Shadows of the Golden Rule
The shepherd was a young boy who looked no older than sixteen. Ian thought of Bernard, the petty knight of River Bill. If he sat the two side by side, he'd get a real kick out of feeling like a middle school teacher.
"Thank you so much, really!"
The shepherd's name was Pael. He was a herder from Artisan Village, an unlucky kid who'd been attacked by undead while tending his flock.
"Artisan Village?"
"Yes, sir!"
Sir Rshah sounded utterly bored. He had zero need to know the name of some backwater hamlet. Still, he decided to head there anyway.
"No sign of the necromancer. He's either hiding somewhere... or in the village."
Sir Rshah was convinced of the necromancer's presence. Visiting the village made sense for the investigation. Ian shared the exact same view.
"You're going to our village? Then let me guide you!"
Pael eagerly volunteered as their escort. It was a no-brainer—with Sir Rshah and his soldiers along, any undead that popped up could be handled easily. Ian wasn't the only one planning to use the knight as a shield(...).
"Sir Rshah. Mind if I tag along?"
With the knight on the move, Ian jumped right in. Time to hitch a sweet ride on the knight bus~
"I don't care. Just don't get in the way."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Ian flashed a friendly grin and joined the group.
Ian hadn't given it much thought, but Belenca was wary of Sir Rshah.
"Looks like that monk was right."
"Monk?"
"Isil from the Blue Key Monastery."
Ian recalled a sharp-minded old codger. Monk Isil. A quirky old man respected by the other monks despite his eccentric ways.
"He warned against the Celestial Church's secularization."
"Ah."
"And now here's this heavily armed church militia..."
Ian had just glanced at the well-equipped church troops and thought, Whoa, they look cool~, without digging deeper. No reason to overthink it. But Belenca, as a knight, spotted the traces of power plays in their gear.
Ian decided to think like a knight for once.
"Sir Rshah said it himself—black mages are on the loose."
The Celestial Church rejected demon arts, transformation magic, necromancy, and other "evil" spells. They lumped such forbidden magics under "black magic," branding them as the craft of twisted, murky hearts. So "black mage" wasn't a job title—it was a criminal label.
Murderers, rapists, black mages, thieves... all scum of the earth. Anyone proudly calling themselves a black mage or thief deserved immediate arrest on sight. What kind of "profession" was that?
"Handy excuse for the church to build up their forces."
"Exactly."
Churches weren't supposed to have armies. They were religious orders, not military ones. But... whether Monk Isil approved or not, the Imperial Celestial Church was clearly secularizing. More wealth piling up in church coffers.
In medieval times, wealth meant food, land, and people. As church assets grew, so did their troops—natural progression. But a church army looked suspicious. You're supposed to be men of faith, not soldiers. Why the buildup?
Nobles had pretty excuses: protecting the people, serving their liege. Churches? No dice. Priests tended souls, not taxes or tyranny.
Building an army was tricky for them. Enter black mages: "We're hunting devil worshippers!" Perfect noble justification.
"That's why the pope's knight steps up."
Sir Rshah was basically a Celestial Church PR envoy. Look how many black mages our growing army has crushed~ Pretty great, right? So we'll expand even more!
If the pope's knight saved folks left and right, church popularity would soar. Supplies from roadside temples? No problem. Ambitious monks eager for prestige would pitch in, racking up solid results.
The only ones hating Sir Rshah would be black mages and local lords.
"Catch black mages, boost popularity. Oh, and pressure lords into the faith on the side..."
"Busy guy."
Ian and Belenca whispered behind his back where he couldn't hear. It was all politics, and Ian wasn't that interested. He was a mage. Let the nobles squabble over power—he barely had time to travel and hone his skills.
Celestial Church knight, huh? Better milk him for all he's worth.
Whatever the pope's agenda, Sir Rshah was useful to Ian. Partial immunity to ambushes? Gold.
"Sir Rshah!"
Ian rode his donkey up beside the knight, matching pace. Sir Rshah's horse gleamed like a noble steed, worlds apart from Ian's scruffy donkey.
"What."
Sir Rshah's voice was flat, ignoring Ian completely.
"Nothing much. Have you caught many black mages?"
"Every one that crossed my path."
Smashed on sight. Ian pulled a signet ring from his pouch and showed it.
"Found this..."
Sir Rshah examined it, then scowled fiercely.
"Where'd you get this?"
"Picked it up on the old road."
"Picked it up? This isn't roadside trash..."
"Off a corpse."
"Corpse? Whose?"
"One I made."
Made by Ian. At that, Sir Rshah looked utterly dumbfounded.
