Chapter Seventy-Eight: Oscar Beckons to You

When the patrol returned to the stronghold, their arrival immediately stirred up a great commotion.

Everyone in the stronghold knew what this patrol had set out to do. Many of them had received Liam’s invitation themselves, but for various reasons, had chosen to refuse or withdraw. Sending a patrol to cleanse the surrounding dark regions of monsters was, in their eyes, far too dangerous—especially when the leader was a young mercenary barely in his twenties. The consensus was that this unfortunate patrol would either return in disarray, fleeing for their lives, or vanish forever in the labyrinthine depths, like so many before them. The chance they would successfully complete their mission seemed, to most, less than one percent.

Yet the fact that the patrol returned laden with spoils was a slap across their faces. If they had merely come back alive, it might have been nothing, but seeing those mercenaries and guards waving necklaces made from fire lizard teeth, blood-stained claws, and even the intimidating heads of their prey—these trophies alone were enough to silence every doubter. Those who had congratulated themselves for not joining the temple’s “foolish venture” now stood slack-jawed, cursing their own stupidity for passing up such an opportunity. Looking at what those returning mercenaries held and wore, one could easily imagine the spectacle they would create upon returning to the surface—crowds gathering to admire and praise them.

The mercenaries in the stronghold were consumed with envy and regret. They had come to the dark regions precisely for wealth and renown, risking their lives with every job. Yet the monsters here were a hundred times fiercer than surface beasts, and after all this time, their losses had been considerable, with barely any monsters slain. Now, after just a single outing, these fellows returned covered in trophies; some even stripped several fire lizards for their skins, intending to craft a set of leather armor, provoking jealousy and admiration that could hardly be expressed in words.

Especially after hearing that hundreds of fire lizard corpses still lay unclaimed deep within the dark regions, many mercenaries’ hearts were stirred; if only they knew the exact location, they’d rush out themselves.

Some clever mercenaries sought out those who had participated in this adventure, offering generous rewards if they would lead them to the fire lizard lair for whatever scraps remained. Yet anyone who survived the battle with the fire lizards was no fool; they knew that without Jen’s guidance, even ten times their number would not return alive. So, faced with such invitations, the mercenaries flatly refused. The rewards were tempting, but they would not risk their lives for money they might never live to spend.

Thus, through these mercenaries’ mouths, Jen’s reputation spread swiftly through the entire stronghold. Now, nearly everyone knew of a man deeply familiar with the dark regions, possessed of great strength, who not only knew the terrain but dared lead dozens against hundreds, even thousands, of fire lizards.

If such tales came only from mercenaries, none would believe them. Mercenaries were notorious for boasting; even a scuffle with a few goblin thieves could be inflated into a world-saving epic. But when Liam and the other paladins confirmed these stories were not exaggerations, Jen’s fame soared yet higher. At least within the stronghold, he was now a household name.

While the stronghold was abuzz with the patrol’s triumphant return, Rox met the “legendary man” himself.

“I’ve heard Liam’s report about this mission. You did very well.”

Seated behind his desk, Rox fixed his gaze on the young man before him. He still wore his opulent, almost ostentatious noble attire, lounging back in his chair, idly toying with a black, unremarkable cane. Hearing Rox speak, Jen looked up, glanced at him, but said nothing—Rox could never have guessed that much of his current predicament was owed to the man before him.

Elise sat quietly behind Jen as always. Facing the head paladin, she was visibly nervous. Fortunately, out of courtesy, Rox did not linger on her; he only studied her a moment when she removed her hood, then quickly withdrew his gaze.

Rox was not surprised by Jen’s attitude. In fact, when Liam and Ralph reported to him, they had both noted Jen’s most troublesome trait: his arrogance. Of course, those with strength often have strong tempers. Jen had demonstrated his power and wisdom, so a little arrogance was understandable.

“You have eliminated the threats around the stronghold and defeated so many subterranean monsters. The temple will not overlook this. We will reward you accordingly.”

Seeing Jen’s expression, Rox decisively abandoned polite rhetoric and went straight to the point. Jen clearly disliked the customary noble pleasantries.

“If there’s anything you require from the temple, feel free to ask. As long as it’s within our capabilities, the temple will do its best to assist you.”

Tch, his words are more melodious than a song.

Hearing Rox speak, Jen scoffed inwardly. He had solved their problem, yet now these people seemed to imply their rewards were a benevolent favor, and he should kneel in gratitude, as if pledging loyalty.

