Second Genesis

Grey wanted to know more about exactly what Sir Trolley was talking about, but the answer wouldn’t be coming as quickly as he hoped. Just as he was getting chummy with his apparently new master, he felt a presence behind him that made the hairs on the back of his head prickle.

His head spun to find that Captain Terran was still looming a step over them, his temper—barely having been controlled before—becoming more and more volatile with every passing moment.

’Please don’t tell me my test is to fight him. Please don’t tell me my test is to fight him.’ 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Grey could practically see the infinite loops coming already. He just got out of this one thing and now he was about to be thrust into another?

Grey imagined that any challenge to become a Holy Knight would probably be quite steep, but it would likewise also be fair. The idea of defeating someone in the Vector Class while you were in the Proving Class definitely didn’t constitute as "fair".

But, what was clear to him was that Sir Terran wasn’t the sort to just abide by the rules. For whatever reason—reasons that even Giyoto didn’t know apparently—he was more than willing to bend rules nearly to the point of breaking so long as there was any sort of grey area he could take advantage of.

Something like a spar where Grey would have no choice but to face him sounded like an "oopsie I killed the kid" moment just waiting to happen.

Edmun seemed to feel the shift in the air as well and he reacted much like you might expect an old man bordering on dementia would when they forgot a pot of water boiling on the stove. He seemed to have gotten so excited and wrapped up in Grey’s talent that he forgot about the problem of the prodigal son.

Even more unfortunately for Edmun, the disciple he had just taken in was a complete loose cannon.

"I’m a minor, asshole. Keep your eyes to yourself before I report you. Or maybe I should cook up some Captain Terran Files, that’ll really make your family proud."

Sir Terran went completely stiff for a moment. Grey’s comments had seemed benign enough, but he had mentioned the latter’s family on purpose.

It was a sentence anyone scrappy and insane enough would have used—especially considering all the nobles of the city were very much still here. He didn’t think that the likes of Grey would know the truth of why he was here. But that didn’t stop it from being a sore spot for him.

Terran’s blade moved in its sheath and Edmun frowned, pushing Grey back and stepping in front of him.

"Sir Terran, you are a holy knight of far more potential than myself. One day you will surely surpass me. It can’t be that the words of a child would make you act like this, right?"

Grey could practically see the writhing, snake-like veins pulsing through Captain Terran’s jaw. He honestly wanted to say more, to take some interest before he took the bastard’s head—not just for himself, but for Globb as well.

But he forced himself to be more restrained.

In this loop, he hadn’t asked Silva about Terran. Meaning, no one knew what he knew.

Although the Genesis System seemed to leave some sort of impression, or subconscious imprint on its NPCs. The actual raw memories themselves obviously weren’t there. Otherwise, Silva would have attacked to kill him the moment he appeared every time.

Grey couldn’t help the small jab, but he definitely wouldn’t forgive himself for going further and potentially ruining an opportunity.

Terran clutched the hilt of his sword so hard pulsing waves of golden energy formed around it. But in the end, he managed to press down the urge and actually spoke.

"Good luck to your new disciple. The road of a Holy Knight is long and treacherous." he said coldly.

Then, he turned and walked up the steps.

Several of the other present Holy Knights looked to Edmun with a series of complicated and disapproving glances. Grey even picked out two of them that were even a hint angry, and those two were the best little lap dogs at catching up to Terran’s steps the quickest.

Joaquin didn’t loiter around either, walking back toward the Church Palace. Grey gave his back a sinister grin.

The first thing he was doing when he got out of here was killing that bastard.

The first thing Grey did was not killing that bastard.

Before he had much of a choice in the matter, he was dragged away by Edmun. Apparently between the time of being Blessed as a Holy Knight and becoming one, there was a three-month period between now and when the trials had to be taken.

To Grey, this was way too much breathing room to work with. He had advanced so far in what? Two days? Three? It was hard to keep track of with all the loops. But it was definitely less than four.

By the time three months passed, given the pace he was dying, he would probably experience years. He had forever to work with by that metric. But Edmun was clearly having none of it, and it wasn’t like Grey could explain his situation either.

So instead of getting the chance to do what was itching at him before Joaquin could become any stronger under the machinations of the Producers and the Great Udon, he was pulled into a training room instead.

Grey could only sigh and accept his fate. Until he satisfied the old man, he wasn’t going to let him go anywhere. The old knight wasn’t just strong, he was surprisingly strong—stronger than even Grey’s senses had given him credit for. And he was already sure that the old man was of the Vanguard Class at the very least, that being a tier above Terran and probably Baron Giyoto’s level as well.

"Alright, boy."

"Can we go with something else? This is giving Kratos vibes and the last thing I want to be is that annoying son of his. I’ve never actually played the games, but imagine having a dad that looks like that and ending up looking like... well, that."

"... Kratos?"

"Never mind." Grey sighed, looking around the bland room that looked like it came right out of a medieval fan boy’s backyard. "So, what are we doing here, old man."

Edmun stood across from Grey on an indoor arena of dirt and sand. His arms crossed and he seemed to have entirely lost any sort of smiling expression he had once had.