"So... you killed a black mage and took his ring?"
"Spot on."
"...Then just say that from the start!"
Ian shrugged shamelessly.
"Figured you'd get mad."
Sir Rshah trembled with rage.
"You're... a very skilled mage, it seems."
"Why's that?"
"Anyone lesser would've been dead already!"
Ian tsked at the quivering knight. Shaky hands at his age? Eat more nuts, man.
"Eh, I'm decent enough."
A nearby soldier chimed in.
"Ian Eredis Raven? Pretty famous mage."
Me? Ian blinked, but the soldier didn't back down.
Ian's rumors had spread while traveling this medieval fantasy world.
"Not many know him here, but he operated in the Aras Dukedom."
The "Aras Dukedom" meant all lands loyal to Duke Aras—basically a mini-nation, a term medieval folk tossed around casually. Ask for details? "Huh? No idea?"
"Helped the Santiago Knight Order hunt monsters and rescued Takarion of the Golden Finger."
"...Skills check out, then."
Sir Rshah acknowledged Ian instantly at "Santiago Knight Order" and "Takarion." The knights made sense, but Takarion? Really?
"You read the Marcus Gospel, Sir Rshah?"
"No, just heard about it. Supposedly beautiful and pious."
"..."
Sir Rshah, please never read it—just stick to rumors... Takarion's book was fun, sure, but a bit embarrassing to show off. Light novels were like that.
"So, you took down a black mage?"
"Yeah."
Sir Rshah inspected the ring Ian handed over again.
Golden Rule Research Society
"This ring symbolizes membership in the Golden Rule Research Society."
"Golden Rule Research Society?"
Ian had never heard of it. Sir Rshah eyed him steadily before asking,
"You know imperial history?"
"Somewhat."
"Then you know the Holy Empire has nothing to do with the Golden Empire."
Ian nodded. The Holy Empire was built by northern barbarians who invaded the fallen Golden Empire's lands.
"Technically, we're their descendants."
"...You get it."
Sir Rshah felt a twinge of annoyance at Ian's spot-on knowledge. Proud imperials, descended from barbarians? A sore spot. But Ian stated the creepy fact so casually.
Mage through and through? Cold logic like that meant he could share more.
"But you seem to have thicker ancient blood."
"Huh?"
Sir Rshah pointed at Ian's hair.
"That black hair. Common among ancients. Didn't know?"
"...?"
Ian knew. Black hair was rare in the empire but popped up occasionally. Head south to the Coral Sea, though, and curly black locks were everywhere. The Coral Sea region? Once home to the Golden Empire's capital. True imperial stock.
"Thought you were Golden Empire mixed blood."
"..."
Ian had never pondered his link to the Golden Empire. Black hair? Obviously from his Korean roots!
But Sir Rshah was closer to the truth.
"Could be."
Ian still didn't dwell on it. Blue hair, yellow—who cared? As long as it wasn't pink, he was grateful.
Golden Rule Research Society
"The Golden Rule Research Society was founded by those claiming Golden Empire descent."
"Golden Empire descendants..."
Ian was baffled. Claiming lineage from a nation extinct for centuries?
"Lunatics who think they're the empire's true heirs."
Hold up. Ian felt a chill and looked up at Sir Rshah. A glint flashed in the knight's eyes.
"Already figured it? What Golden Rule means."
"Golden Rule... 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,' right?"
Ancient Celestial Church law: Harm others, pay the price.
These self-proclaimed heirs flaunted the Golden Rule.
"Yeah. They believe northern barbarians stole the empire."
...Not entirely wrong. The Holy Empire was born from barbarian invasions.
So the society's goal was obvious. Eye for an eye.
"They want to... take back the empire?"
Sir Rshah nodded.
"Delusional nonsense."
Sir Rshah praised Ian's courage. Fighting a demon arts user knowingly? Impressive.
"Need this ring?"
"Why?"
"If not, sell it to me."
Sir Rshah wanted the black mage's signet as proof of his kill—great for his record. Win-win for Ian. No point keeping shady loot.
Ian took the gold coins and handed it over. Both satisfied.
"Sir! We're here!"
Pael shouted. They'd arrived at Artisan Village unnoticed.
The welcome at the entrance was enthusiastic.
"I'm Rshah, knight of the church."
"A Celestial Church knight?"
"What a blessing!"
Villagers cheered wildly.
"Sir! Help us!"
"What's wrong?"
An elder, likely the village head, knelt and cried out.
"We've caught the necromancer, but we don't know what to do with him!"
"...?"
Sir Rshah and Ian wore matching baffled expressions.
The villagers... had caught the necromancer?