“In fact, there is something I need the church’s assistance with.”

Jen firmly used the word “assistance,” scoring a subtle point.

“Head Paladin Rox, the Bashanonmens family has always borne the mission of fighting monsters in the dark regions. Our ancestors paid a heavy price for this, and in those days, they answered the call of the Holy Church, joining the crusade against the dark regions.”

At this, Rox’s expression stiffened. That crusade was a permanent wound in the hearts of the temple’s followers. The fall of a true god was unprecedented and likely never to be repeated. The death of the war god Marka had shaken the entire continent. Followers of other temples, heretics seeking to overthrow the gods, scholars and mages studying history—all would mention it to prove that the gods were neither omnipotent nor immortal. The War God Temple was dragged out for ridicule and blame every time, so much so that, even though its influence had waned on the continent, its notoriety was unmatched. Mention the War God Temple, and everyone’s first reaction was: “Ah, the temple where a true god fell.”

Bad news travels fast.

“During that crusade, my family suffered grievous losses and has since declined.”

Jen raised his head, fixing Rox with a direct gaze.

“I’ve always hoped to restore my family’s glory, to reclaim the honor and dignity we deserve… Therefore, I wish to receive the Holy Church’s Medal of Honor.”

“The Medal of Honor?!”

Rox frowned at once. He had suspected from the start that matters would not be so simple, and now Jen had indeed presented a difficult challenge.

The Medal of Honor was the highest award the Holy Church could bestow on non-members. Only those who had rendered exceptional service were eligible. While the medal itself held little material value, its political significance far outweighed any visible wealth. The recipient gained the right to emblazon the church’s insignia on their family crest. In other words, possessing the Medal of Honor meant having the formidable backing of the Holy Church.

Of course, if the holder committed crimes under its shield, the church would not tolerate it. But as long as their actions did not violate doctrine or law, the church would grant privileges and assistance. Considering the church’s power on the continent, it could be said that with this badge, one could walk unchallenged.

Families with the Medal of Honor rose in status, sometimes rivaling royal families in smaller nations.

As for Jen’s family history, Rox did not believe he was being deceived. Everyone in the temple knew that during the crusade, many families answered the call and entered the dark regions. After the brutal battle, fewer than one in ten returned alive; many ancient and illustrious families were lost to history’s dust. The church itself suffered heavy losses and could not spare resources for those noble houses, leading to the decline of many. Families like Bashanonmens were not uncommon.

“This is a very difficult matter, Mr. Jen.”

Rox’s expression grew more serious as he addressed Jen.

“You must understand, the Medal of Honor is the church’s highest accolade. Not everyone is qualified to receive it.”

“That’s true.”

Jen nodded.

“However, I believe I am qualified.”

Rox was momentarily taken aback.

“Why?”

“Why?” Jen sneered, rising to his feet.

“Because I am of the Bashanonmens family, Head Paladin Rox. My ancestors answered the church’s call, entered the dark regions, and fought for light and justice against the evil, cunning, and vicious monsters and dark creatures there. They gave everything, but what did the church give them in return? Nothing. The church was absorbed in licking its own wounds, indifferent to outsiders like us, letting us decline and perish. My ancestors gave so much for their faith, yet the church could not even shed a single tear!”

Jen suddenly swung his arms, his voice growing louder.

“Wherever one falls, one must rise again! My family gave everything to the church but received no justice! I have come here to reclaim what my family was owed. What we failed to gain last time, I will obtain now!”

Jen clenched his fists, tears in his eyes, biting his lip as he stared unflinchingly at Rox, who grew visibly uncomfortable under his gaze. As a man of the temple, Rox knew well that the aftermath of the last crusade had left unresolved debts. If he had not seen it with his own eyes, it would be easier—but now...

“You know my strength, Lord Rox. I could serve any royal family and be granted knighthood. But I refuse, for my ancestors’ faith in the Nine Saints was devout, and so is mine. That is why I fight for the Holy Church. But I hope for a fair and just response. Surely that is not too much to ask, Head Paladin Rox.”

Jen looked at Rox again, his expression earnest and solemn.

If there were golden statuettes on the continent, Jen could now compete for Best Actor.

“...This...”

Under Jen’s gaze, Rox lowered his head, troubled. He pondered for a moment, then sighed lightly.

“Let me consider it.”