He was clearly unaccustod to such pomp and circumstance. He simply mimicked Armand by kneeling, accepted the blessing, offered a few words of gratitude, and then strode away.
The Storm Twin Blades Brothers supported each other as they ca forward.
The older brother, who had lost his right arm, had a deathly pale face. The younger brother leaned on a crutch. Together, the two brothers accepted the blessing.
The older brother said hoarsely, "Thank you for granting us brothers the honor of continuing to hold a sword."
The Iron Wall Imperial Guard Commander strode forward with steady steps. He perford a standard Imperial military salute, and his armor let out a dull clang as his knee touched the ground.
After receiving the blessing, he said solemnly, "The Empire will rember this friendship."
One by one, the Great Knights who had survived the Deep Red Wilderness, or their representatives, ca forward to receive the title and blessing of "Holy Protector" in the solemn ceremony.
Although they were all injured and gaunt, at this mont, standing in the sunlight and under the watchful eyes of the crowd, receiving this honor that symbolized one of the Church Court’s highest forms of recognition, a different kind of fire ignited in each of their eyes.
Muffled whispers and gazes of admiration rippled through the observing crowd.
As the ceremony proceeded, these nas and deeds would be rembered and retold by many more people.
Finally, after the last surviving Great Knight stepped down, a brief silence fell over the square.
Saint Cyril Bishop slowly rose from his seat. He held his Scepter with both hands, his gaze falling on the area to the side and rear of the ceremonial platform. His voice suddenly rose, growing more magnificent and solemn:
"However, the glory of the Holy Protector is not only granted to the warriors who faced the abyss and closed the gate, but should also be bestowed upon the one who turned the tide against impossible odds, the one who reignited the fla of hope in a land of despair... a legendary figure!"
The word "legendary," like a clap of thunder, rolled across the square, jolting everyone to attention.
Countless gazes instantly beca incredibly fervent, swiveling in unison in the sa direction.
In the reserved spot to the side and rear of the platform, Murphy’s figure had appeared at so point, standing quietly.
He was still wearing his usual deep blue Governor’s attire, having made no special effort to change into formal wear. He had only draped a deep black, silver-trimd cloak symbolizing the Monte Territory over his shoulders.
The simple, ancient Dark Gold Longsword hung at his waist as usual.
His expression was calm, his gaze serene, as if the supre honor he was about to receive was nothing more than a trivial matter.
Saint Cyril Bishop’s gaze t Murphy’s for an instant before he began to proclaim in a loud voice:
"lfield O’Connor Monte, Count O’Connor of the Southern Territory of the Vilt Kingdom, Governor of the Monte Territory."
"At Silent Pass, where your blade pointed, the demonic horde scattered, and you saved the Royal Family from peril."
"Outside Ximu Town, you single-handedly slew the rampaging Giant Scorching Beast, saving the town’s residents from fla and claw."
"You answered the call to enter the Desolate Land. In the Deep Red Wilderness, a place of twisted Law and surrounding evil, you used peerless courage and Extraordinary wisdom to reach the very core, destroying the Otherworld’s anchor and laying the foundation for the complete closure of that calamitous Plane Passage—an indelible achievent!"
The Bishop’s speech quickened, his voice growing more impassioned, as if he were recreating those epic battles before the crowd’s very eyes:
"Yet, upon your triumphant return, before you could even rest for a mont, you saw the war beacons of Blackstone Fortress burning and its defensive line on the verge of collapse. Without a mont’s hesitation, you turned and threw yourself into an even more brutal battlefield!"
"On the eastern ridge, infiltrating monsters, as swift as phantoms, were cruel and bloodthirsty. You beca a bolt of lightning, your sword channeling celestial might, and single-handedly purged the demonic swarm, rescuing those brave civilians who were running toward their deaths from the depths of despair!"
"At the Central Tower, an Extraordinary monster bore down like a falling mountain! The defenders were exhausted, the Holy Barrier was about to shatter, and all hung by a thread! You gallantly joined the fray, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Ash Judge, Quentin Thorn. Empowered by Holy Magic, you, a re mortal, wielded destructive lightning. The longsword in your hand beca a flash that tore through the darkness, and you ultimately slew that terrifying Giant Earth Rock Worm before the front lines! You single-handedly turned the tide of the entire battle and stabilized the core pillar of our defense!"
Saint Cyril Bishop took a deep breath. He raised his Scepter high, its ruby refracting a dazzling, brilliant light in the morning sun. His voice was as solemn as if he were declaring a divine oracle:
"Such deeds are enough to illuminate the annals of history! Such power and will have already transcended the bounds of mortals!"
"Today, before all who bear witness, I, Saint Cyril, in the na of Oriane and by the authority granted to by the Holy Throne, hereby declare—"
His voice, like the tolling of a great bell, resounded through the heavens. Every word was clearly branded upon the heart of every person present:
"—that lfield O’Connor Monte is granted the supre honor of the Holy Protector!"
"Furthermore, to honor his legendary na, to herald the might of his thunder and to praise his sword of judgnt, we bestow upon him the title—"
"Thunder Sword!"
"Thunder Sword! lfield!"
Ironspine Duke Hakon Perik’s deep and powerful voice was the first to cry out, like a spark landing in boiling oil.
Imdiately after, as if a mountain flood had been unleashed, a deafening wave of cheers, shouts, and the CLANG of weapons striking shields and the ground abruptly swept across the entire square!
The wave of sound surged to the heavens, and even the distant mountains seed to echo in response!
"Thunder Sword! Lord lfield!"
"Legend! Thunder Sword!"
The soldiers fanatically chanted the new title, while the nobles and Knights, their faces flushed with excitent, showered him with praise.
Those who had personally witnessed the thunderous strike at the Central Tower were even more overco with emotion.
Amidst the cheers, Elizabeth involuntarily rose to her feet. Her small hands clenched the fabric of her skirt, her chest heaving slightly with excitent.
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