It was a group of knights.
At least, judging by their posture and aura, they should be knights.
Their pace was ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) perfectly synchronized.
Their figures were as upright as pine trees.
Their presence was steady and dangerous.
Even in their soul state, they still radiated a certain murderous aura from having spent long periods on the battlefield.
But the problem was—
Their equipnt.
It was very... unique.
Each knight wore an extrely heavy, hideous black heavy helt on their head.
The helts were fully enclosed, leaving only a narrow 'T-shaped' observation slit at the eyes.
The lower half of the faceplate even had a brass breathing valve; with every breath they took, a faint gray mist puffed out from the valve.
It was very imposing.
It was very domineering.
It very much fit an elite-sounding na like the 'Paranov Guard Knights'.
If—
If they were wearing clothes below their necks.
Pavela's gaze moved down from those hideous black iron helts.
Broad shoulders.
Knotted muscles.
Shocking, lethal scars that covered their entire torsos.
Bullet holes, lacerations, burns, puncture wounds.
There wasn't an inch of intact skin on those strong bodies.
Then ca the waist.
A loincloth.
The simplest kind of loincloth, just a single piece of cloth wrapped around the waist.
The fabric was white.
Clean and tidy.
But that was it.
In other words.
This group of nacing, murderous knight souls.
Were currently wearing only helts and loincloths.
Patrolling this magnificent palace.
Helts.
Loincloths.
Nothing else.
Pavela's brain short-circuited for about three seconds.
She looked at the group of knights.
Looked at the exquisite and solemn knight helts on their heads.
Looked at the crude and simple white loincloths on their bodies.
Looked at their exposed, muscular chests, arms, and thighs.
Looked at their synchronized pace.
Looked at their ticulous posture.
This image.
Really had a lot of impact.
"..."
Pavela opened her mouth.
She wanted to say sothing.
But she didn't know what to say.
The knights opposite her also stopped in their tracks.
They had clearly seen Pavela as well.
The entire formation froze in an instant.
Then—
"It's that damn Gatekeeper!!!"
An angry roar erupted from the formation.
Pavela subconsciously turned her head.
She saw the Gatekeeper.
That ball of void fla wearing a tuxedo.
It was currently retreating at an almost instinctive speed.
No, it was running away.
Running for its life without a single look back.
“That bastard is here again!!!”
“Catch him!!!”
“We absolutely can't let him get away this ti!!!”
“We broke his legs last ti; today we have to skin him alive!”
Boom—!
Except for the lead knight walking at the very front.
The remaining eleven n lunged forward instantly.
Their loincloths flapped loudly in the wind.
Bare feet stomped on the expensive oak floor, making a violent 'paji paji' sound.
A group of semi-naked muscular n, wearing iron helts spitting steam, were like a pack of unleashed wild dogs, roaring and cursing as they swept past Pavela like a gust of wind.
“Don't use skills! Don't actually hit him for real this ti!”
Soone shouted while sprinting.
“Her Highness is currently linked to his senses! If he gets hurt, Her Highness will feel it too!”
“Pin him down first! Find so rope to tie him up! Once Her Highness leaves, we'll hang him from the top of the tower and whip him!”
“Stop right there! You footless cripple!”
Their speed was astonishing.
Even wearing only loincloths, their movents were still sharp and precise.
“Wait, wait, wait—!!!”
The Gatekeeper's screams echoed in the corridor.
“I'm just accompanying your Highness this ti—!!!”
“Calm down—!!!”
Paji paji paji—
Accompanied by crude curses and screams.
The group of loincloth-clad strongn chased after the sprinting fireball and disappeared at the end of the long gallery.
Dead silence returned to the gallery.
Pavela stood where she was.
Her long silver hair was slightly lifted by the gust of wind just now.
She maintained the posture of holding up her skirt with both hands.
In her gray-blue eyes, a hint of clear confusion rarely appeared.
She slowly turned her head.
Looking straight ahead.
Now.
In this wide, luxurious corridor filled with faceless portraits.
Only she remained.
Along with the only lead knight of the patrol who hadn't followed the group to hunt down the Gatekeeper.
The knight stood three steps away from her.
It was a tall soul.
Even in a semi-transparent state, one could see that he must have been a very burly man in life.
A hideous black iron helt was on his head.
The brass valve puffed out a bit of gray mist.
His body was covered in scars.
A gray loincloth was wrapped around his waist.
Bare feet.
One person.
One ghost.
One luxurious court dress.
One simple piece of cloth covering his sha.
He stood there.
Motionless.
Pavela also looked at him.
Silence.
A long silence.
Then—
The knight suddenly knelt.
The movent was swift.
Clean and decisive.
The sound of a tal knee hitting the floor echoed in the empty corridor.
It was a standard, textbook one-knee salute.
Right knee on the ground, left leg bent, right fist held against his heart, head deeply bowed.
Pavela was startled by this sudden action.
A semi-naked muscular man suddenly making such a gesture in front of you was still very intimidating.
She subconsciously took half a step back.
“Your Highness.”
The knight's voice ca from inside the helt.
Deep, raspy, and carrying a certain ancient echo that transcended ti.
“Please forgive our dereliction of duty.”
His voice was trembling.
It wasn't a tremble of fear.
But so deeper emotion that had been suppressed for too long.
“We...”
His voice choked up for a mont.
“We failed... failed to protect...”
He paused for a long ti.
As if trying hard to rember sothing.
But those mories were already blurred.
Shattered.
Leaving only so fragnted shards.
“We... we are guilty...”
He finally only managed to say this one sentence.
His voice was full of regret and pain.
Pavela stood frozen in place.
She subconsciously looked around.
To the left, no one.
To the right, no one.
Behind her, the Gatekeeper had long since run out of sight.
So...
This Sir Knight was talking to her?
The Princess was her?
“Um...”
Pavela's voice was a bit dry.
“Could you get up first?”
The knight didn't move.
He remained in that kneeling position.
Head bowed.
Shoulders trembling slightly.
Pavela scratched her head, sowhat at a loss.
She really hadn't handled a situation like this before.
She had thought that she ca to the tower to go on a killing spree.
The people she would et would either be enemies or allies.
If they were enemies, she'd kill them; if they were allies, she'd save them.
Even if enemies occasionally beca allies, or allies beca enemies.
It would still be simple and clear.
But this situation now...
A knight's soul wearing only a helt and a loincloth was kneeling before her, tearfully apologizing.
What was she supposed to do?
Pat him on the shoulder and say, “It's okay, it's okay, it's all in the past”?
But she had no idea what had happened.
Pavela sighed.
But regardless, there was one thing she was very sure of.
She didn't like kneeling before others.
Similarly, she didn't like others kneeling before her.
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