gone." Old Ray stepped forward, offering reassurance. But Orekl's mind was far from at ease: Layla should be the one reporting to me here right now…

He said sharply: "Where is she?"

"Ah? Uh… you mean Sir Layla?" The Scholar coughed. "As soon as I got the raven's message, I sent A Hei to notify her."

Old Ray looked at A Hei, who giggled: "She… she's reading scrolls… busy, busy, heh heh…"

"Scrolls? What scrolls?" Orekl's heart tightened.

"Uh, two days ago, Sir Layla borrowed the Great Wall's defense scrolls from me, said she wanted to study them."

Defense scrolls! Orekl's face darkened. "The defense scrolls are the legion's top-secret documents! How could you lend them to someone outside the legion?"

The Scholar stared. "But… you put Sir Layla in charge of the Great Wall while you were away, didn't you? She's the commander here in your absence—I can't stop her from accessing any documents, no matter the classification…"

Orekl remembered, slamming a hand to his forehead. I handed her the Vigil Badge myself… Ugh, did I really play the fool's card here…

Orekl roared: "Even if Layla is acting commander, you should have sent a raven to inform me about something this important! Old Ray, you're a veteran—how could you make such a mistake?"

"My lord, I…"

The Scholar was about to explain when Orekl held up a hand to stop him. "Where's Feto?"

"Uh, he and Shana were made rangers and sent beyond the wall."

What! Orekl froze, shocked: "Who sent Shana out there ?"

Note:

Gold Water: It is a term used to refer to confirmed allies in the werewolf-hunting context, signifying trust in the individual's loyalty to the "good" faction.